The Thief of Always

"Menacing demons, wondrous miracles, sinister magic, and vivid characters make Thief a compulsive, lightning-paced tales that almost begs to be read aloud." — Miami HeraldOne of horror master and perennial bestseller Clive Barker’s earliest novels—the tale of a haunted house with many a dark secret.Mr. Hood's Holiday House has stood for a thousand years, welcoming countless children into its embrace. It is a place of miracles where every childhood whim may be satisfied. There is a price to be paid, of course, but young Harvey Swick, bored with his life and beguiled by Mr. Hood's wonders, does not stop to consider the consequences. It is only when the house shows its darker face—when Harvey discovers the pitiful creatures that dwell in its shadows—that he comes to doubt Mr. Hood's philanthropy.But the house and its mysterious architect are not about to release their captive without a battle. Mr. Hood has ambitions for his new guest, for Harvey's soul burns brighter than any he has encountered in ten centuries . . .

Midweek"Appropriate for all ages."

"An impressive piece of storytelling."

Washington Post Book World

“Charming and pleasantly shuddery.”

Chicago Tribune

“Barker...sets up his enchanted kingdom with plenty of wit and atmosphere.”

San Diego Union-Tribune

“A modern fable written with literary flare and storytelling-with-a-twist style that will entertain and enchant.”

Publishers Weekly

“In a tale that manages to be both cute and horrifying, bestselling novelist and screenwriter Barker puts the dark side back into childhood fantasy.”

From the Back Cover

Mr. Hood's Holiday House has stood for a thousand years, welcoming countless children into its embrace. It is a place of miracles where every childhood whim may be satisfied. There is a price to be paid, of course, but young Harvey Swick, bored with his life and beguiled by Mr. Hood's wonders, does not stop to consider the consequences. It is only when the house shows its darker face—when Harvey discovers the pitiful creatures that dwell in its shadows—that he comes to doubt Mr. Hood's philanthropy.But the house and its mysterious architect are not about to release their captive without a battle. Mr. Hood has ambitions for his new guest, for Harvey's soul burns brighter than any he has encountered in ten centuries . . .

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

The Thief of AlwaysBy Clive BarkerHarperCollins Publishers, Inc.Copyright © 2008 Clive BarkerAll right reserved.ISBN: 9780061684265Chapter OneHarvey Half-DevouredThe great gray beast February had eaten Harvey Swick alive. Here he was, buried in the belly of that smothering month, wondering if he would ever find his way out through the cold coils that lay between here and Easter.He didn't think much of his chances. More than likely he'd become so bored as the hours crawled by that one day he'd simply forget to breathe. Then maybe people would get to wondering why such a fine young lad had perished in his prime. It would become a celebrated mystery, which wouldn't be solved until some great detective decided to re-create a day in Harvey's life.Then, and only then, would the grim truth be discovered. The detective would first follow Harvey's route to school every morning, trekking through the dismal streets. Then he'd sit at Harvey's desk, and listen to the pitiful drone of the history teacher and the science teacher, and wonder how the heroic boy had managed to keep his eyes open. And finally, as the wasted day dwindled to dusk, he'd trace the homeward trek, and as he set foot on the step from which he had departed that morning, and people asked him—as they would—why such a sweet soul as Harvey had died, he would shake his head and say: "It's very simple.""Oh?" the curious crowd would say. "Do tell."And, brushing away a tear, the detective would reply: "Harvey Swick was eaten by the great gray beast February."It was a monstrous month, that was for sure; a dire and dreary month. The pleasures of Christmas, both sharp and sweet, were already dimming in Harvey's memory, and the promise of summer was so remote as to be mythical. There'd be a spring break, of course, but how far off was that? Five weeks? Six? Mathematics wasn't his strong point, so he didn't irritate himself further by attempting—and failing—to calculate the days. He simply knew that long before the sun came to save him he would have withered away in the belly of the beast."You shouldn't waste your time sitting up here," his mom said when she came in and found him watching the raindrops chase each other down the glass of his bedroom window."I've got nothing better to do," Harvey said, without looking around."Well then, you can make yourself useful," his mom said.Harvey shuddered. Useful? That was another word for hard labor. He sprang up, marshaling his excuses—he hadn't done this; he hadn't done that—but it was too late."You can start by tidying up this room," his mom said."But --""Don't sit wishing the days away, honey. Life's too short.""But --""That's a good boy."And with that she left him to it. Muttering to himself, he stared around the room. It wasn't even untidy. There were one or two games scattered around; a couple of drawers open; a few clothes hanging out: It looked just fine."I am ten," he said to himself (having no brothers and sisters, he talked to himself a good deal). "I mean, it's not like I'm a kid. I don't have to tidy up just because she says so. It's boring."He wasn't just muttering now, he was talking out loud."I want to...I want to..."He went to the mirror, and quizzed it. "What do I want?" The strawhaired, snub-nosed, brown-eyed boy he saw before him shook his head. "I don't know what I want," he said. "I just know I'll die if I don't have some fun. I will! I'll die!"As he spoke, the window rattled. A gust of wind blew hard against it—then a second; then a third—and even though Harvey didn't remember the window being so much as an inch ajar, it was suddenly thrown open. Cold rain spattered his face. Half closing his eyes, he crossed to the window and fumbled to slam it, making sure that the latch was in place this time.The wind had started his lamp moving, and when he turned back the whole room seemed to be swinging around. One moment the fight was blazing in his eyes, the next it was flooding the opposite wall. But in between the blaze and the flood it lit the middle of his room, and standing there—shaking the rain off his hat—was a stranger.He looked harmless enough. He was no more than six inches taller than Harvey, his frame scrawny, his skin distinctly yellowish in color. He was wearing a fancy suit, a pair of spectacles and a lavish smile."Who are you?" Harvey demanded, wondering how he could get past this interloper to the door."Don't be nervous," the man replied, teasing off one of his suede gloves, taking Harvey's hand and shaking it. "My name's Rictus. You are Harvey Swick, aren't you?""Yes...""I thought for a moment I'd got the wrong house."Harvey couldn't take his eyes off Rictus's grin. It was wide enough to shame a shark, with two perfect rows of gleaming teeth.Rictus took off his spectacles, pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of his waterlogged jacket, then started to mop off the raindrops. Either he or the handkerchief gave off an odor that was far from fragrant. The smell, in truth, was flatulent."You've got questions, I can see that," Rictus said to Harvey."Yeah.""Ask away. I've got nothing to hide.""Well, how did you get in, for one thing?""Through the window, of course.""It's a long way up from the street.""Not if you're flying.""Flying?""Of course. How else was I going to get around on a foul night like this?Continues...Excerpted from The Thief of Alwaysby Clive Barker Copyright © 2008 by Clive Barker. Excerpted by permission. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

About the Author

Clive Barker is the bestselling author of twenty-two books, including the New York Times bestsellers Abarat; Abarat: Days of Magic, Nights of War; the Hellraiser and Candyman series, and The Thief of Always. He is also an acclaimed painter, film producer, and director. He lives in Southern California.

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