The first time was an accident.
 
The second? A public service.
 
Two people I’ve un-alived in as many days—trust me, my reasons are solid—and I think I’m just getting started.
 
One more makes me a serial killer. Albeit, a reluctantly celibate divorced killer on the fast track to forty, with two kids, a fledgling business, and an unjustified fondness for to-do lists. 
 
But, my ridiculously hot ex-husband—a homicide detective who fun fact, taught me everything I know about murder—is back in town and he can’t keep his hands off me. Not that I’m doing much to stop him. 
 
As long as I avoid catching feelings for him again and he avoids poking around these unexplained deaths, I should be fine. 
 
Totally fine. 
 
Probably.