fuonlyknew

MY REVIEW

It’s been twenty years since Dawn’s son went missing. She’s now moved to Meadowbrook, a peaceful, quiet town, looking for a fresh beginning. But some things won’t stay behind. They follow you. And soon Dawn begins to wonder about Evelyn. She seems nervous in her company. What is she hiding from Dawn? What is she afraid of?

I really had a hard time writing my review. I don’t know how many times I’d start writing it. Stop. And delete it to start over. Don’t get me wrong. This was a very good read. I just couldn’t get a handle on my review. It seemed I was always revealing too much. I couldn’t avoid spoilers. This was one of those books you want to tell people about. You want them to read it so you can share your thoughts.

Using multiple points of view was a good idea by the author. You really got into Dawn’s and Evelyn’s heads. Started to get a clearer picture. I had my suspicions about what had occurred but that just made me want to get to the end even more.

The ending. There’s more than one. I think I like the alternate one more. It’s one of those what goes around comes around things. Very satisfying.

4 STARS

Motherhood, Identity, and the Psychological Thriller Genre

Thrillers have always been about fear, survival, and the unknown, but when you add motherhood to the mix, it becomes something deeper, something primal. It’s no longer just about outsmarting an enemy or uncovering a hidden truth. It’s about identity, legacy, and the terrifying reality that a mother’s greatest fear is losing her child, in any sense of the word.

When I set out to write The Perfect Mother, I knew I wanted to explore motherhood through the lens of psychological suspense. Not just the act of mothering, but the identity of it. The way it shapes a woman, the way it’s challenged, the way it can be weaponized. At its heart, this book asks an unsettling question:

What happens when motherhood is built on a lie?

In thrillers, identity is often unstable. Characters wrestle with secrets, deception, and the fear of losing control. But when the core of your identity is being a mother, those stakes skyrocket. We see this with Dawn and Evelyn—two women who, in vastly different ways, have their identities as mothers put under siege.

• Dawn is the mother who lost. Her sense of self is fractured by grief, and without her son, she feels untethered from the role that once defined her. The world still sees her as a mother, but if she can’t mother her son, then who is she?
• Evelyn is the mother who took. She’s crafted an entire life around the belief that Daniel was meant to be hers. But when that belief is threatened, we see the cracks in her identity. If she isn’t Daniel’s mother, then who is she? And what happens to the life she’s built?

Both of these women, in their own way, are fighting for survival. Not just in a physical sense, but in an existential one. Their entire sense of self is on the line.

Motherhood and psychological thrillers go hand in hand because both revolve around control, fear, and perception. A good psychological thriller makes you question everything: What’s real? What’s imagined? What’s being hidden? And motherhood, at its core, can feel the same way.

• The fear of losing a child is one of the most visceral, universal fears there is. Thrillers capitalize on that fear, twisting it into something even darker.
• The pressure to be the “perfect” mother is an illusion that many women struggle with. In thrillers, that illusion is often literally shattered, exposing the raw truth beneath.
• The idea of being watched or judged—whether by society, other mothers, or even your own child—is an ever-present theme in both motherhood and suspense fiction.

That’s why stories like Gone Girl, Big Little Lies, and The Push resonate so deeply. They take something familiar (motherhood, marriage, family) and warp it just enough to make us question what we think we know.

Another theme I was drawn to while writing The Perfect Mother was the idea of the mother as a performance. How much of motherhood is real, and how much is an expectation we feel pressured to meet?

• Dawn is expected to grieve in a way that makes others comfortable, but what if she wants to rage instead?
• Evelyn is expected to mother in a way that looks “normal,” but what if her entire existence is built on a stolen life?
• Daniel, caught between two versions of his own identity, is expected to choose who he wants to be. But what if he doesn’t know?

Motherhood in thrillers often involves losing yourself—sometimes figuratively, sometimes literally. And for women, that’s a very real fear. How many of us have been told that once you become a mother, you are no longer just yourself? That your needs, your wants, even your identity take a backseat to the role you now play? Psychological thrillers take that fear and magnify it to terrifying proportions.

I wrote The Perfect Mother because I wanted to explore motherhood not as an ideal, but as a battleground for identity. I wanted to write about women who are complex, flawed, and sometimes unlikeable, but deeply human.

Because the truth is, motherhood is never just one thing. It’s joy and loss, love and fear, power and vulnerability. And in a thriller? It’s also the most dangerous weapon a woman can wield.