So… this one was definitely an experience. The atmosphere is moody, the creepiness is there, and some of the imagery is wild enough to stick with me for a while (faceless figures on Christmas morning? Yikes). But honestly, it also felt messy, like the shock value was doing more of the heavy lifting than the actual story. I kept waiting for it all to click into place, and it just… didn’t.

That being said, I get the sense it’s setting the stage for bigger things, and horror fans who love the more extreme, splatter-y side of the genre will probably vibe with it way more than I did. For me, it was equal parts intriguing and frustrating, with flashes of brilliance buried under too much chaos.

Thanks to NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for my honest opinion!

So basically this is a story about a creepy AF town where horrible things keep happening. Amidst the most recent tragedy, the townsfolk take it upon themselves to torture the persons responsible. But there is something very strange about these people (am I referring to the alleged killers or the townspeople? - you’ll have to determine that for yourself).

This was my first Eric LaRocca and I’m not sure they’re an author for me. Or maybe this just wasn’t my favorite kind of horror. There are stories within stories and sometimes it was hard to know if they were important to the main storyline or not. Definitely check trigger warnings before reading. Lots of disturbing shit happens within these pages.

I’m not a horror reader, but I enjoy reading it from time to time. When I read «We Are Always Tender with Our Dead» I thought it would be my cup of tea. From the long trigger warning list at the beginning of the book, I knew it would be a challenge to get into the story, although I kept my expectations high. That was until I started reading and couldn’t find (almost) anything appealing thing to me.

I’ll start by saying what I liked: the mysteries surrounding Burnt Sparrow. I wish everything was explained more in detail, but I understand that being the first in a series there will be lots of things to be revealed later. I enjoyed the black bird, the thresholds, the massacre and the faceless family plots, they were the only things that got me engaged.

On the other side, I hated how explicit and sexual it was. I don’t usually care about the sex content in a book, as long as it has meaning and it’s not just for the sake of including it. In this case, everything related with sex was disgusting. Necrophilia and rape were mentioned too many times, and let’s not forget about incest, sadomasochism and torture. I hated everything about it because it looked like the author wanted nothing but provoke the reader with no real intent behind.

The characters felt off too. I didn’t care about Rupert, his father or anyone at all. Everyone was lacking humanity and it’s one of those things that I think could give the book the depth it required. On top of that, the way the story was told —a few POVs, newspapers, reports…— didn’t help the reader getting into the story. I think it was too eclectic to make sense at the end.

In conclusion, I won’t be reading the next part because I don’t think I can handle it, so I’ll always ignore what are the secrets that Burnt Sparrow keep.

This book was a compelling and enjoyable read from start to finish. The writing was engaging, the pacing kept me hooked, and the characters felt authentic and well-developed. It struck a strong emotional chord and left a lasting impression. Highly recommend to anyone looking for something thoughtful and impactful.

This book was a tough read. I hadn’t read LaRocca’s work previously, but having read the premise I was looking forward to checking it out. I really struggled with the pacing of this book. There were fast paced moments that gripped me completely, but the book then slowed to a crawl come the next page. The triggers in this one are heavy so I would recommend this to readers, but only those who have very specific reading interests. There is certainly an audience for this book, I’m just not sure it’s me! Thank you for a copy and for the opportunity to try this author’s work.

Thank you to the publisher and NetGalley for this ARC. I have read and loved LaRoccas work in the past. This one was slow at times, though seemed to be set up for a fast paced thriller. Centered around a tragic massacre in a small town, there could have been so much more to this story. I still would recommend for LaRocca readers.

Thank you so much to @titanbooks and @eric_larocca for the #gifted copy! I am so grateful!!

