You've just turned the last page of Pet Sematary at 2 AM with every light in your house on. You've watched a perfectly ordinary storm drain with suspicion ever since It. You know exactly what King means when he writes about small-town New England, flawed but lovable characters, and the kind of terror that starts as a whisper in your mind before it becomes a scream.
Here's what makes King special: he doesn't just scare you—he makes you care first. His monsters are terrifying, sure, but it's the human hearts breaking under pressure that keep you reading until dawn. You're not just here for jump scares. You want stories that crawl under your skin, characters who feel like people you know, and that delicious dread that makes you check the locks one more time before bed.
If Stephen King is your literary comfort zone (in the most uncomfortable way possible), these 15 authors belong on your nightstand:
Start with Watchers and meet Einstein, a genetically enhanced golden retriever who might be smarter than you. Koontz delivers King-level page-turners with slightly more optimism about humanity (but don't worry, the scares are real). He's the author to pick when you want suspense that doesn't leave you completely devastated. His villains are genuinely creepy, his good guys actually fight back, and you'll finish each book in one sitting because putting it down feels impossible.
King himself called Straub a friend and collaborator for good reason. Ghost Story is everything you loved about 'Salem's Lot—that slow-burning dread, those secrets poisoning a small community, the past refusing to stay buried. Straub writes like he's sitting across from you at 3 AM, telling you something he shouldn't. If King is your favorite horror author, Straub might become your second. They literally wrote The Talisman together, so you know the vibes match perfectly.
Yes, he's King's son, but before you roll your eyes—Hill earned his reputation by publishing under a pseudonym and proving he inherited the talent, not just the name. NOS4A2 is genuinely frightening, The Fireman is heartbreaking and epic, and Heart-Shaped Box will make you think twice about online shopping. He writes with his father's emotional depth and character work, but with his own voice. Think of him as King for the next generation, with more tattoos and comic book references.
Boy's Life reads like if King wrote Stand By Me with actual magic and a murder mystery. McCammon nails that nostalgic small-town America feeling before introducing darkness that changes everything. He disappeared from publishing for years, then came roaring back—and if you haven't discovered him yet, you're in for a treat. Start with Swan Song if you loved The Stand, or Boy's Life if It is your favorite King novel. Either way, you're about to lose a weekend.
The Terror is what happens when you combine meticulous historical research with genuine supernatural horror and add a dash of the Arctic trying to kill everyone. Simmons writes like he time-traveled to 1845, survived the doomed Franklin Expedition, and came back to tell you every frozen, terrifying detail. It's slow-burn horror that rewards patience with genuine terror. If you loved the historical depth in 11/22/63, Simmons will be your new obsession. Fair warning: you'll want a blanket, even in summer.
Where King writes horror you can relate to, Barker writes horror you can barely comprehend—and that's the point. The Hellbound Heart (yes, the book Hellraiser is based on) opens doors to dimensions where your darkest desires become literal nightmares. Barker goes places King won't, with imagery so vivid you'll wish you could unsee it. He's not for everyone, but if you've read all of King and want something that pushes further into the darkness, Barker is waiting with open (and possibly bleeding) arms.
King has repeatedly cited Jackson as a major influence, and one chapter of The Haunting of Hill House will show you exactly why. No gore, no monsters jumping out—just pure psychological unraveling as a house slowly claims its inhabitants. Jackson wrote in the 1950s and '60s, but her horror feels timeless because she understood that the scariest place is inside your own head. Start with Hill House, then read "The Lottery" (a short story that will ruin your day in the best way), then thank King for pointing you toward the grandmother of modern psychological horror.
King wrote the introduction to some editions of I Am Legend, calling Matheson "the author who influenced me most." That should tell you everything. Matheson writes clean, efficient prose that makes the horror hit like a punch. I Am Legend gave us the modern vampire/zombie apocalypse. Hell House is a haunted house story that still terrifies. Duel made a truck into a villain. He's the author who taught King (and everyone else) how to make everyday settings absolutely terrifying.
Not strictly horror, but Something Wicked This Way Comes understands childhood fear in ways that directly influenced It. Bradbury writes beautiful, poetic sentences about terrible things—a carnival that grants your deepest wishes at a price you can't afford, autumn nights that smell like death, mirrors that show you what you'll become. He's the author to read when you want that eerie, nostalgic feeling of being young and scared and not quite understanding why. King learned from Bradbury how to make magic feel dangerous.
The Store does for big-box retail what King did for small-town living—makes it absolutely sinister. Little specializes in taking mundane modern life (homeowners associations, department stores, universities) and revealing the nightmare underneath. He's less polished than King but often more disturbing, willing to go to bizarre, uncomfortable places. If you loved the creeping wrongness in Needful Things or the corporate evil in Roadwork, Little will scratch that itch. Just maybe don't read him in public—people will ask why you're looking at Walmart with such horror.
Due writes horror through a lens King sometimes misses—Black American experiences, generational trauma, and cultural history. The Good House combines supernatural terror with family drama in ways that feel both fresh and familiar. My Soul to Keep explores immortality and identity across centuries. She brings perspectives to horror that expand the genre while delivering genuine scares. If you appreciated what King did with race in The Green Mile or The Shining but wanted more depth, Due is essential reading.
A Head Full of Ghosts asks: is this girl possessed by a demon, or is she mentally ill? Tremblay never gives you a clean answer, and that ambiguity is terrifying. He writes literary horror that trusts you to handle complexity. The Cabin at the End of the World delivers that same apocalyptic dread as The Stand but compressed into one impossible choice. If you love King's deeper cuts like Gerald's Game or Dolores Claiborne—the ones that mess with your head more than they jump-scare you—Tremblay is your new favorite author.
Hendrix writes like he grew up reading King in the '80s (he did) and decided horror needed more humor without losing the horror. My Best Friend's Exorcism is Carrie meets Beaches meets actual demonic possession. Horrorstor turns IKEA into a haunted house. He's the author for when you want genuine scares mixed with pop culture references and friendship that feels real. Plus, his book covers are designed to look like '80s paperbacks, which is a nice touch for King fans who remember browsing those spinner racks.
Gaiman writes beautiful nightmares. Coraline is deceptively simple until the button-eyed Other Mother shows up, and then it's the stuff of genuine nightmares. The Graveyard Book makes you care deeply about a boy raised by ghosts before reminding you that not everyone wishes him well. Gaiman is less visceral than King but equally effective at making familiar things feel wrong. He's the author to read when you want that fairy tale darkness King sometimes taps into—the old, mythic kind of scary that predates jump scares.
Campbell is British horror royalty, writing since the 1960s and still making readers uncomfortable today. The Hungry Moon delivers religious horror and small-town darkness that King fans will recognize, but filtered through a distinctly UK sensibility. Campbell builds dread slowly, making ordinary things feel subtly wrong until you realize you're terrified and you're not quite sure when it started. He's more literary than King, more subtle, but no less effective. Think of him as the author you graduate to when you've read everything else on this list twice.
Ready to expand your reading beyond Castle Rock and Derry? These authors understand what makes King special: horror works best when you care about the people being terrorized. They know that the real fear comes from recognizing something true in the fantasy, from caring what happens to characters who feel real, and from that creeping sensation that maybe, just maybe, this could actually happen.
So turn on all the lights, lock the doors, and pick your next sleepless night. Stephen King trained you well—you can handle whatever these authors have waiting in the dark. Probably.
