When crime novelist Phoebe opens the post and receives an invitation to her own funeral she's horrified. Not least because the date of her death is marked as tomorrow. Deciding it's nothing more than a prank from an enemy from her past she determines to put it to the back of her mind. But the next morning when her completely infuriating postman (who likes to think himself her no.1 literary critic) rings her doorbell a parcel of poisoned pen-nibs explodes in his face. Forced to confront the fact her correspondence is more RIP than RSVP Phoebe realises someone must want her dead.