By Stephen King, Joe Hill
Retail book -- eBook-only Novella
Mile 81 meets “N.” during this e-book collaboration among Stephen King and Joe Hill.
As USA TODAY stated of Stephen King’s Mile 81: “Park and scream. may possibly there be any higher position to set a horror tale than an deserted relaxation stop?” In the Tall Grass
starts with a sister and brother who pull off to the aspect of the line after listening to a tender boy crying for support from past the tall grass. inside mins they're disoriented, in deeper than turns out attainable, and they’ve misplaced each other. The boy’s cries are a growing number of determined. What follows is a terrifying, unique, and masterfully informed story, as in simple terms Stephen King and Joe Hill can deliver.
Includes excerpts from Doctor Sleep and NOS4A2.
Read Online or Download In the Tall Grass PDF
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Additional info for In the Tall Grass
Lately, it always seemed to come too soon, Max realized. When night was the time for him to be up and moving around, cleaning, doing laundry, going to the bar, hanging out, the night seemed to be plenty of time to get everything done. He’d even found himself bored on occasion. But now, when he had to tear himself away from Bella’s warm, soft body, the night seemed unfairly short. Now, the dawn loomed on the horizon, and with it inevitable separation. He was trying hard not to be morose, but it was more difficult than he’d expected.
The human mimicked Nathan’s posture, falling into obviously unwilling sleep. I didn’t have any hard feelings toward him for not trusting us. After all, the vampire who’d just taken a chunk out of him was curled into a seemingly harmless ball on the ground beside him. I got closer to Nathan, pulling my legs under me and leaning my head against his chest. How are you doing? I whispered through the blood tie. Scared to death. But I’ll survive. He hooked a finger under my chin and lifted my face up to his.
Nothing physical, but the atmosphere had shifted. After I’d first been changed, I’d seen Nathan’s home as a fortress, a refuge. Sanctuary. And then, after I’d become a permanent resident, as home. Now it was cold and unfeeling, as if the walls were living things who would just as soon give us all up to our enemies and be done with us as abide us living within them. “I hate to point this out, but you guys kind of destroyed my car and put a giant kink in my livelihood,” Bill said, sliding a stack of mutilated notebooks onto a shelf.