I can confirm that they were actually not very tender with their dead.
This is a beautifully written, weaving non-linear tale about a town that suffers an awful tragedy. However. the town and it's people are far from average and have very strange customs to say the least.
Would recommend reading the TW's at the beginning, I'm still trying to decide if some of the 'shock' moments felt necessary or just gratuitous.
You are left with more questions than answers by the end, but do you care enough to find out is the conundrum.
Ultimately, this first booked felt a little unbaked, but I think I would still like to read the next instalment as I am curious to see where it goes.

Thank you to NetGalley and the Publisher.
3/5 stars.

I had to tap out at around 40%. Every page piles on another taboo (incest, necrophilia, abuse, torture) which I’ve read before jusst fine, but here it felt disconnected and added for the sake of shock value.
The premise of Burnt Sparrow was intriguing: a town haunted by tragedy, faceless intruders, and old wounds. But the execution? The plot was thin, scattered between the character’s POV that felt more like disconnected vignettes than a cohesive narrative. The constant switching between diary entries, news clippings, and POVs broke any sense of immersion.

Twice Splatterpunk Award winner and thrice Bram Stoker Award finalist, prolific queer horror writer Eric LaRocca regrets to inform us that he failed miserably in handling the subject matter with delicateness and sensitivity. From the foreword, We Are Always Tender with Our Dead (Burnt Sparrow, #1) shows that tenderness has nothing to do with LaRocca's narrative.

Inspired by Goethe's quote (all beginnings are delightful;) "the threshold is the place to pause", Burnt Sparrow #1 is the manifestation of a threshold, a doorframe or a windowsill where its inhabitants have paused at the point of no return, observing with dread the tragedies unfolding throughout the history of this godforsaken place. The story starts with a news article reporting the death by fire of a queer couple, and the indication of a third person possibly being involved in the crime. Shortly after, we read a diary entry by Ruppert, a seventeen-year-old, suggesting he committed a hideous act he doesn't regret, making the reader wonder if there is a connection between both events. Needless to say, LaRocca's novels are deceptively linear. Misery seems to be widespread in this sulphur-smelling town, as Hell itself has built its threshold on top of Burnt Sparrow, New Hampshire.

Surprisingly, this novel reads as an angst-filled, claustrophobic, coming-of-age story, and despite the initial lack of character development in Burnt Sparrow #1, Ruppert's characterisation is on point (which cannot be said about the whole cast). We spend some time learning about the town, its history and inhabitants. His father is distant, jobless, and static. Ruppert is a sensible closeted queer boy who reads Proust and Steinbeck, the personification of angst teen, orphaned on his mother's side, grappling with growing up under his estranged father's care. For the past few years, after his wife's death, Ruppert's father has become numb, until a massacre takes place on Christmas Day 2003, when a dozen Burnt Sparrow residents are shot. The killers had no face, no nose, no mouth. We are introduced to the town Elders, representing a shaman-like congregation, perhaps suggestive of indigenous North Americans, and the Esherwood, the Burnt Sparrow patrons.

The novel progresses, and much of the background information is given in bits and pieces. Here, LaRocca questions morality, small-town power dynamics, queerness, desire, xenophobia and much more. Some of these enquiries are explored in a "horror" language, meaning you'll be disgusted. There are numerous trigger warnings and a list in the foreword. However, the violence often felt gratuitous, with no noticeable intention (including necrophilia, incest, rape). Ruppert meanders most of the novel, questioning and philosophising about everything around him, offering depth and a sense of disquiet. I daresay it has a tint of gothic.

After the massacre, the Elders and Mr Esherwood take the prisoners under their "care" and order the killed resident's corpses to remain on the spot where they were killed, creating job opportunities for the body-watchers. Ruppert and his father start working, preventing the corpses from being moved by fauna or foe. I won't spoil what happens, but I was expecting more. From this point Ruppert meanders endlessly and not much happens. It is fairly common for the first book of a series to set the scene for the remainder, however, Burnt Sparrow #1 felt unbaked. There are still too many loose threads to cast a full judgement, but this was not a strong first book of a series. It failed to engross me. Burnt Sparrow could work for others that are in it for the gore, the disgusting, the violent. Unfortunately, it wasn't for me.

