It's Been a While

What is playing on the iPod? Bliss/I Don't Want to Know - Hinder

So my blog is apparently suing me for neglect. I am stepping away from writing for a wee bit and catching up on other things, like my blog. Since I last posted, I went back to the same wonderful writer's conference I went to last May (Backspace in Manhattan). I have a link to their website on here. Check them out. They are a fantastic resource for authors. I also joined Romance Writers of America. Ten years ago, if someone had asked me would I ever write romance, not only would I have scoffed at them, I would have used my favorite curse word multiple times in the conversation (hint, rhymes with duck:) Since September 2008, when my whole serious dip in the writing pool started, I have bought, borrowed and read around 300 books, ninety-eight percent of those being paranormal romances. I decided a serious investigation needed to happen into the genre since I had a dead guy named Jared hanging out in my head wanting out. Three-hundred is an estimate, probably a pretty close one but still, an estimate. On top of my sagging bookshelf is a pile of books that have not hit the mark with me, so I will either sell them or find a paperback exchange so they can find another home. There are only 12 of those. I can tell you that I bought a version of a book on Kindle that was so offensively bad, I almost emailed Stephenie Meyer's webmaster to tell him to get a lawyer because there had to be some copyright infringement on the Twilight books. Not just copying, but awkwardly-bad copying. And I paid ten bucks for it. I still kick myself over that one.

That leaves over 275 books that I have loved. Not only loved, read them over. The whole Fabio-esque mystique that comes along with the romance genre is not entirely accurate. Several of my favorites would never fall into that category. JR Ward's series (both of them) are nothing like that and there is a heavily-involved plot involving people that are clothed. No horses on beaches for this girl. As a matter of fact, I have her latest release (came out on my birthday) on my shelf signed and personalized. If my home were to catch on fire, I would grab my children, my pictures and that book.

Jeaniene Frost is another one. I bought Halfway to the Grave on a whim, never expecting anything to come out of it. The next day, I was back at Barnes and Noble buying the rest of the series. If everything goes according to plan, I will actually get to meet Jeaniene in Orlando at the RWA National Conference next month. The books are nothing short of phenomenal and when I have my signed copy of her latest release, I will put that one on the shelf along side JR Ward's.

As far as my own writing goes, I am completing the third book in the Messenger series now. Book one is edited as much as my novice editing skills will allow. Book two needs round two of editing but the construction is done. Book three has been the most fun I have ever had writing. The characters are hard to let go of. I am really dreading typing The End. They do play heavy for the rest of the series. I think I have finally gotten over being a literary prude. I have thrown inhibitions to the side and dove head first into writing sex scenes. I had my husband read the big one from book three and he read with his eyes wide open. When he was done, he smiled from ear to ear and said "Damn, that's...that's...damn. That was impressive." Since my hubby primarily reads stuff that involves history and engineering, I took that as a complement.

I am signing off for now. My next post will not take as long. Until next time!

Milestones Reached

What is playing on the iPod? Hopeless by Breaking Benjamin

So, I've got a series in the works. It is about a Messenger named Jared. Book one, Redemption, is done from my end of things. I have poured over it, edited, checked details and done everything I can besides find agent representation (please, please, please let that be next on the list). Tonight, I checked my word count on book two, Absolution and found over 61,000 words. In other words, 235 pages. I did my little mental happy dance and starting thinking about things I could cut back because currently, I am constructing the end of the book and there is a lot to be said. I did things in reverse this time. Usually, the beginning of the book is my hardest part. This time, I am sweating the end the most because it is big...huge...did I mention big or huge?

I kill somebody major. Somebody that I knew in Redemption that I wanted around. I liked the character, so much so that I...never mind, plot spoilers for a book that does not have representation yet is probably not the smartest marketing ploy.

Book three, as yet untitled, has begun. I find myself working on Absolution and my mind is in the untitled book three. I have played out the scenes, reworked them how I want them and find myself with the manuscript pulled up and plugging away until I have the bones down on screen. So far, 5963 words - approximately 23 pages. The scary thing is that I already have an outline for book four in my head. Damn overactive imagination.

I am having so much fun, this should probably be illegal! Thankfully, its not and I can do this all day long.

