I read an eARC of this book on NetGalley so thank you to the author and the publisher.

The author provides extensive content warnings at the start of this book and you really should consider them. This book covers some extremely disturbing and challenging content. Having an author led warning affected me in two ways. On one hand, it tempered some of the horror (to a point and not in a bad way), because I was anticipating it. However that anticipation also made me more tense because I was expecting such horrible things to happen in the book! Making me feel more on edge. Quite a strange conflict. However there was a point in the book at which no warning was going to prepare me for the extreme discomfort I felt reading these passages.

This is a searing look at the horrors humans are capable of and how they justify them to themselves. This town suffers a particular intensity of tragedy and misery and there are some extremely disturbing events. Read this if you want to push the boundaries of your comfort with horror. I was disturbed, but I did understand that this was exactly the author’s intention and this book is commentary on humanity.

A gripping, upsetting and deeply uncomfortable read that does exactly what it sets out to do.

Burnt Sparrow is a town of isolation and horrific tragedy, with townspeople ruled by their elders and subjected to cruel punishments and strange occurrences. Rupert Cromwell, a teenager living with his widowed father, is no stranger to life's struggles when a faceless family brings violence to the town one Christmas morning. The aftermath including the way the elders handle the tragedy is deeply unsettling, and ultimately Rupert is forced to live with a local family housing the faceless family as prisoners. This horror read is disturbing and atmospheric, and LaRocca's writing and the town of Burnt Sparrow will stay with you long after you finish this first installment.

Compelling, couldn't put it down. Burnt sparrow is a town that I need to know more about. Fully seated for book 2

I requested and received an eARC of We Are Always Tender with Our Dead by Eric LaRocca via NetGalley. The residents of the isolated town of Burnt Sparrow, New Hampshire are forever altered when three faceless individuals arrive on Christmas morning and commit an act of terror that cannot be erased. While the townspeople grieve their losses and seek justice for the tragedy, a teenage boy named Ruper Cromwell is forced to confront the painful reality of his family situation and the history that has brought them to the present moment.

To lay all my cards on the table, I am not a regular reader of the horror genre. Before I was acclimated to the world of Burnt Sparrow (if that can ever truly be accomplished) I kept on looking away from this book and whispering what the fuck to myself. The image of the faceless family was very disturbing, but perhaps more pitiable than anything. By the end of the novel, I wasn’t quite sure what to believe. The descriptions of corpses and the crimes committed against them were equally displeasing. There were several instances of sexual assault in the book, which the author acknowledges in the content warning, so I would absolutely avoid this book if that is a topic that is triggering.

I couldn’t quite make up my mind about Rupert Cromwell or the direction he was taking. I also wish that I had a bit more understanding of Gladys. In fact, I wish I understood more about the story in general. While there certainly is a plot much of this book felt like one moment of violent cruelty after another. It’s very atmospheric and I think LaRocca should be commended for their ability to produce such gloom and such deplorable characters. To be honest, We Are Always Tender with Our Dead was a bit extreme for my taste, but will I be reading the second book? Absolutely, because as horrifying as some of the elements of the story were, I have to know what the fuck is going on with the town of Burnt Sparrow and the bizarre people who live there.

Thank you to NetGalley and Titan Books for this ARC!

“We Are Always Tender with Our Dead” is the first book in Eric LaRocca’s new trilogy “Burnt Sparrow”, centered around the odd little town of Burnt Sparrow in New Hampshire. In this book we follow the events that are set into motion after a faceless family of three commits an act of violence in this town on Christmas morning. This book is mostly told from the perspective of one of the town’s residents, the teenage son of a widower, Rupert Cromwell.

From the very beginning of the book, the atmosphere of the town LaRocca describes in this book is extremely off-putting, which I mean positively. It doesn’t seem too abnormal at first, but throughout the book the layers are peeled back and it starts to feel even more forbidding, like you shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be seeing this story.

The plot of this book is really difficult to describe. The events that happen often seem to make little sense, based on an outsider’s perspective, and you are left constantly feeling like you’re missing a piece of the puzzle. Since this is the first book in a trilogy I’m not going to hold it against this book, because for me personally the questions I am left with have me feeling desperate to get my hands on book two, to understand this town and its inhabitants better.

A lot of bad shit happens in this book. Like, a lot. A list of trigger warnings is given, I am assuming it will remain there in the finished version, and this is not one that should be ignored, if you are so inclined. However, if you’ve read extreme horror before none of the things here will be too much of a surprise to you, and while I admittedly have a strong stomach, I think most people who have read LaRocca’s other work won't be too shocked by anything here.