"The threshold is the place to pause"
There's something beautiful in the way LaRocca treats rituals across all of his books. Whether it's something intimate with a character, or a larger part of the plot, he always finds a way to make the grotesque so enchanting and haunting. We Are Always Tender With Our Dead is no exception.
Every ritual has deliberate placement within the story and I can't wait to read the next book to see how they all weave together. The threshold being where this book pauses is so poetic.
"There's a stillness after every story told"
The stillness after LaRoccas books is always company I enjoy sitting with. This book comes highly recommended regardless if you're a long time fan or new to LaRocca and his work.

I wish I could say that I understood the point of this book. Eric LaRocca's work is often macabre, definitely dark, very queer, but ultimately wraps up in the end. However, this book remains a mystery. The whole book feels unbounded. I know this is the first in a planned trilogy but given my complete sense of WTF the whole way through, I don't think I have any interest in reading what happens next. Some of the scenes were gratuitously violent, which isn't atypical for LaRocca, but normally there is a purpose to the violence. Here...I'm scratching my head. Two stars because I could somewhat identify with the struggle Rupert was facing but a feeling of total confusion, with no resolution at the end, no questions answered, left me feeling like I might have wasted my time on this one.

We Are Always Tender with Our Dead is a haunting, visceral and deeply unsettling book that lingers long after the final page. Set in the small and isolated town of Burnt Sparrow, New Hampshire, the story begins with a brutal act of violence carried out by three faceless entities on Christmas morning. What follows is not only the town’s attempt to grapple with grief and loss but also the devastating ripple effects of trauma, cruelty and fractured relationships.

At the centre is Rupert Cromwell, a teenage boy forced to confront the harsh realities of family dysfunction in the wake of tragedy. His story intertwines with those of other townspeople as LaRocca exposes the rawest parts of human nature—bigotry, bitterness and despair—while also showing moments of tenderness, love and resilience.

LaRocca’s prose is striking, weaving beauty into horror with poetic intensity. The imagery is macabre yet elegant, creating an atmosphere that is at once heartbreaking and terrifying. This book does not shy away from the darkest truths of violence and cruelty, but it also highlights the fragile threads of humanity that endure even in the bleakest of circumstances.

We Are Always Tender with Our Dead is a devastating, unforgettable book. It hurts and holds you in equal measure, a testament to LaRocca’s ability to shock, move and captivate readers with profound eloquence.

Read more at The Secret Book Review.

This book has taken me places I would never stand in a ten foot vicinity of. Purposefully disturbing and oftentimes off-putting, WE ARE ALWAYS TENDER WITH OUR DEAD is set in Burnt Sparrow, a small town haunted by sinister forces that bring tragedy and ruin upon its citizens. This book gives rise to LOTS of questions and very few answers, likely since it's the first in a trilogy about Burnt Sparrow, which feels like a heavily traumatized adult's Gravity Falls. 


Rupert, the main character, is a young adult that wants nothing more than to leave his hometown, but every year that dream feels further and further away, until a tragedy unfolds that sends the town reeling, and Rupert is led down a path further in than out. The book is primarily told in Rupert's POV, and occasionally Gladys' (wife of the town's richest man), interspersed with blog posts set in the "future" that add to the town's conspiracy, though the added detail is as confusing as it is insightful. Who are these faceless creatures? Why are the town elders so adamant about displaying the dead bodies on the road? Is there some sort of supernatural monster epidemic? Generational suffering caused by the sins of their ancestors?? Was the shooting ever reported on national news? What is this emerald? What is Rupert??? There are so many puzzle pieces laid out, and only the vaguest hints of a picture being formed, which means the atmosphere is Great, but the story isn't something that I can fully appreciate until I've seen whatever else this trilogy has in store.


