Gerald's Game
Trade cloth edition in good condition. Slight fading to boards. Dust jacket with intact price point. Full number line starting with 1. Mylar cover included.
“If anyone ever asks you what panic is, now you can tell them: an emotional blank spot that leaves you feeling as if you’ve been sucking on a mouthful of pennies.”
A game. A husband-and-wife game. Gerald’s Game.
But this time Jessie didn’t want to play. Lying there, spreadeagled and handcuffed to the bedstead while he’d loomed and drooled over her, she’d felt angry and humiliated.
So she’d kicked out hard. Aimed to hit him where it hurt.
And now he was dead—a coronary—on the floor.
Leaving Jessie alone and helpless in a lakeside holiday cabin. Miles from nowhere. No-one to hear her screams.
Alone. Except for the voices in her head that began to chatter and argue and sneer…
Trade cloth edition in good condition. Slight fading to boards. Dust jacket with intact price point. Full number line starting with 1. Mylar cover included.
“If anyone ever asks you what panic is, now you can tell them: an emotional blank spot that leaves you feeling as if you’ve been sucking on a mouthful of pennies.”
A game. A husband-and-wife game. Gerald’s Game.
But this time Jessie didn’t want to play. Lying there, spreadeagled and handcuffed to the bedstead while he’d loomed and drooled over her, she’d felt angry and humiliated.
So she’d kicked out hard. Aimed to hit him where it hurt.
And now he was dead—a coronary—on the floor.
Leaving Jessie alone and helpless in a lakeside holiday cabin. Miles from nowhere. No-one to hear her screams.
Alone. Except for the voices in her head that began to chatter and argue and sneer…
Trade cloth edition in good condition. Slight fading to boards. Dust jacket with intact price point. Full number line starting with 1. Mylar cover included.
“If anyone ever asks you what panic is, now you can tell them: an emotional blank spot that leaves you feeling as if you’ve been sucking on a mouthful of pennies.”
A game. A husband-and-wife game. Gerald’s Game.
But this time Jessie didn’t want to play. Lying there, spreadeagled and handcuffed to the bedstead while he’d loomed and drooled over her, she’d felt angry and humiliated.
So she’d kicked out hard. Aimed to hit him where it hurt.
And now he was dead—a coronary—on the floor.
Leaving Jessie alone and helpless in a lakeside holiday cabin. Miles from nowhere. No-one to hear her screams.
Alone. Except for the voices in her head that began to chatter and argue and sneer…
ISBN 0-670-84650-3
Stephen King
1992