'salem's Lot by Stephen King'salem's Lot by Stephen King

'salem's Lot

byStephen King

Mass Market Paperback | December 27, 2011

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Ben Mears has returned to Jerusalem's Lot in the hopes that living in an old mansion, long the subject of town lore, will help him cast out his own devils and provide inspiration for his new book. But when two young boys venture into the woods and only one comes out alive, Mears begins to realize that there may be something sinister at work and that his hometown is under siege by forces of darkness far beyond his control.

Stephen King is the author of more than fifty books, all of them worldwide bestsellers. Among his most recent are Full Dark, No Stars; Under the Dome; Just After Sunset; Duma Key; Lisey’s Story; Cell; and the concluding novels in the Dark Tower saga: Wolves of the Calla, Song of Susannah, and The Dark Tower. His acclaimed nonfiction bo...
Title:'salem's LotFormat:Mass Market PaperbackProduct dimensions:672 pages, 6.87 × 4.19 × 1.43 inShipping dimensions:6.87 × 4.19 × 1.43 inPublished:December 27, 2011Publisher:Knopf Doubleday Publishing GroupLanguage:English

The following ISBNs are associated with this title:

ISBN - 10:0307743675

ISBN - 13:9780307743671

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Rated 5 out of 5 by from Loved it!! I finished this novel in two days, an absolute entertaining novel. A must read, you will not be disappointed.
Date published: 2019-06-19
Rated 5 out of 5 by from New Favourite I'm an avid Stephen King reader and this one is by far my favourite. The writing is excellent, the storyline is well thought out, the twists are shocking, and it wraps up beautifully but still leaves the reader wondering.
Date published: 2018-10-05
Rated 2 out of 5 by from meh Not my favorite SK book. It's got a sloooow build. I believe this is intentional, as I've read that he wanted this to be his Haunting of Hill House/Bram Stoker's Dracula - both slow builds. I admit to being effected by its 'creepiness' - woke up from a nightmare one night and couldn't get back I sleep! I found the build took so long that when the "excitement" finally happened I wasn't sure if it was a character's imagination, or if the screen truly took place. The copy I read included 2 mini-stories after (or part of?) the epilogue. One takes place 2 yrs after the book, one takes place 100 years before. I had the impression that they were written years later. The writing of both seemed more characteristic of his later books - more (for lack of a better word) "sophisticated". They flowed better then I found the novel had and I didn't have to look up the definition of any words.
Date published: 2018-08-07
Rated 5 out of 5 by from Fantastic One of his early works but by no means a sloucher when it comes to a good story and characters. It grabs you from the start. Would absolutely recommend.
Date published: 2018-08-01
Rated 5 out of 5 by from haunting if you even need a book that gives you a feeling of dread, this is your book!
Date published: 2018-07-27
Rated 5 out of 5 by from Amazing I didn't even know that it was about vampires until the end!!!
Date published: 2018-07-19
Rated 5 out of 5 by from Awesome Loved this book! creepy and chilling. #plumrewards
Date published: 2018-07-19
Rated 5 out of 5 by from Classic if you like vampire stories, get this NOW! almost to the level of Dracula. King knows how to write the best horror and nobody else comes close.
Date published: 2018-07-18
Rated 5 out of 5 by from Great read This was the second Stephen king book I read, I have now read almost every one of this books and this is still a favourite of mine. Classic.
Date published: 2018-07-12
Rated 5 out of 5 by from A brilliant read King never disappoints with his books. Definitely one of my favourites
Date published: 2018-06-11
Rated 5 out of 5 by from Great and origanal book Salem's Lot is by far the best vampire story I've read. Its original and is scary because the vampires aren't like the ones written now-a-days, they are truly evil. One of Stephen King's best!
Date published: 2018-06-06
Rated 5 out of 5 by from Love it Another amazing book from Stephen King. Tore through it in 2 days and was creeped out sufficiently by it
Date published: 2018-06-04
Rated 5 out of 5 by from Enjoyable Found this book rather enjoyable, pleasure to read.
Date published: 2018-04-08
Rated 5 out of 5 by from Loved it! Loved this one! Also cool the connection with the DT series. #plumreview
Date published: 2018-04-02
Rated 5 out of 5 by from Brilliantly Twisted A prime example of the stunningly, dark yet brilliant work of King. Definitely a must read if a fan of the horror/suspense genre or if you like vampires or if, like myself, you are a major fan of King's work in general. #plumreview
Date published: 2018-03-04
Rated 2 out of 5 by from Not my favourite Everyone seems to like this, and I did at first until I found out what was the main characters thing in the house,,,, not the scariest but definitely interesting.
Date published: 2018-02-13
