Model Sarya Browning spends the Christmas holidays at a famous ski lodge, Snake Pit Resort, with her friends. Little does she know that the gods have something else in store for her.
Caught in a blizzard, Sarya takes a wrong turn and is overtaken by an avalanche. Buried under a ton of snow, she has no chance of survival.
When Sarya instead tumbles down what feels like a tunnel and ends up in the middle of a street in a village that belongs in the middle ages, she believes herself dead and experiencing the afterlife.
Hurting all over, freezing cold, she heads for the only shop with lights on…Frosty’s Bakery.
It was as if a train barreled down on her. She tumbled, turned, but held onto her knees for dear life, keeping her head buried between her arms. I’m done for. That’s all she could think. These are my last moments. By the time they find me, I’ll be dead. Merry Christmas, Sarya…
The barrage of snow, trees, and rocks stopped tossing her around like she was a mere ball, and she sank, the heavy blanket of moving snow sucking her under.
Then she tumbled.
And kept falling.
The wind got knocked out of her when she hit bottom. For moments, she lay still, then opened her eyes. Somehow, during her toss-and-tumble journey, she’d lost her goggles and her skis. It was dark, and her vision was kind of blurry, but she wasn’t buried under snow. Had she somehow got tossed into a cave?
Sarya tried to sit up, but she ached all over. Pressing her lips together, she made the effort and sat. Every move she made caused her to wince. “At least I’m not dead, but where am I?” she said aloud through numbed lips. Her ski pants and jacket were torn to shreds. She saw no blood, which was comforting, at least.
Her vision cleared, and she could make out lights. Dim lights, but nevertheless lights, which lit up a street. A street? How was that possible? She looked up, but all she saw was a clear, starry sky and the moon. The street was covered in snow. On both sides were quaint little shops, their roofs also covered in white, and icicles were hanging from the eaves.
Carefully, she managed to stand. Every bone and muscle in her body hurt like hell. “I’ll be black and blue, but where is this? And how could I fall from a mountain into a village? The small town close to the resort doesn’t look anything like this.”
It had to be a hallucination brought on by getting buried beneath a mountain of snow. Lights flickered on inside one of the shops that looked larger than the others. The sign on the window announced Frosty’s Bakery. Movement inside caught her attention. Right. Bakers began working in the wee hours of the morning to have fresh bread ready for their early customers. But this wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.
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