The Perfect Hosts by Heather Gudenkauf Review

I received a free copy of this book in exchange for a fair and honest review. All opinions are my own. 

A couple’s gender reveal party turns deadly in author Heather Gudenkauf’s “The Perfect Hosts.”

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The Synopsis

A couple’s gender reveal party turns deadly and everyone is a suspect in this gripping thriller from the New York Times bestselling author of The Overnight Guest.

Is it a boy or a girl? They would die to know…

Madeline and Wes Drake have invited two hundred of their closest friends and family to their sprawling horse ranch for the most anticipated event of the year: a “pistols and pearls” gender reveal party so sensational it is sure to make headlines. But the party descends into chaos when the celebratory explosive misfires, leaving one woman dead and a trail of secrets.

As the aftershocks of the bloody party ripple across the small town, Agent Jamie Saldano is brought on the scene to investigate. Battling his own demons from the past, Saldano unearths a web of deceit spun around the Drakes. The appearance of some unexpected houseguests only deepens the mystery. And as tensions mount, it becomes clear that the explosion wasn’t just an unlucky accident. But who was the target, and why? As the shadow of a killer looms, the happy parents-to-be must unravel the truth before it’s too late.

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The Review

What a compelling and dynamic read. The author did a marvelous job of layering this story with mystery and intrigue, first by shocking the reader with hidden secrets and explosive and deadly events that set off a chain of events that will rock the cast of characters to their core. The tension that mounts from the beginning is palpable, and the harrowing way the mystery unfolds leaves a lasting impression on the reader thanks to the strong use of imagery in the author’s writing style.

The heart of this narrative is in the dynamic characters the author brings to life on the page and the charged themes that bring this story to life. The story delves into themes of domestic violence and twisted family dynasties, and the corrupting power that wealth can bring to life in a person. The way this impacted the characters in shocking ways, from the surprising revelations behind Agent Jamie Saldano’s backstory and connection to the setting to the emotional struggles of the protagonist, Madeline, and the multiple POVs that the story captures, greatly enhanced the novel’s narrative flow.

The Verdict

Harrowing, thrilling, and compelling, author Heather Gudenkauf’s “The Perfect Hosts” is a must-read domestic thriller. The shocking twists and turns in the narrative, the haunting realities the story explores in wealthy and elite society, and the far too often overlooked world of domestic abuse and the evil that usually lurks where we least expect it made this story enthralling to engage in. If you haven’t yet, be sure to grab your copy today!

Rating: 10/10

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About the Author

Heather Gudenkauf is the critically acclaimed author of several novels, including the New York Times bestsellers The Weight of Silence, The Overnight Guest and Everyone Is Watching. She lives in Iowa with her husband and children. 

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Please Enjoy this Excerpt from “The Perfect Hosts

MADELINE

“Madeline,” comes Wes’s voice, tinny and faraway-sounding. “Are you okay?”

She is lying flat on her back, the air still hazy with smoke. Is she? Is she okay? The ringing in her ears is fading, and she can hear again. In the distance she can hear sirens. Help is coming. Madeline does a mental scan of her body. Nothing seems broken, but her head is pounding. She touches her hairline, expecting her fingers to come back with blood, but instead they find an egg- sized lump. She tries to remember exactly what happened. Wes pulled the trigger, and the truck exploded. An explosion, that’s what it was. Something had gone wrong with the reveal. The baby. Oh God, is the baby okay? She presses her palms against her belly.

“Madeline, Madeline,” comes Wes’s voice again, this time more insistent. His frantic face comes into view.

“Shhh,” Madeline orders. “Please be quiet.” She needs to lie completely still, has to concentrate so she can feel the baby move. She. The baby is a girl, Madeline thinks, remembering the wisps of pink smoke she saw among the fiery black cloud. Her little girl will kick her in the bladder, one of her favorite moves, any second now. There is nothing. No cartwheels or wiggles. Nothing.