Rated 4 out of 5 by from One of King's best. Very good book. Great plot that keeps you interested. Very good writing.
Date published: 2018-02-06
Rated 5 out of 5 by from Great book Another great book by King. An oldie but a goodie. Worth a read.
Date published: 2018-02-01
Rated 3 out of 5 by from wonderfully evil atmosphere I'm sure this was quite groundbreaking for its time. i was thoroughly gripped at the beginning and the story began to fall flat when i realized it was going to be about vampires. this was underwhelming to me because vampires are rather low stakes; I don't feel frightened for anyone who is about to become or sad for anyone who has become a vampire. This bits about the idea of a lingering evil conjured by human misdeeds is way more compelling. A promising start and a bit of a let-down horror-wise for me, but still an exciting, if fluffy, page-turner once the adventuring kicks in.
Date published: 2018-01-19
Rated 5 out of 5 by from Great Read One of Stephen King's great. Highly recommended.
Date published: 2018-01-05
Rated 5 out of 5 by from My first Stephen King book This was the first book I read by Stephen King. It was amazing. It was interesting and kept me at the edge of my seat. I normally dont read Vampire books but this was a must read.
Date published: 2017-12-27
Rated 4 out of 5 by from Another great book by Stephen King! I went into this book blind, not knowing it about vampires. Unfortunately, vampire books arent my thing but Stephen King's writing made me enjoy this book!
Date published: 2017-12-15
Rated 4 out of 5 by from So good! I wasn't expecting much, but it surprised me. It's really good!
Date published: 2017-12-09
Rated 5 out of 5 by from Excellent one of King's best novel of all time!
Date published: 2017-12-05
Rated 5 out of 5 by from Love this book This book is so creepy, it leaves a lasting impression. It definitely stays with you long after you've finished reading.
Date published: 2017-11-14
Rated 5 out of 5 by from Classic Vampire Story This book is a lot of fun and pretty spooky. It's not the scariest Stephen King book I've ever read an since I'm a big vampire fan I was pretty into all the classic vampire scary stuff. Classic King
Date published: 2017-11-14
Rated 5 out of 5 by from Excellent! A classic Gothic vampire story. An instant classic (and the movie is great as well) #plumreview
Date published: 2017-11-10
Rated 5 out of 5 by from Chilling, gothic story One of my favourite Stephen King books, I'd highly recommend it
Date published: 2017-11-10
Rated 4 out of 5 by from A great gothic tale Vampires have been bastardized as of late with all those horrible Twilight novels--it's good to see in the 70s, King was still making them scary and gothic, like they deserved.
Date published: 2017-11-03
Rated 3 out of 5 by from Solid, spooky read ** spoiler alert ** I love me some Stephen King. His writing is so detailed that I find it easy to picture how the story is unfolding. Admittedly, the vampire theme was a little cheesy but it definitely gave me the spooks at times.
Date published: 2017-10-18
Rated 5 out of 5 by from Perfect October read This is what spooky stories should be! I don't want to give anything away in terms of what sort of evil appears in the story, as it remains unknown for the first while, which makes it all the creepier, but it's done beautifully. As always, great descriptions, haunting imagery and story, and just an all around great spooky thriller. Perfect for Halloween!
Date published: 2017-10-10
Rated 4 out of 5 by from A Fun Read! King's second novel is a simple, fun read; a real page-turner. In my opinion, this is a giant leap forward from his first novel "Carrie".
Date published: 2017-09-04
Rated 4 out of 5 by from A great read! I really enjoyed this, I mostly had read King's later work but after finishing the Dark Tower series I bought some older ones. A thrilling tale of a small town turned upside down, a great take on vampire stories.
Date published: 2017-07-19
Rated 5 out of 5 by from Great One of the best Vampire tales there is, and one of King's finest novels
Date published: 2017-04-28
Rated 3 out of 5 by from didnt like i found this book not as interesting
Date published: 2017-01-28
Rated 3 out of 5 by from Didn't like it like I knew I wouldn't Well... I tried it. There wasn't much I liked about about Salems Lot at all. I thought the writing was ok. Mr. King wrote Salems Lot as this small gossipy town, which I didn't like. Horror is my lest favorite genre to watch or read, but I figured I would give this one a try anyway. Needless to say I have no desire to read anything else by Stephen King other than 11/22/63.
Date published: 2016-12-12
Rated 5 out of 5 by from Currently Reading.... While I am currently reading this book, I must say that this is quite an exquisite story. One of King's best, and a great spin on the classic tale of Dracula.
Date published: 2016-11-13
Rated 5 out of 5 by from Great Just the right amount of spook to keep you on edge and fearing dark basements. I loved it, kept me reading. MUST READ
Date published: 2015-04-23

