I’m a prosecutor, not a killer—or at least, I didn’t use to be.
Now I’m armed with a pink killing kit, a growing body count, and two crushes I can’t choose between.

The worst part? I’m falling for both of them.
Turns out, justice isn’t just blind—it’s a whole lot messier than I ever imagined.

*****

This is fine. Everything’s fine.

I’m Poppy Hartwell—sex crimes prosecutor by day, reluctant serial killer by... well, technically accident.
To be fair, he attacked me first.

It started when another rapist walked free.
It ended with mom’s hand-me-down knife, his throat slashed, and a stray dog peeing on his corpse.

Now I’ve got a body count, a fluffy murder accomplice named Dexter, and a problem.

Someone saw me kill him.
Worse? They liked it.

My stalker doesn’t just watch—he helps. Cleans up my messes. Leaves notes. Sends tips. You know… for next time.

Things go from bloody to worse when I’m assigned to a secret human trafficking task force led by Detective Declan Blackwood—the man I’ve had a secret crush on for years but would literally rather choke than talk to. He’s being framed. It’s top secret. And now we’re working side by side while I try not to picture his mouth on mine.

Because here’s the thing—I’ve never been kissed.
And now I have two dangerously unhinged options willing to claim that first taste.

Caught between a detective I’ve always wanted and a stalker who always seems to know what I need…
And with bodies piling up, I’m starting to realize:
I don’t want to be saved. I want to finish what I started.

Packed with bloodstained secrets, morally questionable foreplay, and a Shichon with a bladder control problem, That Time I Accidentally Became a Serial Killer is the unhinged dark romcom you didn’t know you needed.