My thoughts:
Eric LaRocca crafts horror that unsettles you on a deeper, emotional level. It’s what captivated me in the first book I read from him: Things Have Gotten Worse Since We Last Spoke. I’m still not over that one. Burnt Sparrow consumed me the same way. From the first pages, the atmosphere is heavy and oppressive—a town haunted not just by shadows, but by grief, cruelty, and buried secrets that is quite palpable. LaRocca’s writing is lyrical yet steady, blending beauty with pain and brutality in a way that makes the darkness feel both intimate and terrifying. I never knew those feelings could co-exist with each other the way they do in this story.

Be forewarned: This is NOT a light read—it’s raw, intense, and often uncomfortable—but that’s where its power lies!

If you crave horror that lasts long after the last page, Burnt Sparrow delivers: devastating, unforgettable, and impossible to shake.

I cannot wait for Book Two!

My rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️💫(4.5)


✴️Please check TW before reading✴️

In the town of Burnt Sparrow, a brutal massacre occurs, and the residents seek vengeance from the perpetrators.
This was not a book for me. In fact I actively disliked it. Clearly this was meant to elicit a reaction from the reader, however it just seemed to be as many unpleasant things crammed in as possible, that didn't really serve the plot or make much sense.
I understand this is part of a trilogy, however things are mentioned at the beginning of the book that are never touched on again, and characters' actions often make no sense. Also, why are the townsfolk allowed to dispense their own justice? Why is there no media coverage or involvement from authorities outside the area? I feel like so much is just hand waved away.
The writing did not flow in a nice way either, it felt jarring, and the dialogue didn't feel natural.
Unfortunately I found little to appreciate in this book.

As an avid fan of LaRocca, this one fell flat, yet still mesmerised me somehow that I couldn’t stop reading. The first in a series, its small town bizarreness left many questions about why the townsfolk operated in certain ways. The book was as much about grief as it was about a coming of age story, and sexual identity. As usual with this authors texts, it felt transgressive, and targeted for certain audiences that I couldn't relate to personally. I think for the most part, I was left shocked or disgusted and perhaps that was the point. But I just didn’t see the point in much of the plot, or in many characters behaviours. It was frustrating that each character felt hypocritical and I was angered by their inconsistency. Mrs. Estherwood for example behaves so contradictory, that after witnessing a disturbing rape scene and being a victim herself, she continues to obsessively engage in sexual activities with her lover as if no trauma occurred. Much of this just didn’t seem realistic, but then maybe each character is a symbol of human contradiction, of grief twisted, where some characters seem as much victim as abuser, for a lack of healthy environment in this broken town, I don’t think I could say I “enjoyed” this story. I think I was disappointed and angered by its seemingly forced surreal poeticisms and pointless shock factors, The subtle and seamlessly weaved transgressions from previous reads seemed to be replaced by empty callousness. 2.5 stars for mixed emotions.

Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for this advanced readers copy.

A mass tragedy on Christmas day. A faceless family. A father and son who have a relationship only held together by blood. A bird with a human face. An eccentric local who opens his house in some way to all of them.

This was a unique story. I enjoyed things pre-End House before everything got weird. This was well written, just not my speed, not what I look for in a story. Unfortunately, after three books, I feel LaRocca may not be the author for me. Which is absolutely fine. He has his fan base, and I'm glad that he found his audience. They can't all be hits for everybody.

This one is available now!

2.5 stars ⭐️

unfortunately this didn’t really work for me. there were definitely elements that i liked and i honestly wish there was more of those moments. i loved the idea of the thresholds, the faceless family and all the unexplained things that were going on in the town.

but there were also moments that genuinely left me completely shocked because i was not expecting it. the book somehow manages to follow a 🍇 scene with necrophilia. what? there was so incest and torture and wow this was not what i was expecting from this book at all.

rupert is also a little freak and idk it was really hard to care about anyone in this book besides wanting to understand why this town is so plagued by these haunting occurrences.

thankfully i had the audiobook to help get me through the entire book so shoutout to Tristan Wright for getting me through it.

