This was sort of a trip down the memory lane kind of read. There was a time when such books constituted a bulk of my reading and Waggoner was an author I liked. Well, boy did my reading tastes change. Matured, I’d like to believe. Because now I can’t even find any redeeming value in this. I did try. And it isn’t that Waggoner is a terrible writer, in fact he has interesting, original ideas and, when he puts his mind to it, can do some very nice character development, albeit only to kill them off in horrid ways. It’s just that here he made a choice to dedicate the overwhelming majority of the story to guts, gore, sex and find strikingly bloody disgusting ways of going about all of it. It is much too over the top for an average B feature, it’s practically grotesque. And yes, I understand the genre and its requirements, but this is neither scary nor atmospheric, it’s just gross and vulgar, In fact the grossness and vulgarity overwhelmed the plot so much so that by the time the explanations roll around, it almost seems to be like an afterthought. And for some reason, while the author takes his time with minor players, the major ones range so thoroughly from dislikable to repellant, it’s difficult to care about the sh*tstorm they are wading through one way or another. So it was either disgusting or laughable, at times both, so far from literary, it would have to send smoke signals to be acknowledged and, although objectively imaginative, not imaginative in a way one might want. Then again, it might be exactly what someone would want. It’s that sort of genre. So personal mileage might vary. But for me it went nowhere. A disappointing read, albeit a fascinating reminder of changing tastes, likes and preferences. Thanks Netgalley.