Side note - the song just switched over to Already Gone by Crossfade. If you haven't checked these guys out, do so. My nine-year-old was singing along with the iPod today in the car. He is definitely mine. The 13-year-old asked me to buy GaGa from iTunes the other day. He is not mine, as evidenced by our musical differences. The fact that I gave birth to him is irrelevant here, thank you very much.

Now, I am off to buy New Moon. Yes, I am one of those people. Until next time!

More of Jared

What is playing on the iPod? Far Away by Nickelback

I am working on two things simultaneously - books two and three in the series that starts telling the story of Rebecca, Christian and Jared. As the series moves on to different books, Jared receives assignments for different people in need of various things. Like the title of the first book, Redemption, Christian and Rebecca are in need of that. The title for book two is Absolution. The tentative title for book three is Reconciliation. Jared is the constant. There are blurbs of characters from previous books during the entire series, as of right now, but Jared is a big player.

So I feel myself thinking about what his life, or lack thereof, was like between the time of his death and his walking into Rebecca's life two years later. In my head, these things have already played out. I am sharing a little bit of my gray matter fodder today.

This is another freebie, a bonus track of sorts. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoy giving life to Jared.




Tedium takes a whole new meaning when you deal with it in years. The guy who took me from the wreck makes regular appearances with different things I am supposed to do. Today is walk among public day. It is like when soldiers get pushed out of a plane over a jump site with their assignments. Only I do not have a parachute.

This should not be hard, technically, but I have not had a pulse for a while now. My God, how long has it been? I checked the newspaper on the bench and see that it is April 28, 2008. I died a year and a half ago. Somewhere between five and six hundred days.

A little contact with a guy, a nice guy but still, a guy, was not enough for me. I had to keep my eyes on the prize. The reason I was doing this.

Thinking about her made the tedium a little easier to bear. The smile curling at the edge of my lips stopped the instant I saw the woman. It could not be...could it? The height was right. The build was a little off, this woman was a little smaller than her but still...

If she would only turn around. Sweet Jesus, please turn around.

"Hey! Wait!"

She did not turn. Of course not, she did not hear me. So it could not be her. But she looks so much like her. That long black hair is falling in the exact spot on the shoulder blades.

Screw it, I am chasing her. If I am wrong, at least I tried. Picking up on a little bit of the speed that comes with not being able to get winded anymore, I ran like my life depended on it.

"Woah, did you feel that cold wind? It is supposed to be 75 today, where did that blast come from?"

I ignored the older woman talking to a man and hoped that no one else felt my presence. Somehow getting faster, I was unable to stop when the child stepped in my path. I ran right through the small boy. Skidding to a stop, I turned to see the effects of what just happened, praying that there were none. He was still, his hands stretched out by his sides and looking up. I walked around him where a woman was crouched in front of him.

"Aaron? What is wrong sweetie?"

The child turned and looked in my direction and astonished me by pointing.

"He wan froo me mommy."

The mother stared in the direction the boy was pointing and squinted her eyes. "Who ran through you sweetie. I do not see anyone."

"Him..." still pointing "wight dere."

Looking where I was standing one more time, she shook her head and bent over to pick the child up. "Okay Aaron, maybe we have watched Peter Pan one too many times." They walked away after the mother had settled the child on her hip. He held his hand up to wave.

"Bye!"

I held up my hand and waved at him. The boy smiled before resting his head on his mother's shoulder, getting slightly jostled as she made her way down the street. I turned back around and took off, a little more carefully this time, to follow the woman with the long black hair.

Just a glimpse. If she is this close, just a little glimpse would tide me over until my assignment is complete.

She was bent over in front of a flower stand, smelling a bunch of tulips. My steps slowed to a crawl. Her hair fell in waves over her face, blocking my view. I crept closer, each step taken nervously. This could actually be the first time I have seen her in over a year and a half. Dear God, can a dead man's palms sweat? I was close enough now that I could reach my arm out and touch her. I should have been able to smell her shampoo, her favorite that was in her bag on the way to our new apartment when we were killed.

The woman stood and tucked her hair behind her ear. Feeling like a deflated balloon, I took a few steps back. The woman was beautiful in her own rights but she was not the one I longed to see. The one I would see as soon as I settled things up with Rebecca.