Eric LaRocca is not a talented writer. They can often hide it in their short stories and novellas with sensational gore and shock value, but it's very evident in their long-form work. Rupert's "personality" is entirely comprised of three things: a dead mother, being gay (or, as he insists on putting it in the bizarre, stilted way everything in this novel is phrased, "being attracted to the same sex"), and a desire to leave Burnt Sparrow. That is all he thinks or talks about, displaying a jarring and unrealistic lack of curiosity or disturbance over the bizarre and upsetting things happening around him. When the massacre first occurred and the town's reaction seemed to be lukewarm at best, especially given the decision to maintain and guard the bodies where they lay, I expected some kind of explanation for how this occurrence was normal in their town or SOME kind of reasoning for why they were all so infuriatingly blase about a fucked up situation. Nope. I also couldn't figure out what time period this was supposed to be set in -- the dated entries are all from the 2000s but the speech patterns fluctuate between pseudo-colonial and mid-century flatness. I don't expect an explanation for weirdness in horror, and in fact I prefer not to have one, but there does need to be some justification or reason for its presence and existence.

Eric LaRocca’s writing is honestly mesmerizing how they can write so beautifully but also so terrifying at the same time. They have a wonderful understanding of what makes humans both wonderful and terrifying. On top of this they can expertly weave in supernatural and paranormal elements that fit so perfectly it is almost impossible to consider these things aren’t real.

I loved how unsettling and creepy this felt. You could almost feel the oppression and horror as you are reading as if you are in the town alongside them. I adored the small town feel and the atmospheric and oppressive feel. This is one you cannot afford to miss if you love LaRocca or small town horror with a true chilling feel.

As always thank you to the publisher for the advanced copy to review, my reviews are always honest and freely given.

Alexa play Ethel Cain. This book was both horrific and beautifully written. I am always floored by Eric LaRoccas imagery and writing style, and this is such a work of art as you can feel all of the trauma and pain the people in this town are going through. I'm excited to see where the story continues in the sequel and maybe see our characters fall further into their despair. Solid book, and I would highly recommend checking content warnings as their are graphic depictions of some pretty disturbing things.

I have read a good amount of LaRocca’s books to know that I would be completely devastated. This book left me feeling chills and completely uneasy. LaRocca’s writing is beautiful with the most absolutely soul crushing, gut wrenching details. As usual I had to take breaks while listening to it, the cruelty of the characters was sometimes too much to hear. But I also wanted to keep learning more about this twisted story. I am looking forward to book two, I want to know more about this town and the horrors and the creepy elders.

Thank you to Titan for a physical copy of the arc. And Dreamscape Media for a copy of the audiobook.

LaRocca has a way of blending beautiful writing with the most disturbing imagery you've ever read. This one follows a cast of unlikeable characters doing grotesque things, and I couldn't put it down. The residents of Burnt Sparrow are ones that will stick with me for a long time.

This book was disturbing and not in a good way. I feel like if grimdark had an incestuous love affair with the dictionary definition of abuse, this book would be the result.

I was interested in the queer themes and I don't mind some darkness in my books. At the same time, I don't feel like we get enough contrast to really appreciate just how dark every page of this book is.
So many mysteries get set up at the beginning but I didn't find the slow progress through them satisfying.
The writing itself had its good points but I personally found it a little too heavy on exposition.


Thank you to Titan Books and NetGalley for the eARC!

Eric LaRocca’s We Are Always Tender With Our Dead is a haunting and unforgettable descent into communal grief, intimate brutality, and the grotesque beauty of survival. Set in the remote and wintry town of Burnt Sparrow, New Hampshire, the novel begins with an act of inexplicable violence: the arrival of three faceless figures on Christmas morning who unleash terror and leave an unhealable scar on the town’s soul. From this chilling premise, LaRocca crafts something far deeper and more affecting than a standard horror novel—this is a meditation on loss, cruelty, and the unbearable weight of unresolved pain.