Read from the Book

Chapter OneBen (I)By the time he had passed Portland going north on the turnpike, Ben Mears had begun to feel a not unpleasurable tingle of excitement in his belly. It was September 5, 1975, and summer was enjoying her final grand fling. The trees were bursting with green, the sky was a high, soft blue, and just over the Falmouth town line he saw two boys walking a road parallel to the expressway with fishing rods settled on their shoulders like carbines.He switched to the travel lane, slowed to the minimum turnpike speed, and began to look for anything that would jog his memory. There was nothing at first, and he tried to caution himself against almost sure disappointment. You were nine then. That's twenty-five years of water under the bridge. Places change. Like people.In those days the four-lane 295 hadn't existed. If you wanted to go to Portland from the Lot, you went out Route 12 to Falmouth and then got on Number 1. Time had marched on.Stop that shit.But it was hard to stop. It was hard to stop when--A big BSA cycle with jacked handlebars suddenly roared past him in the passing lane, a kid in a T-shirt driving, a girl in a red cloth jacket and huge mirror-lensed sunglasses riding pillion behind him. They cut in a little too quickly and he overreacted, jamming on his brakes and laying both hands on the horn. The BSA sped up, belching blue smoke from its exhaust, and the girl jabbed her middle finger back at him.He resumed speed, wishing for a cigarette. His hands were trembling slightly. The BSA was almost out of sight now, moving fast. The kids. The goddamned kids. Memories tried to crowd in on him, memories of a more recent vintage. He pushed them away. He hadn't been on a motorcycle in two years. He planned never to ride on one again.A flash of red caught his eye off to the left, and when he glanced that way, he felt a burst of pleasure and recognition. A large red barn stood on a hill far across a rising field of timothy and clover, a barn with a cupola painted white--even at this distance he could see the sun gleam on the weather vane atop that cupola. It had been there then and was still here now. It looked exactly the same. Maybe it was going to be all right after all. Then the trees blotted it out.As the turnpike entered Cumberland, more and more things began to seem familiar. He passed over the Royal River, where they had fished for steelies and pickerel as boys. Past a brief, flickering view of Cumberland Village through the trees. In the distance the Cumberland water tower with its huge slogan painted across the side: "Keep Maine Green." Aunt Cindy had always said someone should print "Bring Money" underneath that.His original sense of excitement grew and he began to speed up, watching for the sign. It came twinkling up out of the distance in reflectorized green five miles later:ROUTE 12 JERUSALEM'S LOTCUMBERLAND CUMBERLAND CTRA sudden blackness came over him, dousing his good spirits like sand on fire. He had been subject to these since (his mind tried to speak Miranda's name and he would not let it) the bad time and was used to fending them off, but this one swept over him with a savage power that was dismaying.What was he doing, coming back to a town where he had lived for four years as a boy, trying to recapture something that was irrevocably lost? What magic could he expect to recapture by walking roads that he had once walked as a boy and were probably asphalted and straightened and logged off and littered with tourist beer cans? The magic was gone, both white and black. It had all gone down the chutes on that night when the motorcycle had gone out of control and then there was the yellow moving van, growing and growing, his wife Miranda's scream, cut off with sudden finality when--The exit came up on his right, and for a moment he considered driving right past it, continuing on to Chamberlain or Lewiston, stopping for lunch, and then turning around and going back. But back where? Home? That was a laugh. If there was a home, it had been here. Even if it had only been four years, it was his.He signaled, slowed the Citroën, and went up the ramp. Toward the top, where the turnpike ramp joined Route 12 (which became Jointner Avenue closer to town), he glanced up toward the horizon. What he saw there made him jam the brakes on with both feet. The Citro‘n shuddered to a stop and stalled.The trees, mostly pine and spruce, rose in gentle slopes toward the east, seeming to almost crowd against the sky at the limit of vision. From here the town was not visible. Only the trees, and in the distance, where those trees rose against the sky, the peaked, gabled