Turning, I walked down the road in the direction I had come from. Looking up, I pleaded for patience and for time to speed up. How was I going to do this? I almost cracked when I saw a woman who looked like her. Taking an unnecessary breath in, I exhaled slowly, answering my own question. One step at a time, that was the only way I could do this. I took a step, and another, knowing that each step I took would get me closer to her.

Being Aggravated on a Saturday Sucks

What is playing on the iPod? All Over Me by Drowning Pool

I started this blog with the intent of furthering my writing. Today, I am utilizing my tiny portion of cyberspace to bitch. I have a couple of people in my life who I hold very dear that are gay. One of which I have only known for the past nine months yet I feel like he has been a dear friend my entire life. This particular friend has an opinion of organized religion that I completely agree with, but I fear that the religious zealots that use the name of God and Jesus to promote hate are winning out. That pisses me off to the nth degree. If one would chose to dive into researching God, they would find that yes, there are things that are frowned upon (check the 10 commandments) but at the end of the day, for all of our differences, we were all created by Him. I know that pisses people in the religious right off all day long but it is true. It is not just one small forgiven section of society that God loves. He loves us all.

I have been on my friend's Facebook page and periodically see evidence of how people hiding under the veil of religious integrity have left him jaded. No wonder. Aggravated? You better believe it. How dare anyone, and I mean anyone, judge someone else. We all sin, we all have committed acts we are going to have to answer for and I sure as hell do not want one of mine to be condemning anyone else. God knows I have enough other things I am going to have to account for.

Here is a suggestion. Anytime you want to spread the Word of God and the Gift of His Son, how about remembering that God loves us all. Regardless of geological location, ethnicity, sexual orientation, whatever. He loves us all.

I promise, the next one will be about writing. Yesterday, I managed to write 3500 words and I was so excited when I was done, I did not want to turn off my word processing program. That is when I know everything is going in the right direction. So have a wonderful, non-judgmental day.

Until next time.

Tossing a Freebie - More of Jared

Nothing is playing on the iPod - I am writing in silence. Write the date down, that does not happen often.

This is a freebie. I have been fairly involved in character development and Jared has a lot more story than what is told in Rebecca's story. So, I have started developing short stories to tell more of Jared's tale. I have said it before and thought it countless times - I would love for him to be real because he would be a great friend.

I hope you enjoy this little blurb into Jared's life, or unlife as it may be.




Getting to Know Jared

I have been dead for almost two years. The exact anniversary was a little over a month away. The otherwise uninformed would think that with no job restrictions, no bills sitting in the mailbox and no relatives to check in with, a person with this much freedom could float around anywhere. See the pyramids, the rainforests, Easter Island, watch the first sunrise of the day and the last sunset of the evening.

Ha.

Time really is a relative thing. On one hand, it seems like just a couple of blinks ago, I was being taken from the car at the accident scene to be told of my assignments, more specifically who my assignments are. On the other hand, I am only now starting direct work with the first assignment so I have felt every single nanosecond of those twenty-three odd months. Loneliness can make you feel every tick of the clock.

The time is close for me to meet Rebecca, my first assignment. Keeping that in mind, my spiritual liaison arranged for me to spend a day in public, about an hour away from my home so I would be less likely to run into someone I knew in life. That is how I find myself as a shadow dweller in Kiwanis Park in Sanford, North Carolina, approximately an hour away from Raleigh where I was living. Looking around at my surroundings, I started to laugh. I was standing under a tree with the protection of the shadows. Little good that would do me now, no one could see me even with the glare of the afternoon sun shining down. I stepped out from under the trees, still howling with laughter.

“What are you laughing at Mister?”

I stopped, staring wide eyed at the boy who was talking to me. Probably no more than 50 pounds soaking wet, he was standing a couple of feet away from two other children playing in the grass. I looked behind me and found nothing but trees. Turning my gaze back to the child, he was still standing there watching me. I pointed to myself before stooping down to his level.

“Are you talking to me?”

He looked around my shoulders and then back at me with his eyebrows scrunched together. “Well, who else is there? I don’t see anybody.”

Despite my bewilderment, I smiled at this child. Sandy blond hair, brown eyes that were as big as saucers, he was wanting an answer to his question.

