As a young girl I fantasized about my happily ever after. Little did I know that the “after” to define my story would be the afterlife . . .
My name is Grace Cardiff. I was seventeen years old when my dad and I got into a fatal car crash. Don’t waste your time grieving for me; I’ve already done that and I am trying my best to move forward. Which I have to do at a rapid pace these days as I try to keep another teenager from pushing up daisies. Turns out Heaven has a lot more responsibilities than I thought.
Once I made it past the Pearly Gates and got the basic questions out of the way (What's the deal with Stonehenge? Is my dead dog here? Etc.) I found out I’m part of a minuscule percentage of humans with a soul qualified to serve as a Guardian Angel. That’s an incredibly big honor, especially considering the stakes. You see, there are certain souls meant to accomplish things on Earth that positively and significantly impact mankind. However, not all of these souls survive long enough to do what they are supposed to. That’s where Guardian Angels come in. We help those people stay alive and stay on track to make the world a better place.
Henry is my guy. My assignment, I mean. God hasn’t told me why he’s so important, but this kid is an ultra high priority and I need to keep him out of harm’s way. Tools in my arsenal for that: magical angel powers, a halo that one of these days I’ll get the hang of in training, and my inherent “goodness.” Working against me: the unpredictability of life . . . oh, and the demons down below that spend their time trying to foil angels when they’re not taking laps in lakes of fire.
But I can handle this . . . Yeah, it’s fine. How hard can it be to fend off demons and keep one teenage boy alive while I assume a new human body and identity on Earth?
Seriously. I’m genuinely asking because I am secretly freaking out here.