The emotional core of the story centers on Rupert Cromwell, a teenage boy forced to navigate the wreckage not only of his town but of his own fractured family. Rupert’s coming-of-age is steeped in psychological horror, rendered with such aching vulnerability that it’s impossible not to be moved by his journey. LaRocca does not flinch in exploring the complexities of familial trauma, toxic masculinity, and repressed identity, all while steeping the reader in a relentlessly bleak, snow-covered atmosphere that feels as alive and haunted as any character in the book.

LaRocca’s prose is, as ever, searing and lyrical—each sentence meticulously composed yet emotionally raw. There is a poetic rhythm to the horror, a strange beauty even in the violence, and an eerie tenderness threaded through every act of cruelty. Few writers working in horror today wield language with such a precise and devastating hand.

What makes We Are Always Tender With Our Dead especially powerful is its refusal to offer easy answers or catharsis. Vengeance here is a mirage. The wounds inflicted—both literal and emotional—fester. The town’s attempt to regain a sense of normalcy only exposes how thin the veil of civilization really is. As relationships fracture and violence spreads like contagion, LaRocca reminds us that trauma does not end with the act—it echoes, mutates, and infects.

This is not a story for the faint of heart. But for readers willing to confront the darkest parts of human experience, LaRocca offers a harrowing yet profoundly moving tale that lingers long after the final page. We Are Always Tender With Our Dead is a brutal elegy for innocence lost and a masterclass in modern horror writing.

Get ready LaRocca fans! He’s done it again… and this time it really hurts.

We Are Always Tender With Our Dead is the first in a trilogy that is 100% visceral, literary horror. It’s set in Burnt Sparrow, New Hampshire and opens on a shocking violent Christmas morning that forever changes the lives of the town residents. What follows is a creeping presence of something beyond human comprehension.

From the first page, LaRocca’s writing is lyrical yet brutal. The characters feel raw and real. This isn’t a story that offers easy answers; it’s one that lingers in both atmosphere and message.

I freakin’ loved the intensity of the opening, the devastating character work, and the way Burnt Sparrow already feels like a living, breathing place. If this installment is any indication, the rest of this trilogy is going to be unforgettable. I’m so glad I got an early glimpse! I’m already counting the days until book two.

We Are Always Tender With Our Dead is strange, intense, and exactly the kind of heavy story I expect from LaRocca. When I reach for one of his novels, I am not looking for something easy and I know I am not going to find a light read. What I want is something that leaves a mark, and that is exactly what this gave me.

LaRocca’s prose is as beautiful as it is brutal. He has this rare ability to write about things that are deeply unsettling, even grotesque, and yet do it in a way that feels lyrical. This story is dripping with grief. You feel it radiating from the father and you feel it in Rupert, the boy at the center of it all. The atmosphere is suffocating and intimate, like you are right there in the room with these characters while everything around them is falling apart.

This is horror stripped down to its rawest form. Grief, cruelty, and the grotesque collide in a way that is hard to shake. It is not an easy book to sit with. There are all the trigger warnings you could imagine but that is part of what makes LaRocca’s work so effective. He does not just hand you horror for shock value. He makes you live in it, breathe in it, and think about what it is saying about grief, cruelty, and the darker parts of the human condition.

The structure adds to that heaviness, with diary entries, news reports, and online posts breaking up the narrative. It gives a sense of how the town functions, the cracks beneath the surface, and how Rupert fits into it all. He is flawed, grieving, and complicated, which makes him feel real. His perspective keeps the story grounded and makes the horror hit in a personal way.

I also could not help but picture how well this story would translate visually. In its own way, it reminded me a little of Over the Garden Wall, not in tone since this is far darker, but in that sense of a haunting, folkloric small-town world where beauty and horror exist side by side. I could imagine it as a graphic novel or an animated series and it would be absolutely stunning!

LaRocca has once again delivered a story that is not easy but it is not meant to be. It is heavy, bleak, gruesome, and devastatingly beautiful. It is exactly what I hope for when I open one of his books.

I can't wait to read book #2!