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1,902 ratings
One of Glamour’s Best Books of Summer - An Us Weekly Trending Title
“A delicious beach read.” –People
“Relatable characters round out a fun, fast read.” –Good Housekeeping
“A compelling, suspenseful tale.” –Kirkus Reviews
“The perfect summer read.” –Booklist
How well do you ever really know the family next door?
Bucolic Newport Cove, where spontaneous block parties occur on balmy nights and all of the streets are named for flowers, is proud of its distinction of being named one the top twenty safest neighborhoods in the US. It’s also one of the most secret-filled.
Kellie Scott has just returned to work after a decade of being a stay-at-home mom. She’s adjusting to high heels, scrambling to cook dinner for her family after a day at the office—and soaking in the dangerous attention of a very handsome, very married male colleague. Kellie’s neighbor Susan Barrett begins every day with fresh resolutions: she won’t eat any carbs, she’ll go to bed at a reasonable hour, and she’ll stop stalking her ex-husband and his new girlfriend. Gigi Kennedy seems to have it all together—except her teenage daughter has turned into a hostile stranger and her husband is running for Congress, which means her old skeletons are in danger of being brought into the light.
Then a new family moves to this quiet, tree-lined cul-de-sac. Tessa Campbell seems friendly enough to the other mothers, if a bit reserved. Then the neighbors notice that no one is ever invited to Tessa’s house. And soon, it becomes clear that Tessa is hiding the biggest secret of all.
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ISBN-10
150110649X
ISBN-13
978-1501106491
Print length
352 pages
Language
English
Publisher
Atria Books
Publication date
July 04, 2016
Dimensions
5.31 x 1 x 8.25 inches
Item weight
10.2 ounces
When you get to the end of your life, you realize the only important thing is love.
Highlighted by 44 Kindle readers
Time didn’t heal all wounds, but at least it layered buffers around them.
Highlighted by 41 Kindle readers
ASIN :
B010MH9WA4
File size :
2110 KB
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“Pekkanen deftly intertwines four stories into a tapestry depicting the frayed seams underlying small-town American domesticity. A mistress of women's fiction, Pekkanen transforms clichéd suburban troubles—from adolescent drama to infidelity—into a compelling, suspenseful tale.” (Kirkus Reviews)
“Pekkanen uncovers the hopes, heartbreaks, and indiscretions that lurk behind a community’s carefully maintained façade in this engrossing novel reminiscent of Liane Moriarty’s suburban-set mysteries. Women’s fiction star Pekkanen’s latest novel will be energetically promoted as the perfect summer read.” (Booklist)
“Tessa is the new mom on the block in this light mystery that peels off the smiling mask some women wear to face the world…Relatable characters round out a fun, fast read.” (Good Housekeeping)
"Relatable characters round out a fast, fun read." (Town & Country)
“A gossipy page-turner.” (Glamour)
Prologue
Lovely 3-BR Cape Cod w/finished basement on a cul-de-sac—no thru traffic! Located in one of the 20 safest neighborhoods in the U.S.! Immaculate condition! Wood floors! Southern-style porch overlooking fenced yard! Tranquil neighborhood Gorgeous neighborhood
Kellie Scott frowned, her fingers hesitating over her keyboard. “Peaceful neighborhood,” she murmured. “Serene . . .”
“Bucolic,” Miller Thompson suggested, leaning over her shoulder while he read the flyer copy on her computer. He exhaled and she felt a brush of warm breath against her bare arm.
“That’s it,” she said. “Thanks.”
She watched Miller stroll away, then she finished the flyer before going into the kitchen for a cup of coffee. It was only her fourth day on the job, but she felt confident she could sell the kitchen in this office as a vacation property to harried mothers (as if there were any other kind) of young children. She imagined the copy she’d write: Floors that don’t crunch disturbingly under your feet! A spotless refrigerator with sodas and bubbly water lined up like little soldiers! A table that isn’t covered in dried Play-Doh and sticky juice boxes!