Wes kneels beside her and slips his hand into hers. “Help is coming. Stay put. Don’t move.”

Madeline nods as hot tears roll down her cheeks. “What happened?”

“It must have been the truck,” Wes says. “It must have triggered a bigger explosion.”

“But how?” Madeline asks. “You said it was safe . . . Is anyone hurt?”

“It was. It was supposed to be.” He shakes his head, be- wildered. “I don’t know what happened.”

Madeline struggles into a sitting position and looks around. Charred lumber litters the lawn. The canopy over the dining tables has collapsed and is covered in dancing flames that a handful of guests and waitstaff are trying to smother with what- ever is handy: cowboy hats, table linens, an old horse blanket. Other guests are gathered in small, tight clusters, holding on to one another. Some sit in the grass crying, others stand slack- faced, as if in shock. Through the smoke a rodeo clown appears, his brightly colored clothing now blackened with soot and his makeup running down his sweaty face. The clown is helping the photographer, who is bleeding from the head. But it is the old storage barn that Madeline finds herself fixated on. Huge f lames shoot from the hayloft window and the roof. Someone pulls a hose from one of the horse barns, and suddenly buckets and containers of all sizes appear. Others, including Johanna’s husband, Dalton, are running toward the burning barn and tossing water onto the structure. They know that one wayward spark could ignite the house or, worse, the barns filled with her beloved horses.

“Can you walk?” Wes asks. “We have to get you away from here.”

Madeline nods, and Wes helps her to her feet. She is barefoot. The blast had lifted her in the air and knocked her flip-flops clear off her feet. Madeline, leaning against Wes, winces with each step, the rough ground pricking at the soles of her feet. He leads her to the meadow, a safe distance from the burning barn, but still close enough for her to see what’s happening. Some of Madeline’s earlier numbness is beginning to wear away, and the enormity of what has happened begins to descend.

“Go,” Madeline says, knowing they need as many hands as possible.

Wes shakes his head. “No,” he says. “I’m not leaving you.” “I’m fine,” she says, but is she? She fell hard, and still the baby hasn’t moved.

Madeline scans the crowd. “Where’s Johanna?” she asks. “Have you seen her?”

“I haven’t,” Wes says. “But I’m sure she’s around here somewhere. Have you seen Dix?”

“No,” Madeline says. The last she saw Dix was just before he handed the microphone to Wes. “Go,” Madeline repeats. “Really, I’m fine. I just have to get my bearings,” she assures him when he turns his gaze to her doubtfully. “Go help, find your brother. And check on the horses.”

“You wait here,” Wes says. “Don’t move from this spot, and I’ll come back and find you.” He squeezes her hand and kisses her cheek before darting away and disappearing into a cloud of black smoke.

Madeline continues to eye the property for any sign of Johanna’s long dark braid, her suede skirt. In the distance the wail of sirens grows closer. Help is coming. The meadow to the left of the house was being used as a makeshift parking lot for the guests’ vehicles. One wayward spark from the fire landing on the stubbled field could set off a chain reaction where upward of a hundred cars and trucks, tanks filled with gasoline and diesel, sit idly.

The air is filled with inky smoke blotting out the face of the mountain and the setting sun. A fire truck pulls through the side yard, crushing Madeline’s lavender and Russian sage, its massive tires carving deep ruts in the soil. Madeline barely notices—it’s what she sees as a group of guests part to let the truck through that causes her breath to lodge in her throat. A woman lies on the ground, her arm thrown over her face, while someone presses a blood-soaked cloth to her abdomen. One by one, Madeline registers the carnage. Someone is doing CPR on Gary Wilson, the president of the bank that holds their mortgage. One of her equestrian students is wandering aimlessly through the smoke, tears running down her face. A fifteen-hundred- pound bull has escaped the rodeo paddock and is trotting toward the mountains. She sees Mellie, the young waitress, running and screaming, fire dancing up the front of her legs. A partygoer tackles her, smothering the flames with his body.

