Like good vodka, Stephen King's "Pet Sematary" goes down smooth, sip after sip, page after page, until you realize you've ingested the whole thing in a single sitting...

But just wait until you feel the hangover.

If you're a horror fan, then "Pet Sematary" should be at the top of your reading list. Easily the most horrifying of King's work, this is the only book that ever scared me, hardened horror fan that I am. Without hesitation, I will tell you that this is my favorite book ever.

Unlike many modern horror novels, "Pet Sematary" isn't full of cheap scares. Very few things in the novel are startling, and King never really goes for the gross-out factor that shock horror writers such as Britain's James Herbert use on a regular basis. Instead, there's a pervasive creepiness throughout the novel -- the kind of creepiness that raises the hair on the back of your neck, and finds you rubbing away goosebumps from your arms.

As "Pet Sematary" opens, the Creeds, an upwardly mobile family of four, arrive at their new home in Maine. Though seemingly idyllic, the house has one major flaw. It is located -- as their kindly old neighbor, Jud Crandall, puts it -- on "one mean road".

The road, Jud says, "uses up a lot of pets". Heavily traveled by Orinco trucks, it is a road to be wary of -- a danger not only to pets, but certainly to young children as well. Of course, the Creeds have two young children -- a five year old daughter, Ellie, and a toddling baby boy, Gage.

From the opening pages, the horror begins to unravel. There's that small but well-tended path that winds up the back of the Creeds' property and out of sight. How innocuous can it get -- a pretty, winding path, on a day of new beginnings? What could be a better metaphor for a brand new start for a nice, young family?

But this is Stephen King. The path is a metaphor, alright, but not for shiny, new beginnings -- because what lies at the end of this path is the pet cemetery (or pet sematary as the child-drawn sign reads), a place of shattered dreams and broken hearts. And beyond the pet cemetery? Well, that, folks, is what you'll find out when you read "Pet Sematary".

Not once in "Pet Sematary" does King flinch, though you'll find yourself wishing, sometimes, that he would. Instead, he steers we, the readers, directly down taboo lane, stopping to examine the subjects of death and burial, compulsion and the darker side of human nature.

"Pet Sematary" gives us some of Stephen King's best writing. The prose is vivid and immediate, and very, very full. If, as they say, the devil is in the details, then the devil has taken up residence in "Pet Sematary".

Details breathe life into this novel, because Stephen King sets his scene well. From the momentous trip to the ancient Micmac burial grounds, to brief interludes such as a late-night beer on Jud's porch, it is the details that make the difference. Stephen King has invented a world, and he's decorated it so thoroughly that you can't help but stop to gawk.

He's peopled it as well, and his characters are true-to-life. I've always been impressed by the depth of King's characters. Louis and Rachel, their children, Jud and Norma Crandall -- even Victor Pascow in his brief appearances -- all seem truly organic. There are none of those Ho hum. There's another ghost. Yawn. reactions that are so prevalent in bad horror. Characterization is something that has been very much remiss in this genre, but there is nothing remiss in the characterization of "Pet Sematary".

Each character has a history, habits, quirks, and most importantly, relevance. There's nothing more frustrating in an otherwise good novel, than to have out-of-place characters, but here, everything seems to fit perfectly.

Louis Creed's need for order, for control, is relevant to the plot. Rachel's quirkiness, her death phobia, well, that's relevant, too. Even Jud and Norma's quickly apparent sense of loyalty, is relevant.

In fact, throughout my readings of "Pet Sematary", the one thing that strikes me again and again is how natural King makes this relevance seem. This book is seamless, everything setting the stage for the feeling of inevitability that winds throughout the novel.

In fact, while "Pet Sematary" is the most horrifying of King's work, it is also the most reflective. Inevitability is one theme that runs throughout, and King stops often to take a look at the concept of free will versus inevitability. King uses it to foreshadow beautifully.

Take the following passage, as Louis's daughter prepares to board the bus for her first day of kindergarten:

Ellie cast a strange, vulnerable glance back over her shoulder, as if to ask them if there might not yet be time to abort this inevitable process, and perhaps what she saw on the faces of her parents convinced her that the time was gone, and everything which would follow this first day was simply inevitable.

What's really inevitable, in the end, is the power of "Pet Sematary" Just as the enchanted land beyond the pet cemetery calls to Louis Creed, Stephen King's novel calls to his readers. It pulls you in and holds you in its darkly magical grip.

So tonight, leave all the lights burning, and keep your bottle of aspirin handy, because "Pet Sematary" will leave you sleepless and queasy, but -- like any good addiction -- it will also leave you craving more.