Pet Sematary - Stephen King - Bog

The house looked right, felt right to Dr Louis Creed. Rambling, old, unsmart and comfortable. A place where the family could settle; the children grow and play and explore. The rolling hills and meadows of Maine seemed a world away from the fume-choked dangers of Chicago. Only the occasional big truck out on the two-lane highway, grinding up through the gears, hammering down the long gradients, growled out an intrusive threat. But behind the house and far away from the road: that was safe. Just a carefully cleared path up into the woods where generations of local children have processed with the solemn innocence of the young, taking with them their dear departed pets for burial. A sad place maybe, but safe. Surely a safe place. Not a place to seep into your dreams, to wake you, sweating with fear and foreboding.

'SOMETIMES...DEAD IS BETTER'The house looks right, feels right to Dr Louis Creed. Rambling, old and comfortable. A place where the family can settle; the children grow and play and explore. The rolling hills and meadows of Maine seem a world away from the fume-choked dangers of the city.It's only those big trucks on the road outside which growl out unnerving threats. Behind the house there's a carefully cleared path up into the woods to a place where generations of local children walked in a procession with the solemn innocence of the young, taking with them their dear departed pets for burial.A sad place maybe, but safe. Surely a safe place. Not a place to seep into your dreams, to wake you, sweating with fear and foreboding...'King can make the flesh creep half a world away' - The Times'So beautifully paced that you cannot help but be pulled in' - Guardian'The most frightening novel Stephen King has ever written' - Publisher's Weekly