Guilty Pleasures. Yes, that's where I categorize this thriller. When one reads (or views) a work of fiction there is a need to engage in some level of 'suspension of disbelief'. It is not usually required to use as much of this suspension as, say, required when listening to a politician's promises, but with various authors usually a little or a lot is needed to keep one from throwing the book back toward the shelf or walking out of the theater. Joseph Flynn's Digger requires a rather high level of suspension of disbelief to keep the pages turning. A trio of Vietnam vet "Tunnel Rats" have created a warren of tunnels beneath a quiet and contented little town in central Illinois and happily play 'Joe vs Charlie' games to pass the time. But trouble is brewing in the town above in the form of a union walkout from a manufacturing plant owned by a former gangster's protÃ©gÃ© with dreams of owning the entire town--no matter what it takes. Not much suspension of disbelief needed yet, right? Well, maybe a little as we learn of the construction of the town's landmark marble church âfrom scratch, without blueprintsâ and that one of the Tunnel Rats who prefers to live below ground most of the time is the actual owner of not only the church but one of the finest homes in the town. Or that Our Hero is able to stay alive in spite of putting his camera in the face of charging lions and shooting gangsters because he is watched over and occasionally warned by the spirits of his dead grandfather and others. But trust me the parameters will soon be stretched to a greater degree as opposing forces begin to clash, and those opposing forces grow both in number and off-the-wall insanity with each successive chapter. Still, the pages somehow keep getting turned, all the way to the catastrophic climax. In other words, even though Flynn takes great liberties with one's willingness and ability to suspend that disbelief, he's managed to create characters and situations that beg for âjust one more page'. As I say, âguilty pleasures'.