“Nobody. There is nobody else there.”

He shrugged and reached down for his drink. “Yes sir, I am talking to you.”

I looked past the kid and his two friends, over to the women sitting on the bench. One of them looked like the female version of him, same hair color, same eye color, everything.

“Is that your mom?”

He looked back as if to double check who I was referring to. “Yep. My mom and two of her friends. We are supposed to be running off some energy so we will be tired when we go home after the movie, at least that is what I heard them say.”

This kid was funny. I was biting my lip to keep from laughing but I could not help it. I snickered a little bit.

“Go ahead and laugh, s’okay. My mom says I’m funny so I am used to it.”

Still snickering, I shook my head. “You are funny kid. Hey, what is your name.”

“Logan.”

“Like Wolverine?”

He grinned and I saw his big boy teeth were in on the top and he was still missing a couple on the bottom. “Yep, like Wolverine. Only I don’t have those claws. That would come in handy if I should ever have to save the day. Or keep my brother out of my room.”

I nodded. “Yeah, claws would keep those pesky brothers out.” I looked at the kids behind him. “Is that your brother?” I did not think so because the kid behind him had platinum blond hair that women pay hundreds of dollars a pop to get and he looked nothing like this Logan.

Logan shook his head, waving a hand. “Nah. That is Aiden. He is my friend. We wanted to bring our Legos out here but our moms said we would lose them.” He drawled out the last part with an irritated sneer to his voice.

“Your moms are right. Can you imagine dropping some of those really cool ones in the grass and not being able to find them? You could be out here for days looking for them.”

Logan nodded his head. “You are right. Hey, are you here with your kid?”

The smile faded as I shook my head. “No. My kid isn’t here with me.”

Logan opened his mouth to say something but turned to see who was walking up. The other boy, Aiden, was giving Logan a funny look.

“What are you doing? I thought we were playing.” Aiden looked at me and inclined his head. “Who is that?”

I stared with wide eyes, again. Why were they seeing me? Logan pointed. “That is…hey! You did not tell me your name.”

“My name is Jared. It’s nice to meet you Aiden.”

Aiden’s eyes got wide and he glared at Logan with his mouth open. “You told him my name? Dude! I do not know him and we are not supposed to talk to strangers. Oh man, are you gonna be in trouble!”

That made me feel good. They had been taught not to talk to strangers. I wondered what their moms would think about them talking to a dead guy. I needed to think quick to help get me and Logan both out of trouble.

“I am an imaginary friend.”

Aiden and Logan both looked at me with disbelief, responding at the same time.

“Yeah right.” “You are not!”

I nodded my head. “It is true. You guys can see me but the grown ups can’t.”

Aiden wanted proof. He turned around to the little girl behind them. “Hey Bella! Get over here!”

The little girl looked at Aiden and Logan as if deciding whether or not she wanted to walk over. She finally picked up the leaf she had been looked at and walked over. She could not have been any more than three, if even that. She looked up first at Logan, then at Aiden, tugging his shirt.

“Aiden.”

Aiden pointed at me. “Do you see him?”

The little girl, Bella, looked at me and then back at Aiden. She walked up to me and pointed at my arm. “You’re brown.”

You could not help but smile at her. Those wide blue eyes would have you wrapped before you even saw the smile. “Yes I am.” I turned to Aiden. “I think she sees me.”

The two boys looked at me for a moment before Logan spoke. “So grown ups can't see you?”

I shook my head. “Nope.”

Aiden and Logan stared at each other for a moment before turning around in unison and yelling. “Mama! Come here!”

All three of the women looked and immediately walked over, talking amongst themselves as they walked. I stayed crouched at kid level. The women reached us and who was which kids mom became obvious. Bella’s mom had the same blue eyes and the same colored hair. Aiden’s mom had the exact same facial expressions. Logan’s mom had the same smile. She spoke first.

“What’s up guys? Do you want something to drink?”

Logan and Aiden pointed at me but Aiden spoke. “Do you see anything there?”