I’ve read many of LaRocca’s works now and they will always be an auto-buy author for me, but I must admit that his writing style is still something I am critical of. It is very simplistic, but then also tries to incorporate language that is more flowery, in a way that comes across a little unrefined. If you are the type of person who loves splatterpunk and gross, gore-y horror, this style will be perfect for you, but if you tend to prefer literary horror I would say to manage your expectations.

Overall I would say to give this book a shot if you like extreme horror and stories about weird little towns, and if you have liked LaRocca’s other work you will certainly have a good time with this one as well.

After having read different collections of short stories from Eric LaRocca I was interested to read a full-length novel from him. However, I ended up feeling like I was still reading a collection of short stories instead of the novel it’s billed as being. In the beginning I was intrigued by the main character Rupert and seeing how he and the other townspeople were reacting to the massive act of violence that had occurred. But as it went on I started to lose interest and feel like I couldn’t see the point of so much of what was happening.

This is definitely gruesome, transgressive horror and truly heinous things occur within the story. But sometimes it just seemed like it was for shock value instead of being more fully explored. I think I could’ve “enjoyed” the book more if it was more squarely focused on Rupert instead of having so many times that veer off into a story within a story, someone’s journal, or any of the other various articles or transcripts that come up within the book.

While I did find some parts of the book really compelling, all of the aspects that confused me or felt like they were taking away from Rupert’s narrative overshadowed my reading experience.

Small-town horror with teeth, blood, and a pulse you can’t shake.

We Are Always Tender with Our Dead is a gorgeously grotesque descent into grief, guilt, and the grim price of survival—and as a longtime fan of Eric LaRocca, I can confidently say: he’s never held the knife steadier, or plunged it deeper. This is literary horror at its most visceral, a bleak, beautifully written scream that echoes long after the final page.

Set in a snow-covered New Hampshire town that’s been gutted—literally and emotionally—by an unprovoked act of cosmic brutality, this first installment in LaRocca’s new trilogy is Blackwater by way of Clive Barker, with that signature LaRocca flair for body horror, queer anguish, and moral rot that blooms like mold beneath wallpaper. If you know, you know.

This tale like walking through a blizzard of ash: disorienting, cold, and unrelentingly haunting. But if you’re a fan of LaRocca’s particular brand of elegant dread, this is everything you crave and more. It’s an invocation, an elegy, a warning—and I can’t wait to see what fresh hell the next book brings.

If I was given a chapter of We Are Always Tender with Our Dead without knowing the author and was asked if I could identify them, I would say Eric LaRocca.

The first installation of the Burnt Sparrow trilogy has so many of LaRocca's signature stamps all over it — and I say that in the best way possible, as a longtime fan of their work. I particularly loved the nested stories and mixed media, elements I search for in nearly every book I read now after LaRocca first got me hooked on their power in Things Have Gotten Worse Since We Last Spoke and many of his other works.

We Are Always Tender with Our Dead is gritty, depraved, transgressive queer horror. As with much of LaRocca's writing, it gives a hard push on the boundaries of the depth of violence and brutality you thought you knew, and asks you to confront your own deviance and perversion.

I'm thrilled this is a trilogy, as I can't wait to see what else Burnt Sparrow has in store for us. LaRocca masterfully makes the setting of We Are Always Tender with Our Dead a character in its own right, a living, breathing network of corruption and iniquity. Can't wait for the next one.

I got to the end of this book with still no idea what the point was. There were quite a few ideas introduced that seemed promising but everything kind of petered out without any explanation or resolution. I understand that this is the first in a series, so perhaps the future books are planned to be more satisfying, but I will not be reading any more and thus will have to be content with having absolutely no clue why anything in this story was included. The cult-like elders, the corpses that were just left in the city streets, the faceless people, the human-faced bird, things mysteriously turning to ash, and all of the short stories/news articles that were sprinkled throughout, absolutely nothing had been connected, explained, or otherwise fit together by the end of the book. Additionally, the description and cover seemed to imply a more folk-horror vibe, but I felt like it was more verging on surreal extreme horror, especially with all of the bizarre violence that felt like it was only included for the sake of shock value.

I’ve read a couple other of LaRocca’s works, but only their novellas and short stories. I haven’t particularly enjoyed those, but I had hoped that a full length novel would change my mind since they seem to be loved by lots of horror readers. Unfortunately this was another miss in my opinion, and I think it’s time to accept that this author is not for me.

When i seen this book was similar to the works of Clive Barker I was sold. I tried with this novel and made it more than half way however I didn't finish it. I think it wasn't for me which surprised me as I do enjoy reading books with this kind of horror.

2.5/5 As someone who is typically a fan of horror stories, I read the synopsis of this book and thought it was right up my alley, but I was wrong. This book disturbed me in a way that not many books can. I don’t think I saw any content warnings prior to starting to read the book, and i wish I would have.

