The Girl Who Didn't Die — Ruby Jean Jensen

Waves of terror swept me as I huddled, cold and wet at the water's edge. Over and over, the accident haunted me. The bridge - wet, slippery, so narrow. And then the fog - thick, condensing, coming from behind, then covering the windshield. Smothering me, blinding me. Oh, God, where's the railing? Then blackness... and icy water lapping, lapping. The hunters who found me on the shore were puzzled. How had I escaped? My car was still under water, locked. I knew no answers, only that I must go on to the dark house I would use as a hunting lodge, to welcome the strong young men who would come as hunters and might stay as lovers.