God, if I ever become this annoyingly saturated with intra-relationship slang you can just kill me.
Critics seemed to love this book, perhaps because it has relatively little gore. There is a much King-ier book buried in this; you get a glimpse of it with the Grand Guignol segment on the dead husband's upbringing and the confrontation with the stalker, but perhaps the best part is how it portrays relationships between siblings, parents, and spouses. The only terrible part (and it's really bad--I almost threw the book aside) is the protagonist's constant use of cutesy slang. It is like listening to someone's pudgy suburban aunt try to avoid swearing. The prose is, as Harold Bloom would be eager to tell you, only servicable, but you will be entertained. Recommended for people who are not too snobby to read Stephen King.
(Flashback post: I read this book a couple of months ago.)