The mysteries surrounding the town and the inciting incident drew me into the book, but I just couldn’t handle the graphic nature of the book. I also felt like it left too many questions unanswered when I finished, and I don’t think I could make it through another story like this to find out what happens next.

While well written. this book is definitely not for the faint of heart.

Unfortunately I was late to the party with LaRocca's work, starting with an eARC of At Dark, I Become Loathsome. I finished it and ordered a signed copy of it for release, I loved it so much. At Dark was raw, emotional, and so deeply messy, in a way I really desire from queer horror. I hadn't thought I'd find another book I could see myself or my life in as well as At Dark, but LaRocca has done it again.

Rupert is a 17 year old boy living with his grieving and ... unstable... father, his mother having passed some time before the book takes place. After a tragedy on Christmas day, he and his father take up jobs looking after the results of a massacre by a family of three with no faces. The extremely strange and uncomfortable dynamic gets worse as the days pass, and their paths eventually cross with Mr. and Mrs. Esherwood, who's relationship is strained and marred by Mr. Esherwood's desire for control.

As with LaRocca's other works, We Are Always Tender is transgressive, gory, and painful. As a deeply queer and flawed transgender + gay man, reading LaRocca's work feels like I've been opened up and laid bare, as though he's in my mind and exposing all of my deepest and hidden musings. Grief, being a failure at masculinity, pain, abuse, what we mistake for love, the shelter we can't find, we will never be the same, we can never leave. LaRocca is in my chest cavity, making a mess.

A line in LaRocca's statement before chapter one reads, "It's certainly not a book that can (or even should) be enjoyed."

Did I enjoy it? The 8-ball says, "Better not tell you now."

I can't wait for book two.

A great thanks to NetGalley and Titan books for this eARC in exchange for my honest review.

The lives of the residents in Burnt Sparrow are forever altered when three faceless entities arrive at Christmas and perform a brutal act of violence. Rather than burying the bodies, the townspeople decide to leave them where they are and have them guarded around the clock. Rupert Cromwell, a 17 year old boy, is appointed a guard along with his father, and during this time, he has to confront the realities of his family situation and grapple with his feelings of not belonging.

Before you read this, you should read the trigger warnings as the list is long, and this deals with some heavy topics, some of which are deeply upsetting and unsettling.

At this point, Eric Larocca could publish a shopping list, and I'd be first in line to read it. Is it wrong to say I enjoyed this considering some of the subject matter? Probably. But I really couldn't put this down I was hooked from the first page and I'm already anticipating the sequels. Eric has a way of writing horror that sticks with you several of his books i think about regularly. This was written so well and i feel like the further i travelled into the story the more claustrophobic and unsettling the story became. I liked Rupert as a character seeing how he dealt with everything life threw at him and coming to terms with who he was as a person. This was dark and horrifying and shocking and won't be for everyone but I highly recommend it to anyone who does enjoy a more extreme horror.

Thank you to Titan Press for providing this ARC for review consideration via NetGalley. All opinions are my own.

We Are Always Tender with Our Dead by Eric LaRocca is an intense and uncanny horror title. The town of Burnt Sparrow, NH experiences a mass murder at thanks hands of three faceless entities, but the reactions of the town elders and residents are even more twisted and horrific.

I’m going to put a boilerplate disclaimer here; this is some very intensely transgressive fiction. It contains really graphic descriptions of some pretty repugnant acts and is not for the faint of heart. I won’t put a trigger warning list here because I think there is such a dark list of topics that if you’re the sort of person who references trigger lists before making a decision, I would just caution you away from the list before bothering.

Here’s what I really enjoyed about this book: LaRocca asks big questions without hitting the reader over the head. Using really overwhelming imagery and somewhat extreme hypotheticals, we are posed questions throughout the narrative about our own tolerance for the absurd as well as the philosophical. What excuses violence and depravity? How much can we waive away as convention and tradition? How are love and coercion intertwined? I think if you can dig through the shock factor and the somewhat confusing narrative, there’s a lot to think about and the book begs reflection.

However, I think that this book begs a really, really careful attention. Context is missing where it’s wanted, and sometimes more information is given without reason. Things are confusing, and at times the plot seems to stop and start in different, jarring directions. Even the way the town is described is confusing and disorienting. If it weren’t for the fact that certain chapters are year marked, even the time period is somewhat difficult to discern. While the picture was clearer at the end of the book with the knowledge that this is supposed to be the first of a trilogy, large swaths of the text just had me thinking “huh?” Maybe I needed to reread the book more carefully to glean what I needed to, but I really didn’t want to. This book didn’t compel me to go back over it with a fine toothed comb.

