It’s 1982 and Jackie O’Connor’s life is admirably simple. Jackie lives with his dog Ruby in a house in the woods near the Miramichi River in North Esk, New Brunswick. Because he doesn’t drive, he commutes to his job at the local sawmill in his canoe, taking Ruby with him. His best friends, Boyd and Donny, work with him at the sawmill, and the three of them like nothing better than getting together at Jackie’s place, cracking open a few beers and watching Montreal Expos games. Jackie doesn’t mind hard work, and he has a reliable moral compass that never steers him wrong. The only activity he’s involved in that carries even the slightest whiff of something illicit is making deliveries for his friend Mike, who runs a bootlegging operation, and he’s only doing that because Mike suffers from muscular dystrophy and is confined to a wheelchair. But the simplicity of Jackie’s life is only surface deep. He’s dealing with a tragic loss. His wife Gen was recently killed in a car accident, and his instincts in the wake of the incident told him to retreat and get back to basics. But more trouble awaits. Jackie’s friend Donny is married to Claire, Jackie’s cousin. Donny is a sad case—unambitious, immature, a boozer—and Claire, though she still loves him, can’t take it anymore and has walked away from the marriage. Shortly after Claire leaves him, Donny reveals a secret to Jackie: he’s carrying around a winning lottery ticket worth half a million dollars. Does he tell Claire, or not? Jackie has no advice and wants nothing to do with the entire business, though it’s obvious that eventually Claire will find out one way or another. But shit happens, and Jackie’s disavowal of the money does not save him from a situation that grows messier day by day and slowly creeps toward a violent and bloody dénouement. Shawn Lawlor’s debut novel places a good man in grave danger through no fault of his own. If Jackie O’Connor has a fault, it is a trusting nature that leads him to believe that people are always striving to do the right thing, and it’s this belief that lands him in hot water. Lawlor writes in a rough-hewn vernacular that effectively evokes early 1980s New Brunswick, and he makes the most of the Miramichi setting by building tension through descriptions of an eerie and oftentimes threatening natural world. But though its action is limited to a specific time and place, Boom Road will appeal to readers everywhere because it succeeds as entertainment while plumbing the murkiest depths of human nature to tell an ageless tale of depravity and redemption.