Her blood pressure seemed to drop twenty points every time she walked in here and realized she didn’t have to clean rotting vegetables out of the crisper or make dinner for a ten-year-old girl who refused to eat much of anything except cheese or bacon and a seven-year-old boy who seemed to subsist on baby carrots and celery.
“My daughter is on the Atkins diet and my son’s trying the supermodel diet,” she’d joked to her in-laws during their weekly family dinner last Sunday. Her sister-in-law had responded quickly (some might say aggressively) by ladling a large helping of broccoli and rice onto her own son’s plate.
Here, though, in this hushed office with tasteful beige walls and mahogany furniture, no one judged her. Here she was Kellie 2.0—a sleeker, improved version of herself. She curled her hair and wore mascara and skirts. She never had to hide in the bathroom and whisper when she needed to make an important phone call. No one wiped runny noses on her sleeve.
“Ready for lunch?” Miller asked, poking his head into the kitchen.
“Lunch?” Kellie repeated. She had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and an apple in her shoulder bag. She’d planned to eat at her desk.
“Don’t tell me you’re planning to eat at your desk,” Miller said. “It’s tradition for the senior agents to take out the new hires during their first week.”
She felt her cheeks heat up. The last time she’d gone to a restaurant alone with a man was when she and her husband, Jason, had dined at the Olive Garden three weeks ago. He’d ordered the carbonara Never Ending Pasta Bowl and had complained of a stomachache afterward.
“Sounds great,” she said lightly.
This was all part of reentering the workforce after being a stay-at-home mom for a decade. You bought a pair of high heels. You made intelligent conversation about interest rates and whether kitchen renovations held their value in a resale. You ate lunch with colleagues—sometimes tall, distractingly handsome ones whose woodsy cologne lingered after they walked away from your desk.
Besides, Miller probably just wanted to learn more about the neighborhood. Kellie’s home was right down the street from his new listing, which was why he’d asked her to write the flyer copy and assist him with the open house. She could tell prospective buyers that Mr. and Mrs. Brannon had lived there for nearly fifty years, and that the neighborhood was called Newport Cove. That it was the kind of place where children played hopscotch on the wide sidewalks, and residents greeted one another by name and collected newspapers for each other when they went on vacation. Where all of the streets were named for flowers, and neighbors held block parties on balmy summer evenings. “Bucolic.” That was the perfect word.
“Sell it to good people,” Kellie’s best friend, Susan, who lived five houses down, had urged. “Make sure they have kids.”
“I will,” Kellie had promised.
A contractor was repainting every room in the vacant house and replacing the wall-to-wall carpets with modern, glossy wood flooring. A stager would bring in bouquets of bright flowers and accent pieces on Sunday morning. Kellie was going to bake chocolate chip cookies so the kitchen would smell irresistible.
The house reminded Kellie of a girl getting ready for a school dance, slipping into a new dress, fastening a sparkling bracelet around her wrist, dabbing on perfume. Wondering if someone across the room would smile at her, then make his way over and offer his hand.
The house deserved a good family. A special family. Kellie hoped whoever was meant to find it would come soon.
• • •
“A Southern-style porch overlooking a fenced yard!” Tessa Campbell read aloud to her husband, Harry. “A bucolic neighborhood!”
“What is a Southern-style porch, exactly?” Harry asked.
Tessa frowned. “Maybe one with pillars? But the point is, it’s in one of the twenty safest neighborhoods in the country. Plus it’s on a cul-de-sac.”
Harry sighed and scrubbed his hands through his short salt-and-pepper hair. “Are you sure this is the right thing to do?” he asked. “Uproot the kids? Leave our friends?”
“Are you kidding me?” she asked. “What’s the alternative? Stay here, with all the . . . the reminders?”
They spoke this way to each other now, in a kind of code. To anyone watching, they’d appear to be a normal couple enjoying a lazy summer evening on their wooden deck. A casual observer wouldn’t notice that Harry was on his third gin and tonic, or that the circles under Tessa’s eyes were the dark purple of an eggplant, or that Harry had a new, compulsive habit of tapping his foot against the floor.
