oods in a cabin not unlike
her oparison； debated switching to
the romance after all； but was inexorably drawn back to the tightly
written piece。 Burrowing deeper into the chair； she gave herself up to
the plot。
She read for two hours； pausing only for more coffee。 The gold watch on
her wrist read eleven； but she was wide awake； stimulated by caffeine；
her new surroundings； and the riveting edge of the story。 As Chapter
Four became Five and then Six； the mystery deepened。 Accidents were
neither accident nor coincidence。 Someone was after the heroine。 No；
something was after her； or so it appeared from the bizarre markings
left by footprints； paw prints； or whatever in the winter snow。 Terror
slowly mounted。 The woman was trapped； hunted； doomed。 As Chapter Seven
ended and Eight began； she hatched her escape plan against seemingly
insurmountable odds。 Then； plicating an already desperate situation；
came the blizzard。 Gale force winds； blinding snows； chilling
temperatures conspired to keep her at the mercy of the wild beast that
stalked her。
With a thud； Anne put the book facedown onto her lap； heart pounding in
vicarious fright。 Mystery； my foot； she mused with regret； this book is
sheer horror！ It wouldn't have been so bad if she'd picked it up last
night or last week in New York。 Here； though； she was alone； isolated
from t