Thanks to Netgalley and Riverhead for the ebook. This violent and fast story starts with Tony Ward back in Dublin after hiding out in England for the last five years. Told that the heat will be off him now for a killing he did five years ago, Tony doesn’t want to take any chances and joins up with a local crime boss, for money, but also he hopes for protection. He falls in love with the guy he’s working directly with and their affair has to stay a secret. The whole story deals in secrets on top off secrets until all the seams come loose and can only be solved with extreme violence.

This was a fascinating concept and I enjoyed that it was a unique concept in the Irish gangster concept. The plot was everything that I was looking for from the description and enjoyed the feel of this. The characters were so well written and I was invested in what was going on with Tony. Djamel White has a strong writing style and it was a suspenseful atmosphere that I wanted.

Tony is finally back in his hometown after spending five years away to stay out of the mess and heat he created by burying a knife in someone. Things are quite how he left it—his mentor is dead. His best friend has gone clean and escaped the gang life to raise his daughter. Despite the changes, Tony goes looking for the same old work and gets himself a job beneath a notorious gang boss. His new job places him at the side of Flute Walsh, a quiet boy from school that’s grown into something large and violent. But proving himself to his new boss is no easy feat with his own baggage coming back to haunt him, and his mess of feelings for Flute that can’t go ignored.

I was excited to jump into this book about Irish gangs with queer main characters. The narrative was fast paced, which helped stumble into the story, but in the end, it felt a little rushed. Between Tony’s history and feelings, including the complications that come with Darren (Flute) and Fanny, plot points and moments felt glossed over, and I wish the narrative could have either lingered or fleshed things out a bit more. However, it didn’t kill the story because it also added to the violence and suffocation that permeates Tony’s life. While it wasn’t my favorite, I’m still happy to have read this one.

Tony is an Irish gangster that recently arrived back in Dublin after being away for five years after killing a fellow gang member. Once he arrives back in Dublin he ends up working for an enforcer of a local crime boss. His new job, yet returning to his old life, chips away at his sense of self. He makes moral compromises with himself to further his work and get what he wants.

Watching as Tony dives back into the old-yet-new environment was an experience. We see how his morals conflict with each other as he does his job, flipping between helping himself and reducing harm while he carries out his orders.

The story is written in Irish vernacular which was interesting. I picked up on most words but I wish there were a couple more context clues to understand what was really going on. I think I may have missed/glossed over some plot points due to my lack of understanding. I know I could have looked the confusing words up online but slang definitions on the internet are hit or miss.

Sometimes queer gangster or mafia books will “feminize” a character in the M/M pairing to create a power dynamic. That didn’t happen here and I’m glad about that. The yearning and sexual content levels were perfect for this kind of story. I could feel Tony’s strong attraction to Darren but it didn’t come across as his main focus. Also, I’m a sucker for the brothers best friend dynamic…sue me.

The weight of the ending really sold the story to me. It was as if Tony’s hopelessness and defeat were being transmitted through the page. I wasn’t a huge fan of the ending but it made for an eventful reading experience. I heavily gravitate towards books with happy endings though, so that’s all on me.

I’d recommend this to people who love emotionally devastating, queer, gangster stories. I think I will purchase this book once it is published and reread it!

Thank you to Riverhead and Djamel White for providing this ARC ebook copy through NetGalley for this review!

Some stories close in tight, forsaking expansiveness for the grip of a chokehold. "All Them Dogs" belongs to that intense space where every street feels crowded, every room a size too small, and every breath too hot and sour on the skin.

The novel follows Tony, a troubled man recently returned to Dublin after a few years abroad. Unable to escape the past—especially the memory of a complex love and the crime that spurred his flight—he steps back into the fragile world of gangs, where loyalty shifts without warning and heartache strikes like a sudden fist. In the company of Flute—beautiful, unpredictable, and dangerous—he moves through errands that spare nothing of himself, every corner alive with risk.

