Bonespin Slipspace begins on a rollercoaster, a father inching a hand up his fearful son’s thigh, raising expectations and heightening senses toward a cringe factor… The meat of the story really begins under a grunge tinted light as a pair of friends navigate a sex-laden path of horny goths and cemetery plots to wind up meeting an old friend/boyfriend at the door of a manor. Initially it feels like it's about to be a slice of everyday erotic literature and then a door handle twists and those offering party favors within Blackburn’s mansion reveal ever-furthering carnal exploration where blood seeps, ejaculate spurts and hearts stop.
I’ve never read anything quite like this. The plot itself doesn’t demand much headspace, but the depravity and the landscapes are proof of a developed and nurtured imagination. This is an endearing thrill ride full of suspense and disgust and all the chaos conjured when oddity, horror and fantasy bump uglies while the rubbers hang out in the nightstand.
I was roundly impressed by this story on the whole. Leo X. Robertson casts aside most of the aspects I value most in stories, drove aside logic and pushed for excess. Somehow, it worked and did so with a delivery to be admired. For those who are not squeamish, and for those who love to squirm in revolt, Bonespin Slipcase is ticket to ride on a coaster of salacious deeds aplenty.