The narration leans very introspective and it feels like you're spending most of the squatting in Rupert's head despite the third person. LaRocca does a good job in conveying his very teenager-stuck-in-nowhere-america anxieties; the fear of eternally standing at a threshold and never going over, of time moving faster and your world shrinking faster than you can decide what to do with your life, of making irreversible decisions at seventeen. His fraught relationship with his father takes center stage for majority of the book, and their passive-aggressive push-and-pull dynamic of parental neglect and teenage resentment felt grounded and real.


Gladys as the secondary narrator was an interesting choice, especially since she felt less integral to the story than, say, Cyril, but I think his POV would've made the book twice as dark as it already is. Still crazy to think that Gladys was probably the sanest person in every room she walked into. Not sure if we'll see more of her in the next books, but I'd love to see how she and Rupert bond after what happened at the end. 


The elders are almost definitely going to be expounded on in the future (as they should!!), like what do they Know, what business do they have blood scrying, is there a Reason why they're all men? The faceless creatures are also something I'm very curious about- what compelled their initial violence and what tamed them in the aftermath? Coupled with the baby bird, they make for some very nightmare-worthy images. Also curious to see more of that creature that shifts into a loved one. The horror here seems largely fuelled by the corruption of what we thought as familiar, which adds to the claustrophobic feeling of entrapment that's ever-present on the page. A fascinating mix of supernatural and psychological horror that draws you in thrashing and convulsing.

Thank you to Titan Books and NetGalley for the eARC in exchange for an honest review.

Positives:
- The first third really had my attention. LaRocca is a very compelling authors and I can see myself possibly reading other books of his in the future!
- I enjoyed the mixed media parts of this book— news paper clippings, recordings, etc
- never read a splatterpunk before and this, negatives aside, wasn’t a bad start. the scenes of gore and assault were fairly non descriptive and left things up to the imagination, focusing on more of the aftermath and the horrors that come with it rather than the actual acts themselves.

Negatives:

- I can’t get over the incest scene. I just can’t. It was tasteful out of the three of the major “shock” scenes. Felt weirdly indulgent ?? What is the point? Scenes prior were quick, non descriptive and it surprised me how much detail was given to this scene. It was long, depraved, and drawn out. Sure, it very well is a scene found in books like these, that’s not my problem, but what is the main point of it? To show why Mr Esherwood is like that? Similarly, there were a few things in this book that were introduced and rather than being used to aid in the mystery of burnt sparrow, they felt shoehorned in (specifically Mr Esherwood incest trauma and Rupert’s “mom” being a trans man(? Did I imagine that?))

- Rupert has no motivations?? Or much of a character for that matter. Could have been a point but he felt more like a shell of the prospect of a character walking around and having things happen to him rather than him actively participating in the world around him.

2/5 idk man

WE ARE ALWAYS TENDER WITH OUR DEAD was absolutely excellent, disturbing, shocking and strangely beautiful. The descriptions of Burnt Sparrow and its eccentric inhabitants were unforgettable. I think the epistolary form worked wonderfully for this book, tracing people and patterns of behaviour through the small town's history and casting light onto some grim, grisly incidents in the town's elder years. I have loved every book I've read thus far by LaRocca, and this was no exception.

I will (and HAVE) read literally everything Larocca writes and he has yet to have a real dud for me. This is another beautifully grotesque book from him, although perhaps a little more abstract than his usual work. I loved immersing myself in his writing as expected, but i came away not sure if i quite grasped everything this was going for (specifically how much to take at face value versus symbolism). I’m definitely looking forward to the next installment in this series to see what’s next.

Once again Larocca’s horror is not for the faint of heart so make sure before going in that you can stomach graphic horror scenes.

I went into this anticipating that I would be disgusted and uncomfortable, and I certainly was. I really enjoy LaRoccas style of writing, I find it quite engaging and I read this book in a day.

