"On a relentless Los Angeles summer day, a man walks barefoot over broken glass and melting tarmac to meet his connection, praying his line of credit will be extended to one more balloon of heroin. He’s alone, penniless, wrecked by violent withdrawals, and last night he robbed a crack dealer before abandoning his apartment."

I thought I'd already chalked up my most disturbing read for 2006, but no. As soon as I open my big mouth, I'm proven wrong. This is a pocket-sized edition of Hell, condensed into 219 pages.

I've never had the pleasure of reading pulp fiction, so I really didn't know what to expect. Tony O'Neill's LA-based debut novel is as close to being in a car accident as you can get -- all you can do is brace yourself and hope the airbags work. Told through an anonymous narrator and rooted in O'Neill's experience as an addict, the reader is taken through various shades of moral grayscale mixed with every drug imaginable until it hits the black rock bottom of addiction.

Judging from my personal observations in wilder days, it reads authentic. It's raw in its language and emotion. On more than one occasion, I had to squeeze my eyes shut because I just knew something really bad was about to happen but couldn't do anything except stand by in a reader's silence. To grab that kind of emotion from such a jaded person as myself...well, it's saying a lot about the author's skill.

I do believe there is one minor failing: the cover should carry some kind of a warning label. Digging the Vein is addictive. It's also not for the faint of heart. It's not some made-up bullshit memoir, and it's definitely not written for vapid reading clubs looking for a vicarious walk on the wild side.

But if you want a hard dose of reality? Pick this one up. The author is well worth a few hours of your time, and more than delivers on that promise.

Publisher: Contemporary Press
ISBN: 0976657910