This is bad. So very bad. Madeline fights the urge to vomit. She wants to help. But how? Water, Madeline thinks. She can pass out bottles of water, try and keep the guests calm and reassure them that help is here, that everything is going to be okay. On unsteady feet she moves toward the party barn, where she knows there is plenty of bottled water, but someone grabs her arm. Mia. “Have you seen Sully?” she asks tearfully, her arm hanging at an odd angle. “I can’t find him.”

Madeline shakes her head. “I’ll help look for him,” she promises. “You’re hurt. Sit down.”

Mia shakes her head. “I need Sully,” she says thickly and stumbles away. There are too many injured and not enough emergency personnel.

The fire truck has come to an abrupt stop. Two firefighters are urging those guests who jumped in to try to put out the fire to move away from the blaze. With machinelike efficiency, they unroll the hoses.

Madeline is mesmerized by the flames that roll across the roof of the barn, the dense cloud of smoke, the roar of lumber being eaten by the flames. She moves closer, unnoticed by the firefighters, her face growing pink from the heat. Madeline vaguely becomes aware of more sirens and shouts of “Over here” and “Please help!” More help has arrived. The spray of water hisses and snarls as it strikes flames and wood. The barn turns into a living thing then, twisting and groaning until it collapses in on itself, turning to a big heap of charred lumber with sooty farm equipment peeking out here and there.

Excerpted from The Perfect Hosts by Heather Gudenkauf, Copyright © 2025 by Heather Gudenkauf. Published by Park Row Books

This Is How I Lied by Heather Gudenkauf Blog Tour

I received a free copy of this book in exchange for a fair and honest review. All opinions are my own. 

A young woman dealing with a pregnancy and her career as a police officer has her world turned upside-down when the unsolved murder of her best friend finds new evidence, and leads her into a whirlpool of suspects who are far closer to her than she could have imagined, in author Heather Gudenkauf’s “This Is How I Lied.” 

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The Synopsis

With the eccentricity of Fargo and the intensity of Sadie, THIS IS HOW I LIED by Heather Gudenkauf (Park Row Books; May 12, 2020; $17.99) is a timely and gripping thriller about careless violence we can inflict on those we love, and the lengths we will go to make it right, even 25 years later.

Tough as nails and seven months pregnant, Detective Maggie Kennedy-O’Keefe of Grotto PD, is dreading going on desk duty before having the baby her and her husband so badly want. But when new evidence is found in the 25-year-old cold case of her best friend’s murder that requires the work of a desk jockey, Maggie jumps at the opportunity to be the one who finally puts Eve Knox’s case to rest.

Maggie has her work cut out for her. Everyone close to Eve is a suspect. There’s Nola, Eve’s little sister who’s always been a little… off; Nick, Eve’s ex-boyfriend with a vicious temper; a Schwinn riding drifter who blew in and out of Grotto; even Maggie’s husband Sean, who may have known more about Eve’s last day than he’s letting on. As Maggie continues to investigate, the case comes closer and closer to home, forcing her to confront her own demons before she can find justice for Eve. 

The Review

A truly gripping thriller that takes readers on an emotional roller-coaster ride, author Heather Gudenkauf’s “This Is How I Lied” begins as a personal story of a young woman seeking justice for her long lost best friend, and takes a dramatic turn that puts every character in the spotlight. 

The brilliant use of flashbacks through the eyes of the victim to the modern-day investigation and the secrets that fuel all of the characters make this such an engaging narrative. Just when readers have a bead on who the killer is, the author drops a new piece of the puzzle that turns the investigation on its head. The author does a marvelous job of portraying the narrative in a very cinematic way, allowing readers to envision the events of the story playing out perfectly. 

