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