Blake laughs. “You want to hear something gross? You should hear about the first . . . no, the second time I met Zoey. She was elbows-deep in a human body. A real one.”

I freeze, knowing that my primary concern was not talking about work today so I didn’t freak anyone out. But Miles looks enamored and Fernanda leans in, her voice intrigued. “Really? That’s awesome.”

Maybe I have found a new family after all. And I’ll do anything to keep them safe. I touch my necklace for luck, but it’s out of habit more than superstition. Blake catches me and takes my hand, kissing my fingertips. “Zoey tells it better than I do, but I’ll warn you . . . the story makes me look like a desperate ass.”

“Tell me everything,” Amy demands. “Because I know he’s a desperate ass.”

“Well, it all started when he hit me with his car.” I shoot Blake a grin, but he doesn’t dare correct me this time, even though we both know I hit him and then tried to scare him off by grossing him out when he came to the morgue.

I’m really glad he didn’t give up that easily.

I’m even more thankful that he took the time to show me that I can be Drop-Dead Gorgeous and not have people dropping dead around me all the time.

Death is what I do, life is what he does, but the important thing is that together, we’ll make every day we have the best it can be.

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed Zoey and Blake’s story. If so, make sure you check out the bonus chapter, available here. Check in with Zoey & Blake and Holly & Jacob in the future!

If you loved Drop Dead Gorgeous, make sure you check out my book The Dare (standalone) and My Big Fat Fake Wedding (3 book series)! Read on for an excerpt of My Big Fat Fake Wedding.

Excerpt: My Big Fat Fake Wedding

Violet—Five Months Ago

This can’t be happening. He can’t be leaving me.

Not now.

Not ever.

My heels click across the hospital floor as I race down the hallway. I’m in such a panic, the words blaring over the PA system hardly register from the blood rushing through my ears in a dull roar.

“Code blue, room four! Code blue, room four!”

I nearly trip over my own feet as I break into a shuffling run, boomeranging for the nearest patient room. I swear my heart is going to explode when I spot the correct door and burst inside to see . . .

“Nana!” I exclaim as I see my grandmother, Angela Russo. She looks up from where she’s hovering like a hen over my grandfather. The scowl on her face highlights the parentheses of wrinkles around her lips, making her worry immediately apparent.