Never before has Mongoose Falls, Minnesota seen a spring storm like the squall paralyzing the small Midwest town. Candy Jane Cane comes to, cold and disoriented. Fluffy flakes tickle her red nipped nose as her surroundings bewilder her. Jerky, bolting movements slide her through deepening white. Is she on a sled? Has she been caught by Fruit Loops the Serial Killer? Her heart stops and starts, as muffled moans moisten the duct tape sealing her lips.