A spicy, small-town sapphic romance with a delicious opposites-attract slow-burn, and a scene-stealing cat.

Eve O’Kelly is the kiss of death.

Not literally. She’s never actually killed anyone. But kiss her, and within forty-eight hours you’ll be in a freak accident. By day, she sells crystals, incense, and hand-poured candles. By night, it’s another lonely evening in with the cat. But after her exes racked up broken bones, twisted ankles, and one memorable ER visit, Eve is protecting the world from her lips.

Private investigator Sloane Wright doesn’t believe in curses. But she does believe in the FBI consulting career that’s finally within reach, if she can prove the pretty shop owner peddling “magic rocks” is at the center of a string of fraudulent injury lawsuits. But the more time she spends with the sparkly shop owner, the harder it gets to ignore the one complication her career can’t survive: she’s falling for the woman she’s supposed to take down.

Neither of them should want this. And even if they give in to it, can they build anything lasting longer than forty-eight hours?