Emma Bradshaw: Unhappy widow, bored school teacher, aspiring writer.  Emma doesn’t know it, but she’s about to be touched by an angel—in more ways than one.

Ted “Mac” McNabb: Best-selling author in life, reluctant Apprentice Angel in death.  Mac just wants to finish his missions and move on to his Personal Heaven—and he doesn’t care how many rules he has to break to get there. 

Can Mac earn Emma’s trust and point her in the right direction to meet her destiny–without incurring the wrath of Gabriel and ending up in Angel exile?  





“I see dead people.” The whispered, somewhat embarrassed words of a child from a popular movie several years back echoed dully in Emma’s mind. Squeezing her eyes shut, she took a deep breath, counted to ten before opening them again and…the dead man was still there.  Shaking her head to clear it didn’t make him disappear, squinting only made him a tad blurry, and tilting her head to either side like a curious dog just made her dizzy.  No matter what she did, he remained right where he was, leaning with studied nonchalance against the wall beside the newspaper rack in KC’s, arms and ankles crossed, smiling at her like she was the answer to all his prayers. 

“I see dead people.”  The child’s voice was insistent now with a slight plea as if begging her to believe him.  A shiver ran up her spine.  She believed, oh how she believed.  It was a chillingly accurate statement as far as she was concerned. 

The dead man cleared his throat then looked over at the papers. Oh, man, I heard that

Wrapping both hands around the steaming cup of coffee, she reveled in the heat as she studied the…apparition.  I’m one up on you, kid.  I not only see dead people, I hear them too. 

He looked up and gifted her with a charming smile then went back to perusing the headlines on that day’s Portland Press Herald. 

He doesn’t seem to know he’s dead.  Should I tell him?  If I do, will he disappear?  Just Poof!  Could it be that easy to get rid of him? He lifted his eyes, frowned at her then shook his head as if he knew what she was thinking. 

Jiminy Christmas, did he know what she was thinking? He winked, straightened away from the wall, and walked in her direction. Yikes!  Dead man walking!  She heard him laugh then the air around him seemed to shimmer and shift as he passed through a rack of candy bars—directly through it as if he were made of nothing more than smoke—and the old Almond Joy/Mounds commercial ran through her mind, “Sometimes I feel like a nut, sometimes I don’t.” 

Ye gods, it was official.  Emma Bradshaw, bored elementary school teacher, depressed widow, aspiring young-adult novelist, just tripped the light fantastic, took to the air and flew around the bend into La-la land.