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The Snow Garden - Softcover

Rice, Christopher

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9780786888061: The Snow Garden

Synopsis

When the death of a respected professor's wife reveals an illicit relationship between a student and his teacher, Atherton University becomes the scene of ever escalating intrigue, speculation, dark desires, fear, and violence. By the author of A Density of Souls. Reader's Guide available. Reprint. 125,000 first printing.

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About the Author

Christopher Rice was born in Berkeley, California and moved to New Orleans with his parents at the age of ten. He has lived in New York City, where he briefly studied screenwriting at NYU's Tisch School of the Arts. His mother Anne is a novelist and his late father Stan was a poet, painter, and former chairman of the creative writing department at San Francisco State University. Christopher lives in Los Angeles.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

PROLOGUE

Inverness Creek

Groping at the icy tree trunks and pushing branches from his face, he followed the sound of water flowing against the ice until it brought him to the edge of Inverness Creek. The haggard elms stood in regiments along the sloping banks of ice-slick mud. Veils of snow danced on contrary gusts of wind before vanishing into ice punctuated by sudden black pools of creek water. The music of Fraternity Green was an eerie, distant suggestion far behind him. Bursts of drunken laughter and the delighted squeals of young women, underscored by the bass thud of a stereo, barely filtered through the thicket of trees to where he stood, steadying himself on a branch, staring down at Pamela Milford.

She was lying facedown on a sheet of ice that bobbed in the struggling current, her blonde hair fanned forward from her head. A few strands draped the side of her face where her cheek puffed against the upward press of the ice, the corner of her mouth open slightly as if she was trying to draw breath. One arm was pinned beneath her chest; the other was frozen in midreach for the far bank. Her right leg shot outward at an awkward angle from her body. A miniature geyser erupted around the toe of the boot on her left foot, water spilling over the top of the ice, a puncture that revealed the frailty of the sheet she lay on.

From this distance, the red trail extending out from her neck could easily have been mistaken for blood. He knew better.....

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