Tessa gently closed her laptop.
“A fresh start is exactly what we need,” she said. “School doesn’t begin for a few weeks. It’s only a half day’s drive. We could head down Saturday night and stay in a motel. We’ll book one with a swimming pool, turn it into an adventure. We’ll spend the day checking out the town and the schools. If we like it, we could try to settle on the house fast.”
“If we move all of a sudden, won’t it look . . . ?” Harry began.
“No,” Tessa said firmly.
Harry drained his glass and Tessa wondered if he’d refill it again. Rat-a-tat-tat thrummed his foot against the wood floor.
“We need this,” she repeated.
Relocating wouldn’t be an issue for Harry’s job; his IT company’s headquarters was based across the country, in California, and he flew there for a few days every week or two but worked the rest of the time from home. Money wasn’t a concern, not since his generous stock options from his last job, a technology start-up, had kicked in. They didn’t have any family nearby, and the kids were young enough that they’d make new friends quickly. There were a dozen little reasons why a move wouldn’t be a bad decision. And a single enormous one why it was vitally necessary.
She could hear the kids arguing inside and she gauged the intensity with an experienced ear, determining that it didn’t require her intervention yet.
The sun eased lower in the pink-tinged sky, and the aroma of meat grilling on their next-door neighbor’s barbeque drifted over. She liked their neighbors; they were a retired couple who brought by extra tomatoes and zucchini from their garden. She liked this house, too. Tessa had stenciled artwork onto her children’s bedroom walls and had finally found the perfect shade of slate blue for the living room. They’d expanded eighteen months ago, bumping out into the backyard and creating a master suite and a cook’s kitchen that spilled into the family room.
She desperately wanted to walk away and never see any of it again.
Harry stood up and went to refill his glass. He’d lost weight, and his khaki shorts sagged around the waist. Tessa watched her husband take another long sip of his gin and tonic. The cold glass was sweating in the warmth of the August air and a few droplets rolled down Harry’s fingers before splashing onto the wooden deck.
Suddenly, she saw him again as he’d been on that night, reaching down to touch the dark red blood his shoe had tracked onto their kitchen floor, his eyes dazed. What happened? he’d asked her over and over. What happened?
Lost in the vision, Tessa didn’t realize Harry had spoken until his damp fingers clutched her arm. She flinched, then hoped he hadn’t noticed. She didn’t want him to think she was afraid of him. She had to be the steady one now; to convince him she could guide them through this.
“Okay,” he said. “We’ll go Saturday.”
She stood up, picking up her own wineglass, which was still half full. She’d dump the remainder in the sink. One of them had to stay sharp and between her insomnia and Harry’s drinking, it would be too easy to slip. “I’ll tell the kids,” she said. “We’ll have fun.”
Fun. An impossible concept. But the kids might enjoy the trip, at least. And once they were settled in a new place—in a safe place—she and Harry could try to find, if not joy, some measure of peace. A respite from the memories that were everywhere.
She left him there on the porch, sipping his drink too quickly, his eyes as blank as the darkening sky.
I’ll save you, she thought. I’ll save all of us.
Chapter One
Four Weeks Later
Newport Cove Listserv Digest
*Drivers Beware!
A friendly reminder that school starts today, so please be on the lookout for our students, especially the wee ones, and remember to come to a full and complete stop at every stop sign. Remember—A Normal Speed Meets Every Need! —Sincerely, Shannon Dockser, Newport Cove Manager
*Dog Poop
Would the owner of the VERY LARGE DOG (judging from the size of its leavings) please be considerate enough to clean up after your pet so that I don’t step in a disgusting mess when I’m in my own yard? Canine fecal matter not only contains parasites, it attracts rodents. Please treat your neighbors’ yards with the same respect you would accord your own. —Joy Reiserman, Daisy Way
*Honda Mechanic?
