Halloween 2 by Jack Martin. I bought the book at the mall. I had the first book. Was fucking thrilled to get this one. Yes, I was still a kid, but my parents didn't have any hesitation when it came to the books I read. I could read anything I wanted, and I wanted this. The cover alone was worth any price I had to pay.
So I sat on the couch and dived into it, and it was tense. Very tense. I started playing with my tooth out of nervousness. I had just started to come loose. By the time I was done with the book my tooth would be gone and my mouth would be bleeding horribly. Yes, I tore my own tooth out while reading this because I was so into the story that tore out my own tooth and didn't feel a damn thing. I remember not only pulling on it, but twisting it. Back and forth. Forwards and back. I was doing my best to tear the thing from its housing in my gums, and I didn't taste a drop of blood.
It's amazing that a book can so thoroughly transfer to some world where you don't even feel pain. Looking back now, I doubt the story was all that great, but to my young mind it was the exact thing I wanted to read. I loved the movie, but the book took me into Haddonfield far more deeply than the film ever could.
My copy of the book is back East somewhere. I doubt I'll ever see it again. I'll never forget, though, looking down at the tooth in my blood-slick fingers (I was careful not to get any of the red love on the pages) and thinking, "Wow. How did I do this?"
Maybe I should go find a used copy somewhere ...
-Doug Brunell (America's Favorite Son)