Romans & histoires Stephen King

The rays of dawn painted the distant building black, giving it an ominous appearance. - Are Mrs. Telvisina and the Saint ready? - the king turned to Parvin, who was sitting astride a red gelding. The vampire remained next to the ruler and paladin as a link between the rest of the troops. “No news yet,” Parvin answered reservedly. He still felt awkward surrounded by knights and inquisitors.

He wrote it off, concluding that it was as a result of the stress and sleepless nights. He looked around and realized that everywhere was dim. Everywhere seemed so cold and silent. And in an eerie way. He seemed satisfied with the atmosphere. "Damien, " he heard someone call his name. He turned and saw Alex on the stairway. Damien had just one thing left to do… He went to the end of the hallway where his parents' room was. ______ "Damien."

Her father, the king, made attempt to lay her to rest in secret but after sunrise the next day when little her had ventured to her mother's grave to send her flowers, her mother had dug her wat out if the grace, now one if the hideous creatures, a blood suckers. "Look!" Her eyes snapped open and fixated itself on the grave. "It's moving, it's moving!"

But here, in this suffocating silence, strength felt like something else entirely, like biting down on your tongue until it bled just to keep yourself from breaking. I used to fear my father's words, and yet here I was now, thrown by him to his own enemy. The book snapped shut as I finally acknowledged that I hadn’t read a single line. I couldn't no matter how hard I tried. The sound was louder than expected, and it startled me, but not as much as the quiet footsteps approaching behind me. I turned my head slowly, expecting a maid. But when his scent hit my nostrils, I found myself raising an eyebrow.

"In all of the stories I often read--" "All of those were from human fiction stories, isn't it?" "Yes." "It's only natural to add a crazy fantasy spice like that," Stephen snorted in response to his words just now. He didn't know if it was just his feelings or not, but it seemed that Stephen was offended by his question just now because the change in the man's tone was so obvious. "So far, I have never known vampires and werewolves who are immortal. Ah, with the exception of William Schneider, who made werewolf history as the only werewolf who was blessed with immortality--which unfortunately was used in the wrong way."

“Well, the check cleared, I’ll say that much.” “I hear you. Didn’t Stephen King say something once about how a bad movie version of one of his books can’t actually tarnish the book; that it’s still fine up on the shelf, something along those lines?” “Actually, I think he was quoting James M. Cain.” “I’ll take your word for it. You’re the writer, after all.” The young man held out his hand. “By the way, I’m Tobias Silver, but my friends call me—” “Let me guess, Toby?”

Hadn’t the former owner of Arcane Delights, Brian Ellison, recently passed away after Alzheimer’s and dementia had stolen his mind? No. Brian Ellison still owned and operated Arcane Delights. Didn’t he? John had bought several old Stephen King novels there, only last week. Hadn’t he? Drawn by the memory of the Stephen King novels he’d purchased (he swore only last week), his gaze slid to the huge, handmade wooden shelf next to his office door, which of course was his Stephen King shelf. He owned nearly every one of King’s books and multiple paperback copies of his favorites: It, Salem’s Lot, Pet S

Gavin gaped at him for several wordless seconds until he finally managed, “That’s crazy. I’m one of their bestsellers!” “But you’re not Stephen King. Or Peter Straub or Dean Koontz or someone with a rabid fan base, like Brian Keene. Not a flashy newcomer, either. You’re a burned-out mid-list author with a big fat drinking problem to boot.” Gavin’s eyes flashed. “Hey. That’s not fair. You’ve got no right to dig me because I enjoy an occasional drink now and then.”

Seeing him would help me feel better. Running down the stairs, I would have bypassed the kitchen altogether if it wasn’t for how dry my throat was. I stumbled to a halt as I spotted my stepfather behind the counter. His tall frame made the full-length apron he wore look small. He looked exactly like Jasper, dark haired and attractive, the only difference between them being Caleb’s blue eyes. He was stirring something in a pan. Caleb looked up from the pan, his frown lightening. “Hey, you’re up early.”

So maybe it's better that he is not here. “So, here’s the things we know about the killer. Firstly his targets are all renowned and prominent men in our country. Until now he has had three victims. Mr. Arik Watson- 48 years old. Estimated time of death 1st April 2020, 3.30 A.M. He was a prosecutor who won several awards for bringing justice to the people. Dr. Robert Jonson- 54 years old. Estimated time of death 12th July 2020, 3.50 A.M. He was one of the best general surgeons in our country. Mr. James Brown -50 years old. Estimated time of death 23th January 2021, 3.45 A.M. He was the founder and the Chairman of J.B. Garments company.” And with that, Mr. Anderson gave each of his teammates