Can anyone recommend a good mechanic for a Honda minivan? —Lev Grainger, Crabtree Lane
• • •
“Hurry up, sweetie! You don’t want to be late for the bus on the first day!” Susan Barrett called up the stairs.
She grabbed the leash hanging on a hook in the coat closet and her shaggy gray mutt, Sparky, who had supersonic hearing when it came to the rattle of a leash or the creak of the oven door opening, came running, his nails scrabbling against the wooden floors.
Susan ran through a quick mental checklist: Cole’s new Spider-Man lunchbox was packed inside his matching Spider-Man backpack. A sheaf of three-ring paper filled his binder. His water bottle had been rinsed and filled.
She checked her watch. Sparky looked hopefully up the stairs. And Cole finally came racing down, his face clean but his shirt on backward.
Susan expertly flipped it around and they stepped outside into the golden September air. Later it would grow very warm, but right now the weather was mild and clear. This was the best part of Susan’s morning, the few minutes she and Cole spent ambling to the bus stop, calling out hello to neighbors while Sparky greeted his canine pals. At the beginning of a fresh day, it was easy to make resolutions: She wouldn’t eat carbs. She’d go to bed at a decent hour. She’d stop stalking her ex-husband, Randall, and his awful girlfriend.
A dozen yards ahead was her best friend, Kellie, shepherding along her daughter, Mia, and her son, Noah, who was conveniently Cole’s best pal. As Susan drew closer, she heard Kellie saying, “Just try two bites of a granola bar. Two little bites! I’ll pay you a dollar . . .”
“How come I don’t get paid for eating?” Cole asked Susan.
“Oh God, pretend you didn’t hear that,” Kellie said to Susan.
“Mrs. Scott, you said ‘God,’ ” Cole informed her.
“I beg your pardon,” Kellie said, winking, as Susan shrugged. Who knew where Cole had picked up that chiding tone? Maybe from Randall’s girlfriend; when in doubt, Susan found it convenient to assign her blame.
As Cole ran ahead to catch up with Noah, Kellie moved over to let Susan walk alongside her. But Kellie nearly stumbled as a sidewalk crack snagged one of her shoes.
“How long does it take to get used to walking in high heels when you’ve been in flip-flops for a decade?” she asked.
“Two weeks,” Susan said instantly. She and Kellie had an ongoing game in which they delivered bogus answers with complete authority. It had started when one of the kids—Susan couldn’t remember which one—had asked where Santa went on summer vacation. “Australia,” Susan had said, at the exact moment Kellie had responded, “Bermuda.”
“You made that up. It’s already been five weeks. Now tell me the truth, is this outfit okay?” Kellie asked. “Does it say I’m trustworthy yet savvy, the sort of woman you need to buy a house from? Mia, honey, don’t pick that flower. It’s part of Mrs. Henderson’s garden.”
“Mom, I would never pick someone else’s flower. That would be illegal,” Mia huffed. Ten-year-old Mia had a dozen Girl Scout badges and was certified by the Red Cross as a mother’s helper, facts she didn’t so much tell people as accost them with.
“You look great,” Susan told Kellie honestly. She could see hints of the high school cheerleader Kellie had been in her heart-shaped face and thick blond hair. Kellie had been in the popular crowd, Susan knew, but she was one of the nice girls: the kind of teenager who’d ridden on a homecoming float, flashing a dimpled smile to the crowd, and whose yearbook pages were filled with notes from friends. Susan had had a very different experience in high school. She’d been one of only nine black students in her graduating class, and she’d spent most of her Friday nights with a book for company. (“You were class valedictorian, weren’t you?” Kellie had asked after Susan had slaughtered everyone in Scrabble on game night. “No!” Susan had protested, honestly. She’d been salutatorian.)
“Oh my gosh! Look!” Kellie said.
