Friendly Fire
Friendly Fire is a literary novel that sits quietly in the reader’s hands and then refuses to be set down. It tells the story of a family forged by love and habit, pulled apart by choices meant to protect, and slowly undone by violences carried out in the name of family.
Why this book matters
It explores the ordinary mechanics of harm: not explosions or melodrama, but the gentle, cumulative damage of secrets, pious certainties, and “helpful” interventions that become betrayals. Readers who’ve lived inside complicated families will recognize these precise, painful moments.
It treats faith with nuance—not as a villain or a savior, but as a living presence that shapes decisions, comforts, and, at times, constricts. The novel shows how devotion can be both shelter and cage.
Its quiet intensity will appeal to fans of contemporary literary fiction who value psychological realism, moral ambiguity, and prose that lingers.
What you’ll experience
Deeply observed characters whose interior lives reveal the ways love and harm can be indistinguishable in practice. Each member of the family carries responsibility and regret; sympathies shift as the story unfolds.
Tactile, lyrical writing that balances restraint with emotional clarity. The language is precise without being showy; it invites close reading and rewards it.
A narrative that unfolds like a slow burn: small actions reverberate, intentions are re-evaluated, and the reader is left to judge whether the destruction was truly “intended” or merely the predictable outcome of human fallibility.
Who will love this book
Readers who appreciate books about family dynamics, moral complexity, and the quiet architecture of grief and reconciliation.
Book clubs and reading groups looking for rich material to discuss: intention versus impact, the role of religion in private life, and whether some harms are reparable.
Lovers of authors who write with empathy and moral clarity, valuing interiority over spectacle.
Compelling hooks for marketing copy
“A tender, unflinching study of how the things we do to protect the people we love can become the things that destroy them.”
“A novel about faith that neither flatters nor condemns—a humane exploration of belief’s power to heal and to harm.”
“An elegant, slow-burning family portrait that asks: when does good intention become a quiet violence?”
Closing line to use on covers or pitches
“Family, faith, and the small violences that follow good intentions—an intimate, haunting novel about what we believe we must do and what we actually do.”
Friendly Fire is a book that won’t shout for attention. Instead it will quietly rearrange the way a reader thinks about intention, responsibility, and the fragile architecture of family life.
Friendly Fire is a literary novel that sits quietly in the reader’s hands and then refuses to be set down. It tells the story of a family forged by love and habit, pulled apart by choices meant to protect, and slowly undone by violences carried out in the name of family.
Why this book matters
It explores the ordinary mechanics of harm: not explosions or melodrama, but the gentle, cumulative damage of secrets, pious certainties, and “helpful” interventions that become betrayals. Readers who’ve lived inside complicated families will recognize these precise, painful moments.
It treats faith with nuance—not as a villain or a savior, but as a living presence that shapes decisions, comforts, and, at times, constricts. The novel shows how devotion can be both shelter and cage.
Its quiet intensity will appeal to fans of contemporary literary fiction who value psychological realism, moral ambiguity, and prose that lingers.
What you’ll experience
Deeply observed characters whose interior lives reveal the ways love and harm can be indistinguishable in practice. Each member of the family carries responsibility and regret; sympathies shift as the story unfolds.
Tactile, lyrical writing that balances restraint with emotional clarity. The language is precise without being showy; it invites close reading and rewards it.
A narrative that unfolds like a slow burn: small actions reverberate, intentions are re-evaluated, and the reader is left to judge whether the destruction was truly “intended” or merely the predictable outcome of human fallibility.
Who will love this book
Readers who appreciate books about family dynamics, moral complexity, and the quiet architecture of grief and reconciliation.
Book clubs and reading groups looking for rich material to discuss: intention versus impact, the role of religion in private life, and whether some harms are reparable.
Lovers of authors who write with empathy and moral clarity, valuing interiority over spectacle.
Compelling hooks for marketing copy
“A tender, unflinching study of how the things we do to protect the people we love can become the things that destroy them.”
“A novel about faith that neither flatters nor condemns—a humane exploration of belief’s power to heal and to harm.”
“An elegant, slow-burning family portrait that asks: when does good intention become a quiet violence?”
Closing line to use on covers or pitches
“Family, faith, and the small violences that follow good intentions—an intimate, haunting novel about what we believe we must do and what we actually do.”
Friendly Fire is a book that won’t shout for attention. Instead it will quietly rearrange the way a reader thinks about intention, responsibility, and the fragile architecture of family life.