The Verdict

A must-read thriller and mystery, “This Is How I Lied” by Heather Gudenkauf is a fantastic narrative that deserves to be read. Evenly paced, thought-provoking, and shocking in its delivery, this is a one of a kind read that fans of the mystery and thriller genres will not be able to get enough of, especially in the final shocking moments of the book’s end. Be sure to grab your copy today!

Rating: 10/10

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About the Author

Heather Gudenkauf is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of many books, including The Weight of Silence and These Things Hidden. Heather graduated from the University of Iowa with a degree in elementary education, has spent her career working with students of all ages. She lives in Iowa with her husband, three children, and a very spoiled German Shorthaired Pointer named Lolo. In her free time, Heather enjoys spending time with her family, reading, hiking, and running. 

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Author Q&A

1. What is your writing process like? 

I approach each of my novels with the goal of being a plotter – someone who explicitly organizes and outlines her books – but it never quite works out that way for me. I make notes and outline the plot but ultimately the characters take over and do what they want to anyway. My process is messy and meandering. Thankfully, I have a brilliant editor who is able to see through the weeds and pull out the best parts of my plots and keep me on the right path. This is How I Lied completely evolved from my initial intentions. The characters changed, the plot shifted and the final ending poked its head up near the end of revisions and I couldn’t be happier with the results. 

2. Which came first: the characters or plot line?

For me, the two go hand in hand. The basic plot line comes first, and close behind comes the characters. It doesn’t matter how suspenseful of a plot I develop, if the right characters aren’t there to mold the story and carry it forward, it won’t work. Before I begin writing, I attempt to give my characters rich backstories. Often many of these details don’t make into the novel, but by fully developing their personalities and biographies, it helps keep me in tune with them as I write. Knowing the characters’ likes and dislikes, their foibles and strengths helps me to honestly and accurately determine their motivations and the decisions they make as they move through the novel. 

3. How do you come up with your plots?

I’m a news junkie! I’ll scan newspapers and websites and a story will catch my eye. It can be the smallest detail or a broader theme but if the idea sticks with me and keeps harassing me to write about it, I know I’m on the right track. For my novel Little Mercies, it was an article about a social worker who ended up on the other side of the justice system because of alleged negligence with her caseload. From this I created an entirely new story about a social worker who was fighting for her own child. In This is How I Lied, I was intrigued by news stories that dealt with the use of familial DNA to solve cold cases and it became a key detail in the novel’s resolution.

4. Do you use music to help set a mood/tone for your books? 

I do listen to music as I write. It varies based on the story and what I think the characters might listen to. By curating these playsets, it helps me get into their mindset. As I worked on Maggie’s sections in This is How I Lied I listened to a lot of Avett Brothers and Lumineers. For Nola, I listened to classical music and hard rock – she’s an interesting mix. As for Eve, since she was sixteen years old and living in the 90s, I listened to plenty of Nirvana and Beck. 

5. Where did the idea for this story come from? 

Before I started writing This is How I Lied, I read I’ll be Gone in the Dark by Michelle McNamara, about the author’s investigation of The Golden State Killer who, for decades, terrorized northern California. This book both terrified and fascinated me and I became intrigued by how modern technology was being used to close old cold cases. For my project, I thought it would be interesting to explore how this might play out in a small town where the perpetrator thought the truth behind the crime would never be discovered. 

As I was writing the novel, I learned about the developments in a 40-year-old cold case not far from where I live where familial DNA was used to ultimately convict the killer. Amazing!

6. Do you find inspiration for your novels in your personal life? 

I often get asked what my childhood must have been like because of the twisty thrillers I write. Thankfully, I can say that I had a blissfully uneventful childhood with parents and siblings that loved and supported me. For me, the inspiration from my own life comes in the settings of my novels – the Mississippi River, farmland, the woods and bluffs – all found in Iowa. In This is How I Lied, the town of Grotto is loosely based on a nearby town until I moved to this part of Iowa, I never realized that we had cave systems.  Visitors to the state park, can literally step back thousands of years. The limestone caves and bluffs are beautiful, haunting and have something for everyone. You can take a casual stroll through some of the caves and have to army crawl through some of the others. Old clothes and a flashlight are a must! The caves made the perfect backdrop for a thriller and I was excited to include them in This is How I Lied.