The moms all looked at one another then to the area the two fingers were pointing at. Aiden’s mom answered. “I see a quarter someone dropped.” Logan’s mom cocked her head to the side and kept looking. “I see a granddaddy longlegs. Don’t step on him. They are supposed to be good luck.” Bella’s mom was running her fingers through Bella’s ponytail while she was looking, shaking her head. “Other than twigs and grass, nothing. What are we supposed to see?”

Logan and Aiden looked anxiously at one another. Aiden came to the rescue. “Nothing. It reminded us of an I Spy book and we wanted to see what you saw.”

Aiden’s mom looked at him. “Well, we certainly see no buttons, thimbles or kittens. Now finish playing, we only have thirty minutes before the movie starts.”

The kids all responded in unison. “Yes ma’am.” “Okay mom.” “Movie!”

The moms gave them one last look before walking back to the bench. The kids turned to me.

“See. Told you. Imaginary friends are invisible to grown ups.”

Logan’s eyes got wide again. “Hey! If you are our imaginary friend, could you sneak up to the North Pole and see what Santa has going on. Or tell him that we have been really good this year.”

I laughed as I looked up and saw someone between the kids and their moms, waiting on me to finish my conversation. “Not today guys. As a matter of fact, I have to go.”

The boys looked at me, Logan scratching his chin and Aiden tapping his foot.

“Will you be back here sometime soon?”

I looked down at Logan, wishing I could ruffle his hair but unsure of the effects of that. “I don’t know. But you guys better hurry. You don’t want to miss your movie.”

Aiden tapped Logan on the shoulder. “Yeah! We are going to be late if we don’t hurry. Let’s go!” The boys ran off to join Bella in grabbing the handful of toys they had left on the ground. The boys were faster and took off first, only stopping to turn around and grab Bella’s hands the best they could. I watched, mesmerized and a bit wistful at the life I did not get to take part in. The life of a father.

“Extraordinary, aren’t they?”

I looked at the man who came to get me the night I died. My spiritual liaison. We were standing watching the children run back up to their mothers who were gathering their empty drinks, toys and purses before heading to their cars.

“Yes they are.”

We stood in silence as we watched them pile into two separate cars and leave.

“Why here? Did you know I would be talking to them?”

He shook his head. “No Jared, I had no clue. It was explained to me that you needed to be in public around people for a while before you go meet Rebecca. You have followed her some, right?” I nodded. “And what did you think?”

“That she must have the constitution of a race horse.” At his bewildered expression, I continued. “The girl has gone through more coffee this week than the three interns I lived with, combined, in a month. This is going to be interesting, to say the least.”

He laughed. “That it will be.” He put his hand on my shoulder. “Come on Jared, let’s get you introduced to Rebecca.”

Nodding, I accepted the slight turn of my stomach that always comes with dematerialization. When I blinked my eyes, I was in the house I came to recognize at Rebecca’s. I had been in here a few times doing recon work, checking everything out. I walked over to the chair in front of the window and sat, crossing my right leg over my left, uncrossing, crossing my left leg over my right, uncrossing and repeating the process. Not sure of which leg I wanted in which direction, I settled for hands on knees, head on back of the chair.

I got up and walked through the house, willing a state of invisibility over myself so the cat would not see me. I knew from the first few times I had been in here that the cat did not respond too well to me. However, he could not see me when I placed the metaphysical veil over myself. Wanting to avoid the screeching, I did just that.

I heard the roar of an engine. That is something else I have learned. When someone pulls a 2008 Mustang Shelby at speeds Rebecca liked to drive at, the engine roars. Walking back to the chair, I sat as I heard the clang of keys. The cat was asleep in the chair across the room, oblivious to me being here. I watched Rebecca walk in the room and turn her laptop on. She was probably somewhere around five feet five inches with long brown hair and green eyes. The only jewelry she wore was a single earring in each earlobe and one at the top of each ear. Nothing more than that which was odd for the daughter of a someone who owned one of the largest jewelry franchises on the east coast. Nothing she wore would give away the fact that she inherited the fortune her father gained off of that franchise. Rebecca McLeod could literally live off the interest from the money for the rest of her life and still have enough left over, just from the interest, to be philanthropic.

Still, she worked. It showed something about her character.

