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“It’s a weird, funny, disturbing fever dream of a novel, and I love every word of it,” L.M. Gilmore tells PEOPLE
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PEOPLE can share the cover and an exclusive excerpt from L.M. Gilmore’s upcoming dark comedy, This Is Why We Don’t Date Serial Killers
The novel follows a girl named Roxie who finds herself falling in love with a cold-blooded killer, Max Ruscombe, after narrowly escaping death
Gilmore tells PEOPLE that the book’s characters “get under your skin and stay there”
L.M. Gilmore is unleashing her dark and twisty alter ego in her forthcoming novel.
PEOPLE has an exclusive look at This Is Why We Don’t Date Serial Killers, which chronicles the story of a girl named Roxie who finds herself falling in love with a cold-blooded killer, Max Ruscombe, after narrowly escaping death and making it her mission to track down her rescuer — even if it means putting herself in danger.
Despite identifying countless red flags and being kidnapped, Roxie is convinced that all Max needs is a woman’s touch. After all, he isn’t the kind of killer that murders innocent people. Rather, he spends his life hunting the men who give murder a bad name.
“Every author has that book — the one that just sort of pours out in a frenzy of late nights and marathon writing sessions, where the characters take up residence inside your brain and refuse to leave until you reach the end,” Gilmore tells PEOPLE. “This Is Why We Don’t Date Serial Killers is that for me. It’s a weird, funny, disturbing fever dream of a novel, and I love every word of it.”
Giving “touch her and die” a new meaning, Max and Roxie discover that dating in the modern world can be quite difficult when one person is a sociopath and the other longs for a happily ever after — no matter who she has to stab along the way.
“Is it a little unsettling that it took a sociopathic serial killer for me to tap into this part of myself? Probably,” Gilmore quips. “But once you meet these characters, you’ll see what I mean. They get under your skin and stay there, and I can’t wait to unleash them on the world. Just avoid the blood spatter, and you’ll be fine.”
Read an excerpt from This Is Why We Don’t Date Serial Killers below.
In the grand scheme of the world, I, Roxanne Mary Jane Jones, would never amount to much. My family lines were trashy, my education spotty, my morality questionable. I’d let myself be captured by what was possibly the least impressive serial killer in the history of serial killing, and I’d done it without a scrap of dignity.
But if there was one thing I knew how to do, it was to go down fighting.
“Cece’s right, Jimmy boy,” I called, deliberately enunciating each syllable of his name.
“You shouldn’t kill her first. You should take me. Didn’t you know? I’m a bleeder. The stuff pumps out of me like an over-tapped beer keg.”
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Instead of reacting to this the way I expected — by immediately springing up from his rotted armchair and giving me the opportunity I needed to wrap this linen around his neck and squeeze until one of us was dead — Jimmy gave a low, sultry chuckle.
Wait. A low, sultry chuckle?
I faltered but didn’t back down. The way I figured it, I had exactly one opportunity to make this work, and since Jimmy outweighed me by, well, an over-tapped beer keg, I needed to keep my momentum going.
“My arterial spray is going to rock your world, baby,” I cooed in an effort to bring him closer. “One stab, and you’ll be wearing me like the crown jewels.”
The laugh sounded again, even louder this time. It also, I noted, wasn’t coming from Jimmy’s direction. If I wasn’t mistaken, it sounded like it was coming from—
“I hate to intrude, but you two seem to be in a tight spot,” a deep, cultured voice said from the direction of a utility door near the back of the trailer. “Might I offer my assistance?”
As a tall, broad-shouldered figure unpeeled from the shadows and stepped into the ambient light of the television screen, I let out a gasp.
Cece, predictably, screamed.
But it was Jimmy “LadyKiller” Langdon who reacted the strongest.
Maybe it was the fact that the shadow man showed no sign of discomposure as he stepped forward with a hunting knife of his own clutched in his elegant black leather glove, or maybe it was the way a dark mask covered the upper half of his face, making him look like an extremely hot Zorro cosplayer, but Jimmy took one look at him and immediately bolted for the door.
“They always run.” The man heaved a sigh and, without ruffling a single strand of his dark, slicked-back hair, threw his knife across the room.
His throw was accurate to an uncanny degree. As Jimmy turned to yank open the door, the knife hit him square in the center of his chest. The blade slid in with a soft thud, sending both Jimmy and my entire worldview reeling.
I tried not to shiver, I really did, but I couldn’t help myself.
At that moment, with Jimmy falling to the floor and blubbering curses like the devil himself had come to claim his due, I knew I’d finally met my match.
Copyright © 2027 by L. M. Gilmore
This Is Why We Don’t Date Serial Killers will be published on Jan. 26, 2027, and is now available for preorder, wherever books are sold.
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