The snow in the garden reflected enough light for him to make out the snowman down below. It looked alone. Someone should have given it a cap and scarf. And maybe a broomstick to hold. At that moment the moon slid from behind a cloud. The black row of teeth came into view. And the eyes. Jonas automatically sucked in his breath and recoiled two steps. The pebble-eyes were gleaming. And they were not staring in the house. They were looking up. Up here. Jonas drew the curtains and crept back into bed.
With setting, mood and gifted storytelling, Nesbo is creating a monster (snowman and killer) that has provided me with more than one anxious moment. My lunchtime reads are now spinetinglers, literally. And I know one thing for sure. You can now add snowmen to the list of one time cute and funny 'things' that now scare the crap out of me. Snowmen and clowns. Brrr