Gord Rollo adds his own piece to the jumbled puzzle of modern horror with THE JIGSAW MAN, his debut novel. In it, Michael Fox (no middle initial of J, mind you) is a man whose life is in shambles after losing his wife and son in an auto accident, and he wants to end it all. The Sterno-swilling homeless man is ready to off himself when a total stranger approaches and offers him $2 million.

There’s a catch, of course: The stranger wants his right arm in exchange, but it’s a piece for which our fresh-out-of-luck hero is all too willing to go out on a limb. Along with three similar beaten souls, Michael is taken to the estate of Dr. Marshall, who’s pioneering research into body-part transplantation, primarily because his son was born hideously deformed — a Thalidomide baby, he says. It’s a noble pursuit … if he weren’t fibbing.

The title gives away the doc’s true motive, but his mad, mad, mad, mad objective wouldn’t come as a surprise under any name, really. Yet it’s the ride there that’s the point, and Rollo has fun sending Michael sneaking about Marshall’s grounds, peering into secret rooms and witnessing things he’s not supposed to see, in scenes that recall everything from COMA to RE-ANIMATOR.

Things get really bad for Michael — so respect dutifully given to Rollo for not wimping out — but once the title character comes into play, JIGSAW is at its most rote. It’s the chase that gives the goods, not the end result. That said, the final scene is powerful in its sadness and futility, right down to the very last line. To be so bleak these days is brave; to pull it off without leaving the reader feeling the same is an accomplishment in itself. —Rod Lott

Buy it at Amazon.

“The sick pervert was rubbing his throbbing cock on the side of the glass tank, slowly working it up closer and closer to the head above. The defenseless man’s eyes were wide open in fear, his entire head and spine thrashing about in a futile attempt to get away. … Drake crawled right up onto the table, and was trying to put his engorged dick into the disembodied man’s tightly closed mouth, who was resisting the only way he could. ‘Open up sweetie, or you lose one of your eyes,’ Drake whispered, his voice dripping with lust.”