She grabbed Susan’s arm and pointed across the street, to the empty house with the SOLD! sign staked in the front lawn. Ever since Mrs. Brannon had died of cancer and her husband had moved into an assisted living facility, the Cape Cod had seemed lonely. Sure, the lawn was kept trimmed and the gutters were cleaned. But missing were all the little touches that had made it a home. Mr. Brannon’s polished walking stick was absent from its usual spot by the front door, and the flowerpots that had once held Mrs. Brannon’s begonias had been removed from the steps. The well-used wooden rocking chairs had disappeared from the porch. Now, though, the house was thrumming with activity, awakening again.
A silver minivan was parked in the driveway and a huge moving van laid claim to the curb, its back doors flung open. Three men were wrestling a couch down a ramp. The house’s windows were open, and a soccer ball lay in the front yard.
“I saw that couch in Crate and Barrel a while ago, but it was three thousand bucks, which guarantees Cole would spill grape juice on it the first day,” Susan said. “Didn’t you say they have a couple of kids? What are they doing with a three-thousand-dollar couch? In cream, no less?”
“Maybe they like to live dangerously,” Kellie said. “And look, they’re at the bus stop already. Tessa!”
Kellie gave a little jump as she waved, nearly turning her ankle as she landed.
“Did I say two weeks? I meant two months,” Susan said.
Tessa, who’d been standing at the bus stop flanked by her daughter and son, a little apart from the other families gathered there, was waving back. A tentative smile broke across her face. Tessa looked nervous, Susan thought. It was tough moving to a new town.
“You’re here!” Kellie said when they reached Tessa.
“We are,” agreed Tessa. She was a woman composed of edges, the sort a child might draw, Susan thought, taking in her blunt-cut hair, her sharp chin, and her straight, dark eyebrows. Tessa was enviably slender in her khakis and simple blue blouse. Susan made a mental note: No carbs or sugar today!
“We got into town this weekend,” Tessa was saying. “We’ve been staying at the Marriott but we’ll be in the house tonight since the furniture just arrived.”
“I’m Susan Barrett. Welcome to the neighborhood,” Susan said, offering her hand. “How old are your kids?”
“Bree is nine,” Tessa said, touching her daughter’s head. “And Addison just turned seven.”
Both kids had that scrubbed, first-day-of-school look. New clothes with the creases still showing, combed hair, clean backpacks. Except Addison was trying to hide a fat, wiggling worm in his pocket. That detail alone made her sure that he and Cole would become fast friends.
“Great names,” Kellie said. “And Addison’s the same age as Noah and Cole! Who’s his teacher?”
“Um . . . Miss Klopson, I think?” Tessa said.
“That’s who Noah and Cole have!” Susan said.
“That’s wonderful,” Tessa said. But her smile seemed to require an effort. Her expression, like her voice, was flat—almost restrained. Was she sick? Or maybe she was just wiped out from the move, Susan thought.
There was a little awkward pause, then Mia tugged on Kellie’s arm. “Can I interview them?” she asked.
“Oh,” Kellie said to Tessa. “Sorry, Mia writes the ‘Kids’ Corner’ column for our neighborhood newsletter. Would you mind if she asked you a few quick questions?”
“Um . . . sure?” Tessa said. She tucked her hair behind her ears and frowned. Mia was already digging into her backpack for her official reporter’s steno notebook and pen.
Mia cleared her throat and uncapped her pen. “First question,” she said. Some of the other parents and kids turned at the sound of her voice ringing out. “WHY did you move here?”
Tessa staggered back, as if she’d been pushed.
“What?” she whispered.
Kellie stepped forward, steadying Tessa by her arm. “Are you okay?” she asked. “You look like you’re about to faint.”
“I’m fine,” Tessa said. “I didn’t—I didn’t eat any breakfast.”
“Here,” Kellie said. She dug in her purse and came up with the granola bar she’d been unsuccessfully pushing on her kids. “Try this.”
“Is she going to get paid for eating it?” Cole wanted to know.
“Shh,” Susan said. She grabbed Cole’s water bottle from his backpack and offered it to Tessa. He could drink from the fountains for a day.
