You know, I don't like scary books and I never read mysteries or authors who crank out five books a year or novels that follow one particular hero/heroine/detective/homeless dude/whomever. But I did read this book, and I read it many years ago and let me just tell you that I clearly remember asking my then-husband to come with me to the bathroom because a) I couldn't stop reading it and b) I couldn't bear to be alone in a room - even a room as small and windowless as that tiny puke-green-tiled bathroom.

I eventually divorced that man, and I've forgotten a lot about him (small favors, right?). But that book I have NOT forgotten - I can still feel the fear that that book gave me. I had to read it straight through - I couldn't put it down because I couldn't sleep not knowing. It was seriously good.