There are some deeper messages hidden within the prose that get you thinking. However, there were a few plot points that seemed unnecessary. Whether this is intended to set us up for the second book remains to be seen. I read the trigger warnings so I knew what to expect but I do feel like some of these things were included just for the shock value, as I couldn't quite tell what their purpose was.

I only finished reading this yesterday so my rating might change after I've had sometime to process what I've read and how I feel about it.
Right now though, I'm not sure whether I would continue with the Burnt Sparrow series but we shall see.

This book was an absolute fever dream and was grotesque in every sense of the word. Lines were very quickly blurred between characters and I absolutely loved the mixed media throughout the book in the form of newspaper and online articles even though they introduced plot lines that didn’t really get addressed or were only partially related to the current characters that I presume will be the forefront of the other books in this series. The ending of this book was so open ended and I’m still thinking of the millions of possibilities of where we’ll pick up with the characters next time and if we even will see them again.

This was my first introduction to LaRocca’s writing and I can’t wait to read more!

I think this is LaRocca’s best work yet! As a big fan of his, I was really excited to get to read it early. I was shocked, disgusted, and torn apart. Which is how it usually goes with his books. I can’t wait for the next book in the series!

I've been a fan of Eric LaRocca's work for a while so was super excited to read this. I'm not one to usually shy away from dark themes, body horror, and taboo subjects, but I feel like this book unfortunately missed the mark.

Unlike some of LaRocca's previous work, We Are Always Tender with Our Dead lacked some of the more thought-provoking themes covered in the past. I failed to understand the characters’ actions and motivations, and while I appreciate that LaRocca is setting up a bigger story, I still wanted at least *some* semblance of a resolution for this first book. Instead, I was left with unresolved questions and a distinct “is that it?” kind of feeling.

Overall, this started as a promising dark mystery that unfortunately devolved into an exercise in shock value for the sake of shock value, and I was left wishing for more depth to the story, which I know LaRocca is capable of.

This is the first time after reading a book that I can genuinely say I’m at a loss as to what to rate it. I’m giving it a 3 for now. It may change the more I process it. I’ve gone back and forth between this is going to be a great book and honestly what the hell did I just read, but not in a good way…yet.

When I got to the end of the book, I realized that it’s the first book in a series which may save it. I felt there were soooo many unanswered questions, but again, it’s the first book in a series. Maybe there needs to be a lot of information up front that may not make sense all together until the subsequent books. I felt like there was just a lot of things going on in this town that were separate from each other but somehow were never really explained how they tied together.

I loved the beginning of the book but then the end of the book just left me confused and trying to figure out how I missed a lot of plot points because it’s not tying together for me at all yet.

I’m hoping the next book really starts to show a bigger picture and starts to make more sense.

It’s a 3 ⭐️⭐️⭐️ for now but I’m not sure how I feel about it at this point.

Thanks for the ARC.

A queer little town where the rituals are mysterious and faces are optional :)

I’ve loved following Eric LaRocca’s writing and tore through this one pretty fast. Love spooky towns and the surreal history he’s built so far is right up my alley. Find myself disappointed that I have to wait for the rest of the story though.

I had fun thinking about the theme of what people do to each other and why they do it, as well as some of the morality of justice and revenge.

Burnt Sparrow will be neat to follow in the coming years.

I was captivated by this book from chapter one! Every time I put it down, I couldn't wait to pick it back up.
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I would label this as an Epistolary Transgressive Horror with Fantasy elements. Eric LaRocca creates such a mysterious and uncanny feeling about the town of Burnt Sparrow by using diary entries, voice recordings, podcast transcriptions (cleverly timestamped at 3:33) and multiple character POVs. I found the characters to be very engaging, and I especially loved the back stories of the queer characters because they felt so endearing and authentic. There is also a little injection of folk lore (and found creatures) that just adds that much more depth to the story. Please also be aware that this book does house some trigger worthy elements, so please read responsibly. I however, am a desensitized POS- and those elements just added more intrigue to the story for me.
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I'm not new to Eric LaRocca's work, but I can honestly say this is my absolute favorite piece of writing from him. This story has everything I look for in a horror novel and it flows so seamlessly. I can't wait for the next book! I highly recommend adding this to your TBR!