Tessa took a small sip. “That’s better. I was just dizzy for a moment, but it passed.”
“I need to ask my ‘w’ questions,” Mia insisted. “Who, what, where, why, and when.”
“Mia, quiet,” Kellie said.
Tessa didn’t look better, Susan thought. She was still ashen. It was a good thing Kellie hadn’t let go of her arm.
Susan was about to suggest that Tessa sit down when a little boy shouted, “Bus! Bus!”
Parents exploded into activity, kissing children, retying loose shoelaces, shouting reminders about piano lessons and soccer practice, and waving as the kids climbed aboard. Susan touched her index finger to the corner of her eye, then her heart, then pointed it at Cole. I. Love. You. She saw his smile through the bus window, then the vehicle lumbered away, belching a cloud of exhaust. The group of parents echoed the noise with an equally loud sigh of relief. They peeled away, heading to the blissful quiet of their offices or homes.
“Are you up to walking?” Kellie asked Tessa. “We can wait here with you if you’re still shaky.”
“No, really, I’m much better now,” Tessa said. “I should get back and check on the movers.”
“Well, we’re heading in the same direction, so we’ll give you all the neighborhood gossip on the way,” Kellie said. “You wouldn’t believe the scandals. The intrigue!”
Susan punched Kellie in the arm. “She’s kidding. We’re actually quite boring.”
“Sadly, it’s true,” Kellie said. “Well, we do have our ladies-only Wine and Whine night, and that tends to inspire some unexpected confessions, but other than that we’re a pretty tame bunch.”
“You’ll have to join us at the next one,” Susan said. “It’s Gigi’s turn to host, and she’s your next-door neighbor.”
“Have you met her yet?” Kellie asked. “She’s the one with the Susan Sarandon vibe? Picture Thelma just before she and Louise drove off that cliff. Gigi’s husband, Joe, is running for Congress in the special election—our congressman resigned because of a sex scandal with a prostitute, you might’ve heard—and Joe’s always busy campaigning so you probably won’t see him much, but Gigi’s really great.”
Tessa gave them a faint smile. “Well,” she said, “here’s my house.” She handed the superhero water bottle back to Susan. “Thank you again.”
Susan watched as Tessa walked up the front steps and disappeared inside.
“I repulsed her, didn’t I?” Kellie asked. “I always babble too much.”
“No, you’re charming,” Susan said. “I bet she’s getting the flu.”
“So what did you think of her?” Kellie asked as they resumed strolling.
“A spotless beige couch with two kids?” Susan said. “It screams ‘control freak,’ but I’m reserving judgment.”
“She seems . . . pleasant, I guess,” Kellie said. “But shy. She was like that when I met her at the open house, too.”
Susan shrugged. “Busy day today?” she asked.
“Sadly, no,” Kellie sighed. “I don’t have a single listing yet. I earned a little something for helping with the Brannons’ house, but I wasn’t the main agent on it. I’ve been working for a solid month and I’ve barely recouped the costs I spent to get licensed and for my business cards.”
“You’re just starting out,” Susan said. “It’ll take time.”
“I guess,” Kellie said. “How long did it take you? I mean before your business really exploded?”
“Oh, a little while,” Susan said vaguely. She didn’t want to tell her friend that her company, Your Other Daughter, had been an instant success. Susan’s idea for a part-time job coordinating services for the elderly, like taking them to doctors’ appointments or visiting them in nursing homes, had somehow grown into a booming franchise in four states. Early on, there had been an article about her in Black Enterprise magazine, and then a write-up in the Duke alumni magazine, which had helped launch her company. Now she had a syndicated weekly radio show in which she dispensed advice about elder care to callers. She gave speeches at five hundred dollars a pop. Even Mr. Brannon had become one of her clients; she’d helped the widower sort through his accumulated decades of belongings and choose an assisted living center. She visited Mr. Brannon every week to make sure he was comfortable. That service was off the books; Mr. Brannon, with his courtly manners and sad smile, had a special place in her heart. He seemed so alone in the world.
