Misery: A Novel

By Stephen King

The number one nationwide bestseller a few recognized novelist held hostage by way of his “number one fan” and discomfort a daunting case of writer’s block—that may perhaps end up deadly. one in every of “Stephen King’s best…genuinely frightening” (USA TODAY).

Paul Sheldon is a bestselling novelist who has ultimately met his number 1 fan. Her identify is Annie Wilkes, and he or she is greater than a rabid reader—she is Paul’s nurse, tending his shattered physique after an car coincidence. yet she is usually livid that the writer has killed off her favourite personality in his most recent ebook. Annie turns into his captor, holding him prisoner in her remoted house.

Annie desires Paul to jot down a ebook that brings distress again to life—just for her. She has loads of how one can spur him on. One is a needle. one other is an awl. And in the event that they don’t paintings, she will get rather nasty.

“Terrifying” (San Francisco Chronicle), “dazzlingly well-written” (The Indianapolis Star), and “truly gripping” (Publishers Weekly), Misery is “classic Stephen King...full of twists and turns and mounting suspense” (The Boston Globe).

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Certain, Paul may without notice see it—and in an instinctive manner he understood precisely how this sort of scene, absurdly melodramatic because it should be, will be milked for suspense. The surroundings, it all canted at an alarming downhill attitude, dashing through. lower to the brake-pedal, which sinks bonelessly to the mat while the man’s foot (he observed the foot essentially, clad in a 1940s-style airtip shoe) stomps on it. reduce to his shoulder, hitting the door. minimize to the surface opposite, exhibiting us an abnormal bead of solder the place the door has been sealed close.

No longer even the awl could suffice this time. they'd came across her open air of distress the pig’s stall, with one hand wrapped round the deal with of her chainsaw. That was once all long ago, although. Annie Wilkes was once in her grave. yet, like distress Chastain, she rested there uneasily. In his goals and waking fantasies, he dug her up repeatedly. You couldn’t kill the goddess. briefly dope her with bourbon, might be, yet that was once all. He went to the bar, checked out the bottle, then seemed again at the place his galleys and strolling sticks lay.

Probably it'll land within the bedpan beside the mattress. In a few deep, dim a part of his brain the place the dope hadn’t but reached, alarm bells have been going off. She enjoyed the publication, which intended she didn’t suggest to kill him. no matter what was once occurring, she didn’t suggest to kill him. And until his evaluation of Annie Wilkes was once completely off the beam, that intended she had anything even worse in shop. Now the sunshine within the room didn't glance boring; it regarded marvellously natural, marvellously choked with its personal grey and eldritch attraction; he may well think cranes half-glimpsed in gunmetal mist status in one-legged silence beside upland lakes in that gentle, may possibly think the mica flecks in rocks jutting from spring grasses in upland meadows shining with the shaggy glow of glazed window-glass in that gentle, may well think elves shucking their busy selves off to paintings in strains below the dew-soaked leaves of early ivy in that light....

Other than that you simply owe her your existence, comparable to that could be ... since you became out to be Scheherazade in any case, didn’t you? back he attempted to show other than those ideas, yet came across himself not able. The endurance of reminiscence and all that. Hacks simply are looking to rejoice. Then an unforeseen concept got here, a brand new one that opened an entire new street of inspiration. What you retain overlooking, simply because it’s so seen, is that you just were—are—also Scheherazade to your self. He blinked, reducing his hand and staring stupidly out into the summer time he had by no means anticipated he may see.

Shed! She’s long gone to the shed to get the awl! It’s the awl back! yet this used to be just a temporary atavism, and he driven it approximately away. She hadn’t long past into the shed; she was once happening cellar. Dragging whatever down cellar. He heard her arise back and he rolled again to the window. As her bootheels approached his door, because the key slid into the lock back, he idea. She’s come to kill me. And the one emotion this concept engendered used to be drained aid. sixteen The door opened and Annie stood there, him contemplatively.

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