Published by Samhain Publishing on October 2, 2012
Genres: Extreme Horror, Horror
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The road to forgiveness is covered in blood!
Marshall Deakins has tried to come to terms with the tragic suicide of his young son. But it still tortures him. His search for answers will lead him down a twisted path paved with secrets and grotesque lies. Instead of peace he finds madness, held captive as part of a deranged plan filled with suffering…and blood. As the nature of his captors’ insanity is revealed, Marshall will need to confront the truth about his son and his own past if he hopes to have a future.
This book lulls you in with a quiet, insidious sort of horror then takes a turn down torture lane and I was absolutely not at all prepared (despite being warned).
Honestly, as I was reading I was wondering why so many reviews were making such a big deal out of the gore level. It wasn’t any worse than most horror novels I’ve read and most of the terror came from real life fears. Sure, what happens was heartbreaking and tragic but what wimps these other people must be, thought I, all smug and desensitized. But then, just as I was feeling like nothing would ever bother me again (and wondering if the problem might be me), I was hit with some truly disturbing images and a despair that doesn’t ever let you go. Yep, it’s gross, it’s horribly disturbing and it’s all up in your face. Everything they said before me? It’s true.
I’m not going to ruin the plot mainly because I’m just too lazy. I’ll just say it’s about love, family, grief and all of the ugly emotions that’ll tear you apart. And then throw in a madman or two and some flesh eating piggies and a giant Mason jar that’ll give you nightmares.
This was a rough read, I cannot lie, and it took me weeks to finish. Not because the writing was awful (it wasn’t) or because the character were jerks (the innocents were not) but because it was so incredibly bleak. I think I’m the one getting whimpy because I had to take breaks even before the atrocities and body horror smacked me in the face. There’s only so much despair one can take in a sitting . . .
This was the epitome of life: graceless torture.