“I’ll spread rumors about asbestos at Wine and Whine night, to get the neighbors we don’t like to move away, and then I can sell their houses,” Kellie said.
“Great idea,” Susan said. “I’ll bring a few bottles of Chardonnay. Last time Gigi ran out.”
“Maybe she didn’t think it would be good for her husband’s congressional campaign to have a dozen drunk women lurching out of his house,” Kellie mused.
“Oh, come on, it never hurt Bill Clinton,” Susan said. “How’s this for a plan: we’ll get Tessa drunk and she’ll spill all her deep, dark secrets.”
“I’m in,” Kellie said, laughing.
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Sarah Pekkanen
Sarah Pekkanen is the #1 New York Times bestselling co-author of four novels of suspense including THE GOLDEN COUPLE and THE WIFE BETWEEN US, and the solo author of the thriller GONE TONIGHT, will be published Aug. 1, 2023. Colleen Hoover says it is "Riveting, original and powerful. I'm a huge fan of Sarah Pekkanen's books, and GONE TONIGHT is her best yet!"
Sarah is also the author of eight USA Today and internationally-bestselling solo novels: THE OPPOSITE OF ME, SKIPPING A BEAT, THESE GIRLS, THE BEST OF US, CATCHING AIR, THINGS YOU DON'T SAY, THE PERFECT NEIGHBORS and THE EVER AFTER. Her books have been translated into dozens of languages.
In her free time, Sarah is a dedicated volunteer for rescue animals and serves as Ambassador for RRSA India, working hands-on to vaccinate and heal street dogs in Anand, India. She also volunteers weekly for a horse rescue group in Maryland, mucking stalls and helping mistreated horses heal.
Sarah lives just outside of Washington, D.C. with her family. Please follow Sarah on Facebook and Instagram @sarahpekkanen and visit www.sarahpekkanen.com
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Customer reviews
3.9 out of 5
1,902 global ratings
Jodie W.
5
I'm a Sarah Pekkanen fan and this latest book did not disappoint!
Reviewed in the United States on July 11, 2016
Verified Purchase
I was hooked on Sarah Pekkanen's books from the first one I read. After reading that first book I bought all of the others and devoured them. I was excited to learn that The Perfect Neighbors was coming and I pre-ordered it as soon as it was available. I read this book in a day, and that is a rarity in my world. I read it on my back deck until there was no more light, read it in the tub until the steamy water went cold, and made the kids fend for themselves for food...no worries, they are old enough to fend!
The Perfect Neighbors was that good. The thing I love about Sarah's books is that you can relate to the characters and the women in this book are no different. Each has a seemingly perfect life and lives in a seemingly perfect community where all streets are named for flowers. This gives it a Wisteria Lane, Desperate Housewives feel but in a much more believable way. Each woman has a secret but Pekkanen doesn't spill the dirt too soon. Instead she weaves each woman's story gradually, which is why I couldn't put it down. I was invested and wanted to know what was coming next. There is a sadness in some of the women's stories but there is hilarity too. Every chapter starts with a neighborhood daily email digest and they are hysterical! Some had me laughing out loud because I live in a subdivision and the digest called out behavior I see often...such as a running dialog on neighbors who allow their dogs to poop on neighbor lawns without cleaning it up. Then there is the neighbor who takes it upon herself to answer everyone.
If you are a Sarah Pekkanen fan, you will not be disappointed in her newest book. If you aren't familiar with Sarah's books, give this one a try. You won't be disappointed!
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SherryDahling
5
Pekkanen Perfection!
Reviewed in the United States on July 9, 2016
Verified Purchase
Considering my one neighbor mows the lawn in his underwear while the opposing side's couple enjoys making love in their outdoor hammock LOUDLY in the wee hours of the evening, I was intrigued by the idea of "The Perfect Neighbors". Does such a thing exist? I did not think so and therefore in my mind this was already a masterpiece of modern fiction.