roof of the Marsten House.He gazed at it, fascinated. Warring emotions crossed his face with kaleidoscopic swiftness."Still here," he murmured aloud. "By God."He looked down at his arms. They had broken out in goose flesh.TWOHe deliberately skirted town, crossing into Cumberland and then coming back into 'salem's Lot from the west, taking the Burns Road. He was amazed by how little things had changed out here. There were a few new houses he didn't remember, there was a tavern called Dell's just over the town line, and a pair of fresh gravel quarries. A good deal of the hardwood had been pulped over. But the old tin sign pointing the way to the town dump was still there, and the road itself was still unpaved, full of chuckholes and washboards, and he could see Schoolyard Hill through the slash in the trees where the Central Maine Power pylons ran on a northwest to southeast line. The Griffen farm was still there, although the barn had been enlarged. He wondered if they still bottled and sold their own milk. The logo had been a smiling cow under the name brand: "Sunshine Milk from the Griffen Farms!" He smiled. He had splashed a lot of that milk on his corn flakes at Aunt Cindy's house.He turned left onto the Brooks Road, passed the wrought-iron gates and the low fieldstone wall surrounding Harmony Hill Cemetery, and then went down the steep grade and started up the far side--the side known as Marsten's Hill.At the top, the trees fell away on both sides of the road. On the right, you could look right down into the town proper--Ben's first view of it. On the left, the Marsten House. He pulled over and got out of the car.It was just the same. There was no difference, not at all. He might have last seen it yesterday.The witch grass grew wild and tall in the front yard, obscuring the old, frost-heaved flagstones that led to the porch. Chirring crickets sang in it, and he could see grasshoppers jumping in erratic parabolas.The house itself looked toward town. It was huge and rambling and sagging, its windows haphazardly boarded shut, giving it that sinister look of all old houses that have been empty for a long time. The paint had been weathered away, giving the house a uniform gray look. Windstorms had ripped many of the shingles off, and a heavy snowfall had punched in the west corner of the main roof, giving it a slumped, hunched look. A tattered no-trespassing sign was nailed to the right-hand newel post.He felt a strong urge to walk up that overgrown path, past the crickets and hoppers that would jump around his shoes, climb the porch, peek between the haphazard boards into the hallway or the front room. Perhaps try the front door. If it was unlocked, go in.He swallowed and stared up at the house, almost hypnotized. It stared back at him with idiot indifference.You walked down the hall, smelling wet plaster and rotting wallpaper, and mice would skitter in the walls. There would still be a lot of junk lying around, and you might pick something up, a paperweight maybe, and put it in your pocket. Then, at the end of the hall, instead of going through into the kitchen, you could turn left and go up the stairs, your feet gritting in the plaster dust which had sifted down from the ceiling over the years. There were fourteen steps, exactly fourteen. But the top one was smaller, out of proportion, as if it had been added to avoid the evil number. At the top of the stairs you stand on the landing, looking down the hall toward a closed door. And if you walk down the hall toward it, watching as if from outside yourself as the door gets closer and larger, you can reach out your hand and put it on the tarnished silver knob--He turned away from the house, a straw-dry whistle of air slipping from his mouth. Not yet. Later, perhaps, but not yet. For now it was enough to know that all of that was still here. It had waited for him. He put his hands on the hood of his car and looked out over the town. He could find out down there who was handling the Marsten House, and perhaps lease it. The kitchen would make an adequate writing room and he could bunk down in the front parlor. But he wouldn't allow himself to go upstairs.Not unless it had to be done.He got in his car, started it, and drove down the hill to Jerusalem's Lot.Chapter TwoSusan (I)He was sitting on a bench in the park when he observed the girl watching him. She was a very pretty girl, and there was a silk scarf tied over her light blond hair. She was currently reading a book, but there was a sketch pad and what looked like a charcoal pencil beside her. It was Tuesday, September 16, the first day of school, and the park had magically