Eric Larocca, the only modern horror writer I'm aware of whose name doubles as a trigger warning, has done the unthinkable, he's written something more viscerally upsetting than his debut Things Have Gotten Worse Since We Last Spoke.

In At Dark I Become Loathsome our main character Ashley Lutin, (a glaring reminder that protagonist and hero are two very different literary concepts) buries people alive temporarily to give them a new outlook on life. This starting point, though it is disturbing in concept and portrayal, is the least offensive thing in this book. Readers who make it through this novel will look back with fond nostalgia on the opening of the book when they thought live internments would be the most shocking thing committed to paper here. As more of Ahley's life story is uncovered we find that this nocturnal activities stem from the loss of his wife and his increasingly futile search for his young missing son. This personal tragedy is intertwined with Lutin's feverish fascination with the darkest examples of human immortality and leads him down a twisted path that might just offer some answers about his missing kid but will certainly damage him even further in the process.

While I've previously praised Larocca's shorter fiction, this more traditional (at least in length) shows the author in fine form. He showcases once again his uncanny ability to mingle extremely disturbing content with compulsively readable prose, proving yet again that his skills as a writer extended beyond mere shock value.

This aptly titled work certainly makes one feel something approaching loathsome while also managing to tell a compelling story that begs to be read to the finish.