As I filled my glass of wine and settled in to my deck chair to read, I marveled over the lovely cover. Front and center was the requisite faceless woman that is on the cover of all of Ms. Pekkanen's novels. This one was different in that she was peering over the hedges. Ooh! A peeper! Immediately I was intrigued. What was so salacious on the other side of the hedge that got her attention? Was she not afraid of getting caught? Aha! Now we had a brazen peeper. Could this get any better? My hopes were high. Also, who did her blowout? The model's hair was Pantene commercial worthy. I gazed at the glossy locks finding myself impressed with the hair stylist's mad skills.
Folicle envy aside, I finally began the book with the hope that it would provide a brief momentary escape from the humdrum of my everyday existence. By the end of the first chapter, I was hooked and the day's troubles were all but a distant memory. I was now happily ensconced in Newport Cove and was no longer subject to the memory of Mr. Bulging Belly mowing the lawn at 5 a.m. in his BVD's. What kept me hooked you ask? I really don't want to go into plot details because frankly, if you need them there are many other reviews besides mine that will go into it a lot more eloquently than I ever could. All I know is that the wine was flowing, the pages were turning and time was flying. Could you really describe a more ideal evening? Ahem. A more REALISTIC ideal evening? (Tuck those Ryan Gosling fantasies away you Pekkafan)
Anyway, I read the book from beginning to end in one evening since I was unable to put it down. The storyline kept me hooked and the list serv excerpts at the beginning had me laughing out loud so much that it gave my amorous neighbor performance anxiety. For once I did not have to tell my children that the shrieking sounds coming from next door was the neighbor's cat. The book paid for itself right then and there if you ask me.
So grab "The Perfect Neighbors" for a beach read or for one of those days when you require some much needed 'me' time. I've read all of Ms. Pekkanen's books and this by far is her best. Enjoy (and please stay out of the hammock #28). Thanks.
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7 people found this helpful
Fluff Smut & Murder
5
Yet another great one from Sarah pekkanen
Reviewed in the United States on September 24, 2016
Verified Purchase
Sarah Pekkanen’s writing gets better and better with each new novel. I seriously heart her and look forward to getting a new story from her every year. I love how its never the same type of character from book to book and now to have a married with children Desperate Housewives tale – what a joy!
What I loved: My favorite part of each present-day chapter was the ListServ messages at the start. These messages gave such insight into the comings and goings of the community more than a tweet ever could. How I wish Reese was one of the characters ! Her life would be terrific to peek into because if I were her, I would just be in a ball in the corner drinking myself into a stupor.
What I didn’t love: I know that all great books cannot go on forever and ever (with the exception of Sweet Valley High since that series never ended) but the ending seemed a little abrupt to my liking. I was hoping for just a little more about Tessa’s backstory – maybe a juicy confrontation or something. It just wrapped up a little too cleanly and quickly.
What I learned: My secrets are still way better than yours….
Overall Grade: A-
[...]
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4 people found this helpful
Lee Cooper
4
Newport Cove is the setting and the folks who live here are very happy as they are considered one of the twenty safest ...
Reviewed in the United States on July 18, 2016
Verified Purchase
This is the first book I have read by this author and I have to say I am impressed. Newport Cove is the setting and the folks who live here are very happy as they are considered one of the twenty safest neighbourhoods in the United States, quite an honour they think. The story evolves around four women, Susan, Gigi, Tessa and Kellie and I grew to really care about these characters as the book progresses. What really happens at home compared to the face we put on each day to go out and see the world? this is not a perfect world as the residents would like you to think and there are many secrets and twists and turns as the story moves along. We all tend to look at others at times and wish for what they have but in doing so we may discover that things are not as rosy as we think. A great read and I would recommend highly recommend this book
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5 people found this helpful
Cammieoh
4
Delicious!
Reviewed in the United States on September 3, 2023
Verified Purchase
Pekkanen brings this story to life with her spot on characterizations. I loved reading the secrets of these women in the perfect neighborhood!
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