She also lived in this relatively normal three bedroom home with no luxuries. Other than a TV some movie theaters were be jealous over along with surround sound and a blue ray set up, she had no luxuries. Plain blue jeans, plain shirts, no jewelry. No one would suspect she was loaded to the extent that she was. No one would suspect that she had money at all.

Slipping the veil back, I edged myself forward on the seat, elbows resting on knees and prepared myself for Rebecca seeing me. At the best, we would get along famously and I could be on to my next assignment. At the worst, she could break out the salt, holy water or any other thing that legends would make her believe to work. Only one way to find out. As she was nearing the door, I made a noise, scaring the cat away and making her gasp. Here goes nothing.

Until next time!

What is playing? Gotta Be Somebody by my favorite Canadians, Nickelback

Here are the first 23 pages of Redemption. As it stands now, it is 79, 653 words which would put it at roughly 300 pages. I hope you enjoy it.

10:30 p.m.

Steam rolled up over the crumpled hood. There was a hissing sound coming from the front of the car. The light pole that the front of the car wrapped around was set toward us at angle that made me think it was going to fall. My girl started moaning and I was grateful. Moaning meant that she was alive. I looked over and gasped when I saw the piece of glass lodged in the side of her neck with blood gushing over it. It had to be an arterial bleeder.

“Jared?” Her hand reached out for me and I took hers as firmly as I could manage.

“Yeah baby, I am right here.”

She was wincing. “Are you okay?”

“I am fine baby. How are you holding up?”

“Scared. Do you think anyone has called an ambulance yet?”

I heard the man who had pulled up behind us yelling something about two heads in front and the wreck being on the corner of Third and Wintergreen. A glance in the rearview mirror let me know that he was standing behind the car, pointing at the street signs as if the 911 operator could see him.

“Yeah baby, they have been called. So just hold on for me, okay?”

Her face was no longer wincing but her color took on a bluish tint. “I am trying Jared, but I am really cold.” The bleeding was slowing.

Oh God, not yet. Please not yet. Just let the ambulance get here. I tried to move closer but I was stuck. I looked down and saw the dashboard was sitting on my chest. Panic started to set in as I realized that I could not feel my legs. How was I going to help her if I could not move? God, help me. I grasped her hands tighter. She smiled lightly.

“Jared, I love you.”

“No. Do not give me the goodbye speech.”

“Please let me finish. I love you, I always have. I have never felt more complete, more whole than I have with you. I regret nothing about being with you. But we definitely have wrong to make up for.”

Tears fell from the corners of her eyes. She still held a weak smile. Her color, as impossible as it seemed, got paler. She looked as if she had a fine dusting of baby powder on her.

“I love you too, baby. Just hang on.”

She gave my fingers a faint squeeze and exhaled.

“No baby, no. Jesus, no! Please God, don’t let her be gone!”

Her mouth slacked open ever so slightly. I put my hand under her nose and on top of her mouth to see if I felt any breath. There was nothing.

“No!” I screamed at the unfairness of it. I screamed at God to give her back to me. I screamed at myself for not seeing the red light.

“Why couldn’t it have been me?”

“Be careful what you wish for.”

I looked over at the man standing outside of my window. He had the kindest face, making me think that our salvation had arrived. Only, there was no ambulance and the guy standing behind the car was still screaming into the phone.

“I need help man! She needs CPR. If you know it, please help because I can’t move my legs.”

“She is gone, Jared. CPR will not help now.” The sirens were getting louder.

“How do you know our names?”

“Because I was sent for you. I am the one who will be telling you about your job.”

“Job?” I motioned down with my hands. “What are you talking about? In case you have not noticed, I am trapped a car, the woman I love does not have a pulse” my voice started to crack, “and you are talking about a job. Please man, please, I will get you some help. We can get you off of whatever kind of junk you are doing afterwards but if you know CPR, you have to help her.” I brushed strands of hair out of her face. “Please, I love her more than life itself.”

The man reached out his hand and touched my forearm. “Be calm, Jared.” Immediately, I was calm. The building panic attack stopped just as he told me to be calm.

“How did you…”

“I can answer all of your questions when the time comes. I am here to guide you.”

Oh Jesus, no. Oh my God.

“I’m dying.” It was a statement, not a question.

He shook his head gently. “Yes. When the paramedic gets over here, tell him what you need to and I will get you.”