Experiencing Tony's life so closely underscores the novel's compression. White shapes a tight, close-quartered world from grime, social codes, and language, the last of which is especially striking. Dense with street slang and bristling thoughts, the vernacular presses us into smoke-filled kitchens, across collapsing car seats, and against frayed tempers until the tension feels skin-tight.

As inevitably as sweat pressed between bodies, conflict coils around Tony: priorities grind against alliances, secrets burst bubbles of solace, desire erodes danger, and parenthood stands in uneasy opposition to youthful volatility. Yet within a landscape that buries growth deep, change still claws its way through him.

In a world of relentless pressure, violence is constant, but Tony's encounters with it prod at a rage he can no longer summon by will alone. Even betrayal and heartbreak, when they find him, fail to restore the world to the stark contrast of black and white. This renders moral judgment complex, if not impossible. Tony isn't the most likable protagonist, but he’s a product of a way of living that has worn itself into him. That bruise-like tenderness is felt throughout.

He also harbors no illusions about himself. Survival remains his imperative, stripping him down to something raw and instinctive: an exposed nerve, an animal driven by hunger and fear. His brusqueness is as much a shield as it is a scar, the latter carved into him by hands once capable of gentle touch.

In this way, White gathers reality into a taut bundle and leaves it with us. How we bear its oppressive immediacy becomes part of the act of reading, making "All Them Dogs" not just observed, but inhabited.

As we quickly learn, emotion has no clear path. It’s bottled and pressed inward until all sensation dulls. The impulses twisting deep prove fatal. And yet, life in this world exists almost entirely on the surface—an electric state of being that burns out fast.

Feeling never runs deep enough to resist the slick glide of a blade through flesh; pain is white-hot but too quick to draw out torment. When bodies fall, they do so without ceremony, emptied of both presence and purpose.

The result is a consuming novel, albeit one that doesn't seem preoccupied with leaving a lasting wound. Its force lies elsewhere—in the precision with which it draws us into its grip, and the unease it leaves once we surface.

In this way, "All Them Dogs" feels less like a chronicle of gang life—though its portrayal is unflinching—than an anatomy of futility. Every act of brutality and shifting coalition circles back on itself, blind and insatiable.

The players keep moving across the same stage, holding themselves close to the edge because the drop is the only place where the blood runs hot. White captures this with a clarity that sharpens the novel’s impact: the understanding that the performance is endless and applause never expected—only the next cue.

The story was absolutely amazing, truly one amazing read. The only “issue” for me was just how the style was written, that’s just a me thing, but it was a fast pace book and a quick read for me!

Hard themes treated with respect and care. A compelling set of characters and a rich writing style.

All of the above united to form an immersive and powerful tale which will be hard not to love.

Written in the common vernacular of native Irish speakers, this book lends a realistic feel to its main character that is seldom seen in publications today. Though at times difficult to understand, its fast-paced action keeps the momentum going and keeps the reader invested. Overall, it is a good book and enjoyable because of its rarity.

Think of the grittiness from Young Mungo and the self-destructiveness from Anyone’s Ghost. This debut about a queer gang member in Dublin really struck a chord with me.

While reading, I wanted to shout at Tony so many times. After laying low for five years, he just slips back into his old life like it’s nothing. I felt the tension simmering when he chased people for money, the way he brushed off his own feelings whenever kids were involved. He was selfish, let his anger and fear take over, and somehow truly believed there was no other way but to mess everything up and get dragged back into gang life. Even Fanny, with her world at college, and Prendergast, who told him he might still become a fashion designer, couldn’t pull him out.

The story starts like the calm after a storm, until that same storm circles back and wrecks everything in its path. It kept me on edge, and I couldn’t stop reading. The knot in my stomach that formed in the first few pages only got tighter, and I clenched my fists more times than I can count. That ending left me staring into the distance, wishing for a sliver of hope.