Stephen King Books Novels & Stories

(Lorei's POV) "Okay, so, don't judge me," I say into the phone, curled up under my blanket with the lights off, "but some of what happened at that study thing... wasn't entirely terrible." Priya goes dead silent for a second. Then she absolutely loses it laughing. "Lorei Bennett. Are you telling me your evil blackmailing stepbrother gave you a neck thing and you liked it?" "I did not say I liked it." I bury my face in my pillow, mortified. "I'm saying my body apparently has no loyalty to my brain."

The only thing missing is a bag of nachos. The movies themselves are veritable classics, especially The Bride of Frankenstein which is in black and white. Most of them are horror movies, as in written by Stephen King or directed by him. Kate would’ve watched them any day with the Bali Girls but, being alone and in an unsavory cellar, she chickens out on Poltergeist.

"So I've heard." We make our way back to the living room, and I sit on the couch while Mason returns to the armchair. "Uh, what are you reading?" I ask, since I guess we're actually having a conversation right now. Zuri greedily sucks down her bottle, not paying any attention to us. Mason laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "Oh, um, 'Salem's Lot'. Stephen King is my favorite author." Wow, so he reads on the regular.

"I heard whispers, I think it's the same group who wiped out my family. You'd probably know more from the crawlers and the red demons. Find their chiefs and shake them for answers." "Back when it happened, I thought I knew who it was. We used to have this estranged kin, a clan of succubi and incubi, sex demons as you called us. I was royal, my father was King, and when they came for the throne and killed us all. I hid, I hid so deep within the palace walls that none was able to find me." "King Eustace helped me find who I thought was responsible for the death of my parents, our followers, and the rest of my demon kind. He helped me kill them all, but now the nightmare was back and I need to

They stood there looking at each other like this for a few seconds. After a moment, Stephen finally spoke up again. "She has dared me so much that I can't stand her. She is the reason my wife insulted me last night, Maria King has gained morale from Kristen and that's too bad for me. I need her to remain fearful, to always have what I can do at the back of her mind. I just hope that this new courage of hers will not stop her from remembering that I am Stephen King, the man who can bend her life and it becomes miserable like her daughter's."

A ferocious roar filled his ears, seemed to fill up the whole world, and he could feel the vibrations as the panther gave chase. As he started down the stairs, he tried to kick the door closed behind him but he also didn’t want to pause even for a second, and he didn’t think his kick was forceful enough to get the door closed all the way. He picked up his speed, nearly tumbling down the stairs, sure that he could feel the breath of the animal on his neck. He raced to the closest bookshelf, full of hardback volumes by Stephen King. Hoping to buy himself a little more time, he grabbed one of the thicker books—Bag of Bones—and hurled it toward the stairs just as the panther came into the librar

"Well, that hurt. I can read, you know." Wetness pooled in her panties and she couldn't stop staring at his outrageously frowning lips. "What do you read?" She barely had enough air in her lungs to get the words out. "Stephen King." She gave a small giggle. "Well that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside." "That's where I learned my despicable vocabulary." "I'm impressed that you actually know a synonym for nefarious." "Your lovely, attractive, and dazzling splendor brings out the thesaurus in me."

His heels dug deep into the animal’s sides, and it carried the King away with a jolt that startled the other horses. His Riders gave chase to Daniel, who was nearly a furlong from the gates already. The Darke King rode fast and bound over streams and downed trees that blocked his path. Like a torch in a windstorm, flecks of charred pieces of Daniel’s fear and devastation blew off him and blanketed everyone who followed. Every scorching bit that slapped Haldir’s face was a hint of the Hell about to rain down on the unsuspecting rapist hiding in the encampment they were barrelling towards.

He looked relaxed, laid-back in a way I hadn’t seen him before now. “Okay, what about books?” he asked. “My turn again.” “Oh, that’s a tough one.” I furrowed my brow. As a librarian, it was difficult to come close to narrowing it down to one or even ten. “I don’t know. But I’ll always love Stephen King.” “Right.” He nodded.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Do you like to read? I blog about books, specifically horror and thriller books.” “Like Stephen King?” She nodded. “Stephen King, Dean Koontz, David W. Wright, Sean Platt, and, ah, Dan Wells.” He nodded slowly as she listed her favorite authors. “What about A. A. Abernathy?” Fuck! “You read Abernathy?” “Yeah, I just picked up the latest one. It’s pretty good so far.”