Invasion of the Body Snatchers: A Novel
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Celebrate the sixtieth anniversary of one of the earliest science fiction novels by rediscovering Jack Finney’s internationally acclaimed Invasion of the Body Snatchers—which Stephen King calls a story “to be read and savored for its own satisfactions,” now repackaged with a foreword by #1 New York Times bestselling author, Dean Koontz.
On a quiet fall evening in the peaceful town of Mill Valley, California, Dr. Miles Bennell discovers an insidious, horrifying plot. Subtly, almost imperceptibly, alien life-forms are taking over the bodies and minds of his neighbors, friends, family, the woman he loves, and the entire world as he knows it.
First published in 1955, this classic science fiction thriller about the ultimate alien invasion and the triumph of the human spirit over an invisible enemy has inspired multiple film adaptations and entertained readers for decades. This repackaged edition features a new cover by Hugo award–winning illustrator, John Picacio and a foreword by New York Times bestselling author, Dean Koontz.
resembled her real father exactly, I didn’t know how to argue with her. Anyway, I liked holding Becky. She wasn’t a big woman exactly, but she wasn’t small, and nothing in her construction had been skimped or neglected. There in my car, on the silent street in front of her home, Becky fitted into my arms very nicely, her cheek on my lapel. I was worried and scared, even panicky, but there was still room for enjoying the warm, alive feel of Becky pressed close. When the crying tapered off to an
house, gathering up clothes; Jack had a butcher knife thrust into his belt, I took every cent of money I had in the place, and we found Theodora down in the kitchen, half dressed, packing canned goods into a small carton; I don’t know what she thought she was doing. We actually bumped into one another in hallways, on the stairs, and rushing out of rooms; it must have looked like an old-time silent-film comedy, only there was no laughter in it. We were running—out of that house, and out of that
simply left the world and life for exhausted oblivion, and it was the best thing that could have happened to me. I might have slept on till noon, I think, but around eight-thirty, quarter to nine, I turned over, bumped into someone, and heard her sigh. My eyes flashed open as Becky, still asleep, turned to snuggle close to me. It was too much. Wonderfully warm, flushed with sleep, the soft column of her breath pressing my cheek, she lay full length beside me, and I could no more have stopped
home, the finger tips of each hand found those of the other, in academic, professorial gesture, and he smiled at us, a youthful, pleasant-faced man. “It’s a good question, but there is an answer, and a simple one. As you surmised, the pods are, in a sense, seed pods, though not in the sense that we know seeds. But in any case, they are living matter, capable, just as are seeds, of enormous and complex growth and development. And they did drift through space, the original ones, anyway, over
we could walk to the freeway, there would be times when we could be seen clearly. And long since, I knew, in the time we’d lain silent and motionless in this field, the search would have been organized, the hunting party completed; every able-bodied man, woman, and half-grown child in Mill Valley, for all I knew. And there was only one way we could come, the way we now began walking: toward 101. And they knew that, all of them, as well as we. We weren’t going to get out; that was certain, and I