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The Snowman’s cruelty knows no bounds,
but the object of his hate knows no fear.
Excerpt:
Stowy lolled in his basement bedroom in his underwear, lazily browsing the Internet in a half-hearted attempt to catch up on the local news. Most of it was boring, boring, boring, but one tidbit caught his attention. The corners of his mouth curved upward, and then he laughed out loud.
“So, Quaid’s on his honeymoon and won’t be back to work until after the new year, huh? Oh, we’ll just see about that. I’ve got some mighty fine surprises in store for you, Mr. Big Shot. For you and your bride.”
“Stowy, breakfast is ready!” his mother yelled down the steps.
With a growl, he jumped up and raced upstairs. “Dammit! How many times do I have to tell you not to yell my name? What if a neighbor hears you?” He knocked her sideways with a sharp slap. “Don’t do it again!”
“I’m sorry,” she said, gently rubbing her cheek. “I forgot. Having you here is like old times. I’m just so happy.”
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