A winter storm ravages a small community in New England, but the residents of one street are unprepared for what the snow an ancient curse, an entity that knows both their sins and their regrets and will stop at nothing to consume what belongs to it. When John Stephenson peers out of his window on a Tuesday morning, he sees nothing but clear, gray skies hovering above the houses on his staid suburban street, but the next 48 hours will prove to be a waking nightmare from which John and his neighbors cannot escape. As the first flakes fall, the whispering begins. A woman walking her dog leans into the sidewalk as though something buried beneath speaks to her. As the storm grows in ferocity, each of the residents hear the storm calling. What it says, however, few may survive to repeat. From Shirley Jackson and Bram Stoker Award finalist Rebecca Rowland comes a winter horror novel of cosmic proportions, one in which one neighborhood comes face to face, and ear to ear, with a malevolence as old as the world itself.