This book, as a horror book, relies much less on the supernatural (which is present) and more on casual atrocities. I think that while I wasn’t necessarily of the opinion that this was disgusting or unnecessary overall, there were a few inclusions (the diary entry; spoiler alert) that made me wonder where the author was going. In general I do prefer to feel appalled over flabbergasted, and unfortunately that’s where it veered at times.

This was a book that took very large risks, and in some senses I did feel like that played out. In terms of a book that made me pause and reflect, I did think that was powerfully successful. However, I found the book to be both confused and confusing, and like at times there were shoehorned inclusions. If you’re a reader of transgressive fiction, I’ll give it a 3/5.

When I love a book, I want to tell it to the world. I will sing its praises to anyone who will listen (and even folks who won’t, as long as they don’t protest too loudly).

Most of the time.

There are, however, books that I love, and I mean really love, that I have to consider carefully before sharing my enthusiasm. Why? Glad you asked! Some books are extreme enough, transgressive enough, that I have to think twice before making a recommendation. Do I know my fellow reader well enough to suggest a book that for some people would be too much to handle? I’m talking about books like Exquisite Corpse, Tender Is the Flesh, Santa Steps Out, A Feast Unknown, books that I love but which don’t just push the envelope but shred it into confetti.

I’m talking about Eric LaRocca’s books. In a few short years, LaRocca has become a must-read author for me. They’re redefining what horror can be, and they’re doing it in the most uncompromising way possible. Book after book, LaRocca has gleefully served up a big fuck you to horror conventions, and I’m there for it.

They’re forthcoming We Are Always Tender With Our Dead is book one of the Burnt Sparrow trilogy, and it is their biggest, baddest fuck you yet.

Burnt Sparrow is a small New Hampshire town where a brutal, senseless act of mass murder transforms the lives of everyone involved. For a teenage boy named Rupert, the violence forces him to confront a family consumed by trauma and brutality. It forces the rest of the town to test the limits of vengeance, cruelty, and perversion. At what point does retribution cross the line and become just as evil as the event that ignites it?

LaRocca writes with visceral, lyrical intensity. We Are Always Tender With Our Dead is harrowing from first page to last, a portrait of cruelty and overwhelming grief. There are scenes here that will stay with you for a long time. Honestly, LaRocca has outdone themself. For me, this is their best, most fully realized work yet.

One final note…LaRocca has included a heartfelt content warning. Please take it seriously. This book may not be for everyone, but if you like your horror deep, dark, and devastating, with no holds barred, We Are Always Tender With Our Dead is made for you. It releases September 9th, 2025, and is available for preorder now.

This book is the last one I'm going to read by Eric LaRoca. It's the fourth I read by him and I only enjoyed "Things have gotten worse since we last spoke".
I find his books very intense and often obscene just for the sake of being obscene. I try to find some meaning behind but couldn't.

Thank you netgalley for the copy

Thank you to NetGalley for this ARC!
I was so excited to receive a new Eric LaRocca title, and it didn’t disappoint. This one moved a little slower than I’m used to, but the payoff was worth it. LaRocca’s writing is dark, disturbing, and completely unhinged—in the best possible way. No one does beautiful horror quite like him. His work lingers long after the last page.

While slow and meandering, this character-focused book gave me exactly what I've come to expect of Larocca with twisted, sordid views of humanity. It felt reminiscent of Ottessa Moshfegh in the speculative gore and small-town nature.

I had already read "Things have gotten worse since we last spoke" from the same author, and unfortunately didn't remember about it until the beginning of this book. Needless to say, the whole reading experience can once again be summarised with a comprehensive "what the hell did i just read".

Unfortunately this falls under a category of body horror and supernatural stuff that's just not quite my cup of tea; it definitely aces the aim of being incredibly disturbing, however it does its job a bit too well for my personal liking.
Nevertheless, I wouldn't say it was bad, but at the same time I don't know if I would actually recommend it. Let's just say you have to be aware of what you're getting into.

We Are Always Tender with Our Dead is harrowing. LaRocca introduces the book with trigger warnings that I highly recommend you heed before reading. I will say, as someone who has read a good deal of LaRocca's work, the moments these warnings come to play in WAATWOD are not nearly as graphic as I know they are capable of writing. For WAATWOD, I found the emotion and motivation behind each characters' actions are what makes this a truly horrifying read.

Rupert Cromwell has it tough, to say the least. He's a teenager, his mother has recently died, and his still-living father is closed off and unreliable. Rupert has been planning his exit from the town of Burnt Sparrow, itching for the freedom that comes with turning eighteen. Fate seems to have different plans for both Rupert and Burnt Sparrow. Following a Christmas massacre in the town, Rupert finds himself assigned to watch over the remains of the slaughtered alongside his father. During this time, truths about the massacre, Burnt Sparrow, and its people rear their ugly heads.

I can't wait to see what's to come for this cursed little town.

TW: violence, incest, and rape.