Duma Key, by Stephen King

Duma Key is one of those books (most of which are written by Stephen King) that can make me afraid of the dark again. I was reading it furiously last night, stupidly thinking I could finish the last 200 or so pages before I went to sleep, and I started to get creeped out. It was around the appearance of the dead man in Edgar’s kitchen—I was reading that passage, and then started to reach over for some chapstick, and I paused. Reaching for the chapstick would necessitate turning my back on a portion of the room. For just a tiny second I was afraid that turning my back on that corner would invite a dead man, or worse yet the lady in red, into my own room. For just a *tiny* second, I faltered. Then I hurriedly grabbed my chapstick, turned around, and I was still alone…..but I did sleep with the lamp on. And the TV. I needed the noise of Food Network to mask any squelching fresh-from-a-watery-grave footsteps. :D

Like all King books, you know something horrible is going to happen, something very horrible, but King will hint at it CONSTANTLY. At every turn, he will remind you THIS WILL NOT END WELL. But deep down, you also know that it might not end “happily ever after” but good WILL conquer evil. What I like about King is that he always makes me wonder—will this be the book that goes off-script?

Short description: Edgar Freemantle is a Minnesotan contractor who gets hit by a crane, suffers a head injury, and loses his right arm. After his wife divorces him, he moves to a beach house in Florida to recover, starts painting as a form of therapy, paints some things he shouldn’t be able to see, and the rest is awesome. And scary.