The grim reaper took a vacation. Now all hell is breaking loose.

With an existential crisis looming over his head, Asher needs a break from reaping souls. But when he leaves his door to the underworld unattended, one escaped ghost threatens to turn the French Quarter into a haven for the hell-bound.

Oh, and that crisis he was trying to escape? Her name is Jasmine Lee, and she could be the death of him.

The literal death of Death. Yep. You heard that right.

There’s no such thing as too dead when it comes to necromancer Jasmine Lee.  She’s never met a ghost she can’t tame, but when a thousand ornery spirits descend upon New Orleans, her secret weakness is a recipe for phantasmal disaster.

Holy ghost guts. She’s in trouble.

The unfairly hot reaper is the last person Jasmine wants to work with. But if she doesn’t help Asher wrangle the lost souls back to the underworld, there will be hell to pay.


Enjoy a smoldering brush with Death in this fast, fun romantic comedy.

What readers are saying:

"A romantic comedy filled with surprises, romance, and amazing characters." ~Paranormal Romance Guild

"I found it engagingly sweet, also sexy and comical." ~Amazon Reviewer

"Chaos, drama, adventure, danger, laugh-out-loud humor and romance ensue making for one amazingly addictive read. A fun and twisted look at (Death and) love." ~Amazon Reviewer

"Once again, Carrie Pulkinen has knocked it out of the park! There is plenty of witty, wonderful banter, ghost hunters, and a reaper who just wanted a vacation." ~Amazon Reviewer

"This is a brilliant series and each book that comes along just seems to get better and better." ~Amazon Reviewer



“Jasmine Lee, necromancer extraordinaire, at your service. There’s no such thing as too dead when it comes to me. Did you know there’s never been a soul I couldn’t call back from across the bridge?” She paused and tilted her head. “Let me clarify, there’s never been a soul I couldn’t grab that didn’t make a deal with the Devil before they died. If Satan owns them, no one can call them back, so those people don’t really count.”

Those were the ones she had to catch before that damn, meddling, unfairly hot reaper snatched them away and ferried them off to the underworld. He’d ripped one too many souls from her grasp, making a mockery of her in front of her employers, and she would never forgive him for that.

Trace cleared his throat.

“Right. Focus, Jazz.” She shook her arms, loosening herself up to make the connection with the other side. “Y’all ready for this?”

“As we’ll ever be,” he said through clenched teeth.

Jasmine took a deep breath, opening her channel to the spirit world. Her chest warmed, a sensation not unlike heartburn tightening beneath her breastbone, but instead of the burning, fizzing feeling reaching upward like she’d eaten a pound of extra-spicy crawfish, it descended into her stomach, filling her core with warm, effervescent magic.

Placing her hand on the dead guy’s forehead, she absorbed his essence and shuffled through the energy of the spirit world, searching for his soul. “Oh, this is too easy. He hasn’t even crossed the bridge yet.”

In her mind, she reached out, clutching the energy that matched the body and shoving it into the corpse. There was no gentle way to do this. She’d tried delicately placing the soul on top of the body, allowing it to seep in slowly in the hope of minimizing the shock for her patients.

It never worked. The only way to fuse a soul with a corpse was to shove it in there like an angry housewife stuffing a turkey while her mother-in-law stood behind her, criticizing her every move. With the spirit firmly planted inside the body, she stepped back and waited. 

This was the exciting part. 


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