emptied of the rowdier element. What was left was a scattering of mothers with infants, a few old men sitting by the war memorial, and this girl sitting in the dappled shade of a gnarled old elm.She looked up and saw him. An expression of startlement crossed her face. She looked down at her book; looked up at him again and started to rise; almost thought better of it; did rise; sat down again.He got up and walked over, holding his own book, which was a paperback Western. "Hello," he said agreeably. "Do we know each other?""No," she said. "That is . . . you're Benjaman Mears, right?""Right." He raised his eyebrows.She laughed nervously, not looking in his eyes except in a quick flash, to try to read the barometer of his intentions. She was quite obviously a girl not accustomed to speaking to strange men in the park."I thought I was seeing a ghost." She held up the book in her lap. He saw fleetingly that "Jerusalem's Lot Public Library" was stamped on the thickness of pages between covers. The book was Air Dance, his second novel. She showed him the photograph of himself on the back jacket, a photo that was four years old now. The face looked boyish and frighteningly serious--the eyes were black diamonds."Of such inconsequential beginnings dynasties are begun," he said, and although it was a joking throwaway remark, it hung oddly in the air, like prophecy spoken in jest. Behind them, a number of toddlers were splashing happily in the wading pool and a mother was telling Roddy not to push his sister so high. The sister went soaring up on her swing regardless, dress flying, trying for the sky. It was a moment he remembered for years after, as though a special small slice had been cut from the cake of time. If nothing fires between two people, such an instant simply falls back into the general wrack of memory.Then she laughed and offered him the book. "Will you autograph it?""A library book?""I'll buy it from them and replace it."He found a mechanical pencil in his sweater pocket, opened the book to the flyleaf, and asked, "What's your name?""Susan Norton."He wrote quickly, without thinking: For Susan Norton, the prettiest girl in the park. Warm regards, Ben Mears. He added the date below his signature in slashed notation."Now you'll have to steal it," he said, handing it back. "Air Dance is out of print, alas.""I'll get a copy from one of those book finders in New York." She hesitated, and this time her glance at his eyes was a little longer. "It's an awfully good book.""Thanks. When I take it down and look at it, I wonder how it ever got published.""Do you take it down often?""Yeah, but I'm trying to quit."She grinned at him and they both laughed and that made things more natural. Later he would have a chance to think how easily this had happened, how smoothly. The thought was never a comfortable one. It conjured up an image of fate, not blind at all but equipped with sentient 20/20 vision and intent on grinding helpless mortals between the great millstones of the universe to make some unknown bread."I read Conway's Daughter, too. I loved that. I suppose you hear that all the time.""Remarkably little," he said honestly. Miranda had also loved Conway's Daughter, but most of his coffeehouse friends had been noncommittal and most of the critics had clobbered it. Well, that was critics for you. Plot was out, masturbation in."Well, I did.""Have you read the new one?""Billy Said Keep Going? Not yet. Miss Coogan at the drugstore says it's pretty racy.""Hell, it's almost puritanical," Ben said. "The language is rough, but when you're writing about uneducated country boys, you can't . . . look, can I buy you an ice-cream soda or something? I was just getting a hanker on for one."She checked his eyes a third time. Then smiled, warmly. "Sure. I'd love one. They're great in Spencer's."That was the beginning of it.

Editorial Reviews

"Spine-tingling fiction at its best." --Grand Rapids Press"A master storyteller." --The Los Angeles Times"An unabashed chiller." --Austin American Statesman“[The] most wonderfully gruesome man on the planet.” —USA Today “A super exorcism...tremendous.” —Kirkus Reviews “A novel of chilling, unspeakable evil.” —Chattanooga Times “[King is] . . . the guy who probably knows more about scary goings-on in confined, isolated places than anybody since Edgar Allan Poe.” —Entertainment Weekly “Stephen King has built a literary genre of putting ordinary people in the most terrifying situations. . . . he’s the author who can always make the improbable so scary you'll feel compelled to check the locks on the front door.” —The Boston Globe “Peerless imagination.” —The Observer (London)