Thank you to NetGalley, Titan Books and Eric LaRocca for providing an eARC of We Are Always Tender with Our Dead (Burnt Sparrow #1) prior to publication in exchange for my honest review. Expected Pub Date: Sep 9th, 2025.

I have a couple of questions about We Are Always Tender with Our Dead. 

What the F did I just read? 

How does Eric LaRocca do it? Pulling at your heartstrings one moment, pulling your stomach out through your throat the next? 

Why is a story about whistling when crossing a threshold so chilling and sad? 

I don’t really know how to describe the plot of this because a plot summary would reveal everything about this world - this town populated by miserable, irredeemable  people who only question their actions when it seems some good will come of them, and only cruelty makes any sense.

In We Are Always Tender with Our Dead, we are introduced to three main characters through whose eyes we are introduced to Burnt Sparrow, the trilogy

Burnt Sparrow - a small town with a dark history - which we learn about from a series of interstitial news reports as well as through the eyes of the other characters 

Rupert - a lonely 17-year-old boy grieving the death of his mother three years ago and doesn’t know how to talk to his father - or even if he wants to as he’s counting down the days until he turns 18 and can leave this town 

Gladys - woman having an affair with a female servant while married to a man she fears (and loves) 

The action begins with a mass killing on Christmas Day and dealing with the dead and how to punish the killers make up a great deal of the core plot, and the ripples of the mass murder drive the actions of the main characters.

In his introduction to this novel, Eric LaRocca echoes a sentiment I mentioned in a recent review of a different splatterpunk novel in regards to “enjoying” a piece of work, and the same holds true for this one, as he warns. Finding a book worthy of reading  that is thought-provoking and reaction- (and occasionally vomit-) inducing does not necessarily equate to a traditional definition of enjoyment. 

In that sense, I did not enjoy this visit to the town of Burnt Sparrow - and I can’t wait to see the last 2/3 of the trilogy. 

Thank you to NetGalley and Titan Books for the advance copy in exchange for my honest review.

We Are Always Tender with Our Dead is the kind of book that lingers in your mind long after you’ve finished it—in the best, eeriest way possible. LaRocca’s writing is sharp and lyrical, mixing unsettling imagery with moments of aching beauty. Each story feels like a tiny dark gem, polished yet jagged enough to draw blood if you look too closely. I loved how the collection balances emotional vulnerability with horror, creating a reading experience that’s both haunting and strangely comforting. The characters feel raw and human, even when they’re surrounded by the surreal and grotesque. It’s the kind of horror that doesn’t just shock you—it whispers to you, sits beside you, and refuses to leave. If you enjoy horror that’s as emotional as it is chilling, LaRocca delivers a masterclass here.

Rupert is weird. I bet you'd be weird too, if you had to live with a father like that, in Burnt Sparrow, this small eerie town that seems to be stuck in the past. The old-timey feel is complete with town elders who like to waltz around in their distinguishing clothes and decide on matters of the community. Then there's the obligatory rich dude, Mr. Esherwood, who comes with a spooky mansion where dark secrets lurk.

After a family with no face murders a bunch of townies, Rupert and his father get personally involved with the towns strange customs and we only go downhill from there.

Gladys is Mr. Esherwood’s wife, our other narrator. She's as good as trapped in the mansion, where her only joy is Veronica, her maid and companion.

Through the eyes of these two we are witnessing some truly disturbing and bizarre events that unfold following the capture of the murderers. There are strange, unnatural creatures, people get involved in horrifying acts of violence, inexplicable things keep happening and there's a touch of the supernatural.

This book is all about the vibes. Dark, gothic, mysterious, We Are Always Tender with Our Dead is an atmospheric read, perfect for fans of weird horror.