Part of Series
Honey, Does This Taste Like Poison To You? I've never been a fan of murder. The mess, the smell, the whole hiding the body thing after - it always seemed like way too much work. But trust me, when you're married to Richard Morningstar, that "work" starts to feel an awful lot like "play". The man is a snake and king of the fairies. A barbarian. A war monger. A sex god. Uh, I mean a...an ex pod? Doesn't matter. The point is, it's either him or me. Because one of us is going to die, and at the moment, it's my execution scheduled in three weeks. So I just have to figure out a way to kiss him - kill him - before then, take his throne, and turn his whole nightmarish kingdom upside down. Easy right? Maybe - if he wasn't my lifemate. And if my panties didn't drop every time he snapped his stupid fingers.
Author
Miranda Grant is not a serial killer. As an author of fantasy and paranormal romance, she just needs to know some things, like how many dead babies can fit in a bathtub (34, 52.5 if blended), what human meat tastes like (dry pork), how to get away with murder (it’s really hard to tell the difference between a drowning accident and a drowning murder, just saying), etc. This non-serial killer lady lives with her partner, who often drags her outside, claiming ‘sunlight is necessary’ and ‘social interactions are a good thing’. Given her questionable search history, she goes along with it, thinking it’ll be better to have less ‘aloof serial killer vibes’ should the police ever knock on her door…