7. What is the one personality trait that you like your main characters to have and why? 

In looking back at all my main characters, though they are all different ages and come from different walks of life, I think the trait that they all seem to have in common is perseverance. I’ve had characters battle human evil and demons of their own creation but it doesn’t matter what traumatic events they have been through or the challenges they will face, they manage to make it through. Changed for sure, but intact and hopeful for the future.

8. Why do you love Maggie and why should readers root for her? 

I do love Maggie! As a police detective, Maggie has dedicated her adult life to helping others and is a loving daughter, sister and wife and is expecting her first child. This doesn’t mean that Maggie is perfect. Like all of my protagonists, Maggie is complicated and flawed and has made some big mistakes, but ultimately she is doing the best that she can.

9. What is one thing about publishing you wish someone would have told you?

As a former elementary school teacher, I had absolutely no insights into the publishing world beyond what I saw on television and in movies – which portrayed it as a dog-eat-dog world. I have to admit, as a new author, I was very intimidated. But to my delight –  and relief – the people I’ve encountered along the way– my agent, editors, publishing teams, fellow authors, booksellers and readers – all have been nothing but supportive, encouraging and kind.

10. What is coming up next for you? 

I just finished the first draft of my next novel, a locked-room mystery about a reclusive writer working on a true crime book when a snow storm leaves her trapped inside her remote home, setting off a series of events that lead to a stunning revelation. It was so much fun to write!

11. Has quarantine been better or worse for your writing? 

It’s been such a scary, unsettling time but I’ve found writing a nice distraction and a great comfort during this extended time at home. I’ve been able to turn off the news and get lost in my manuscript or other writing projects. It’s a lot like reading – a much needed escape from the real world.

12. What was your last 5 star read? 

Julia Heaberlin has a new book coming out this August called We Are All the Same in the Dark and it has surged to the top as one of my favorite reads of the year. It has everything I love in a great thriller: a beautifully written small town mystery, with multilayered, unforgettable characters and a twisty plot. It was absolutely mesmerizing.

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This Is How I Lied Book Excerpt

Maggie Kennedy-O’Keefe

Monday, June 15, 2020

As I slide out of my unmarked police car my swollen belly briefly gets wedged against the steering wheel. Sucking in my gut does little good but I manage to move the seat back and squeeze past the wheel. I swing my legs out the open door and glance furtively around the parking lot behind the Grotto Police Department to see if anyone is watching.

Almost eight months pregnant with a girl and not at my most graceful. I’m not crazy about the idea of one of my fellow officers seeing me try to pry myself out of this tin can. The coast appears to be clear so I begin the little ritual of rocking back and forth trying to build up enough momentum to launch myself out of the driver’s seat.

Once upright, I pause to catch my breath. The morning dew is already sending up steam from the weeds growing out of the cracked concrete. Sweating, I slowly make my way to the rear entrance of the Old Gray Lady, the nickname for the building we’re housed in. Built in the early 1900s, the first floor consists of the lobby, the finger printing and intake center, a community room, interview rooms and the jail. The second floor, which once held the old jail is home to the squad room and offices. The dank, dark basement holds a temperamental boiler and the department archives.

The Grotto Police Department has sixteen sworn officers that includes the chief, two lieutenants, a K-9 patrol officer, nine patrol officers, a school resource officer and two detectives. I’m detective number two.

I grew up in Grotto, a small river town of about ten thousand that sits among a circuitous cave system known as Grotto Caves State Park, the most extensive in Iowa. Besides being a favorite destination spot for families, hikers and spelunkers, Grotto is known for its high number of family owned farms – a dying breed. My husband Shaun and I are part of that breed – we own an apple orchard and tree farm.

