A Haunting Story with a Heartbeat

It’s not every day you pick up a memoir that pulls you into the chilling orbit of one of America’s most notorious criminals, yet still manages to feel deeply human. Kerri Rawson’s A Serial Killer’s Daughter does exactly that. As the daughter of Dennis Rader—the infamous BTK killer—Rawson could have written a book that was all shock and gore. Instead, she chooses to share her personal journey of grappling with betrayal, rebuilding faith, and making peace with the past. The result is a story that feels less like true crime spectacle and more like a powerful testament to resilience.

The Story Behind the Scars

The book begins with the moment Rawson’s life was upended: the FBI knocking on her door to tell her the impossible truth—that her father was the BTK killer who had terrorized Wichita, Kansas, for decades. From there, she recounts the duality of her childhood, growing up with a dad who seemed ordinary, even loving, while hiding horrific crimes from his family. The memoir takes readers through her shock, grief, anger, and eventual attempts to reconcile the man she loved with the monster the world knew. Along the way, Rawson also reflects on her faith, her family bonds, and her ongoing struggle to carve out a sense of peace in the shadow of her father’s crimes.

More Than Just True Crime

What makes this memoir stand apart is its heart. Rather than focusing on grisly details, Rawson explores themes of forgiveness, survival, and the complexity of family ties. She writes with honesty but also with compassion—for herself, for her loved ones, and even in her attempts to process the legacy of her father. Readers who come expecting a sensationalized true crime account may be surprised to find a story that is equal parts memoir, spiritual journey, and emotional recovery. It’s raw and vulnerable, yet hopeful in ways you wouldn’t expect.

Why It’s Worth Reading

A Serial Killer’s Daughter is a brave and moving book, one that gives a voice to someone often overlooked in true crime stories: the family of the criminal. Kerri Rawson’s willingness to be open about her pain and healing makes the memoir not just gripping, but also relatable for anyone who has faced betrayal or carried the burden of a complicated family history. It’s a reminder that behind every headline lies a web of human lives forever altered. For readers who want more than just the facts of a case—for those who want to understand the personal fallout and the slow climb toward redemption—this book is absolutely worth your time.