 “Pretty soon we’re going to have to roll you in,” an irritatingly familiar voice calls out from behind me.

I don’t bother turning around. “Francis, that wasn’t funny the first fifty times you said it and it still isn’t,” I say as I scan my key card to let us in.

Behind me, Pete Francis, rookie officer and all-around caveman grabs the door handle and in a rare show of chivalry opens it so I can step through. “You know I’m just joking,” Francis says giving me the grin that all the young ladies in Grotto seem to find irresistible but just gives me another reason to roll my eyes.

“With the wrong person, those kinds of jokes will land you in sensitivity training,” I remind him.

“Yeah, but you’re not the wrong person, right?” he says seriously, “You’re cool with it?”

I wave to Peg behind the reception desk and stop at the elevator and punch the number two button. The police department only has two levels but I’m in no mood to climb up even one flight of stairs today. “Do I look like I’m okay with it?” I ask him.

Francis scans me up and down. He takes in my brown hair pulled back in a low bun, wayward curls springing out from all directions, my eyes red from lack of sleep, my untucked shirt, the fabric stretched tight against my round stomach, my sturdy shoes that I think are tied, but I can’t know for sure because I can’t see over my boulder-sized belly.

“Sorry,” he says appropriately contrite and wisely decides to take the stairs rather than ride the elevator with me.

“You’re forgiven,” I call after him.  As I step on the elevator to head up to my desk, I check my watch. My appointment with the chief is at eight and though he didn’t tell me what the exact reason is for this meeting I think I can make a pretty good guess.

It can’t be dictated as to when I have to go on light duty, seven months into my pregnancy, but it’s probably time. I’m guessing that Chief Digby wants to talk with me about when I want to begin desk duty or take my maternity leave. I get it.

It’s time I start to take it easy. I’ve either been the daughter of a cop or a cop my entire life but I’m more than ready to set it aside for a while and give my attention, twenty-four-seven to the little being inhabiting my uterus.

Shaun and I have been trying for a baby for a long, long time. And thousands of dollars and dozens of procedures later, when we finally found out we were pregnant, Shaun started calling her peanut because the only thing I could eat for the first nine weeks without throwing up was peanut butter sandwiches. The name stuck.

This baby is what we want more than anything in the world but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I’m a little bit scared. I’m used to toting around a sidearm not an infant.

 The elevator door opens to a dark paneled hallway lined with ten by sixteen framed photos of all the men who served as police chief of Grotto over the years. I pass by eleven photos before I reach the portrait of my father. Henry William Kennedy, 1995 – 2019, the plaque reads.

While the other chiefs stare out from behind the glass with serious expressions, my dad smiles showing his straight, white teeth. He was so proud when he was named chief of police. We were all proud, except maybe my older brother, Colin. God knows what Colin thought of it. As a teenager he was pretty self-absorbed, but I guess I was too, especially after my best friend died. I went off the rails for a while but here I am now. A Grotto PD detective, following in my dad’s footsteps. I think he’s proud of me too. At least when he remembers.

Last time I brought my dad back here to visit, we walked down this long corridor and paused at his photo. For a minute I thought he might make a joke, say something like, Hey, who’s that good looking guy? But he didn’t say anything. Finding the right words is hard for him now. Occasionally, his frustration bubbles over and he yells and sometimes even throws things which is hard to watch. My father has always been a very gentle man.

The next portrait in line is our current police chief, Les Digby. No smile on his tough guy mug. He was hired a month ago, taking over for Dexter Stroope who acted as the interim chief after my dad retired. Les is about ten years older than I am, recently widowed with two teenage sons. He previously worked for the Ransom Sheriff’s Office and I’m trying to decide if I like him. Jury’s still out.

Excerpted from This is How I Lied by Heather Gudenkauf, Copyright © 2020 by Heather Gudenkauf 

Published by Park Row Books