What do I need to tell the paramedic? “Does dying hurt?”

“Sometimes. But yours will be peaceful. Your suffering is over.”

As the paramedic ran up to my side of the car, the man backed away, but stood off to the side and watched. The paramedic wrenched my door open.

“I got this one open!” Hands were on my neck, steady. “This one has a pulse! It is weak but it is here. Hey man, just hold on for me, okay? My name is Ethan and I am going to get you some help, okay?”

I closed my eyes tightly, trying to focus but between the love of my life dying and the mystery guy standing off to the side, focusing was hard. I wondered who was going to check on my grandmother every night and make sure she had taken her medicine. Understanding crept in.

“This one does not have a pulse.” The other paramedic was checking all around her body. He leaned over and saw the glass lodged in her neck. “Damn it, she bled out. It looks like she completely bled out all over the seat here. And she is cold. How long ago was the accident?”

“Hey Justin, mine has a pulse, okay?” That was a gentle way of telling Justin to shut up, I think. “We got the call four minutes ago.”

“Oh.” The other guy was doing some other stuff but I was not paying attention.

“Ethan?”

He looked up from what he was working on, undoubtedly trying to find a way to get me out. I did not want to tell him that he would be too late. “Yeah man.”

“My name is Jared and my grandmother’s name is Hattie. Everybody knows her as Miss Hattie down at First Baptist. Please tell her that I am sorry and I love her.”

“You are going to be able to tell her yourself. Just hang in there.”

”No, I am not. I need to know you will. Miss Hattie, First Baptist. My name is Jared. I love her and I am sorry.” My voice was breaking up.

Ethan patted my hand. “Okay, okay, I will tell her. But you will beat me to the punch. We are going to get you out of here.”

The guy walked back up to me and touched my arm.

“Jared, I am taking you now.”

Looking death in the face, there was no fear. The stranger placed his hand on my forearm and a blanket of energy flowed over my body. Every nerve ending seized up. That only lasted for the briefest of seconds and then I was gone. Where the energy had been a second before, a numbness took over and I realized that Ethan could just walk away and drop what he was doing, I was dead.


Earlier that night, 7:15 p.m.

“Last call for American Flight 1472 to Atlanta. Last call for American Flight 1472 to Atlanta.” I watched the man who was taking off in a flat run for the gate, handling the carry on with amazing finesse. Evidently, this was not his first last call. Amused by that, I grabbed my cell phone and turned it on. I hit the preprogrammed number and waited on my call to be answered.”

“Hey baby girl!”

“Hey Daddy! I am on the ground.”

“Literally? Did you trip?”

“Funny, the man thinks he is a comedian.”

“Ah baby girl, you think I am funny sometimes too. How was your flight?”

“No screaming kids this time. But my iPod ran out of power somewhere over Virginia, so…”

“So Rebecca had to go without metal screeching in her ears. Somewhere, an angel has lost its wings.” Soft giggling followed the sarcasm.

“Daddy, I swear if I did not love you so much, I would pummel you with a bat. You need a woman.” He groaned. “Oh no, I take it the date did not go so well?”

“Sweetheart, let’s just say that you can’t judge a book by its cover.”

“How so?” I paused in stride long enough to allow a mom to shuffle two small children to the snack bar in front of me. Deciding I was not so hungry after all, I kept walking toward baggage claim.

“We met at the restaurant and when I saw her, I almost lost my breath she was so gorgeous. You were right about that kiddo. So, we sit down and we are having pleasant conversation for the first ten minutes or so. Then, she starts talking about her ex-husbands.”

“Husbands? I knew she had been married before but I thought it was only once.”

Daddy was chuckling. “She omitted a couple of things when you guys talked. She is fresh out of divorce number six.”

“Damn.”

“Exactly. So I was polite and we finished eating, I paid for the meal and then made up some sort of stomach bug to get out of there.”

“Daddy, I’m sorry. She seemed very nice.”

“I know sweetheart. And she was. I just did not feel like being future ex-husband number seven and it was obvious that she was hunting already.”

I sighed to myself as I walked up to baggage claim. I looked around the masses of black luggage for the telltale sign of my suitcase. When Daddy gave me the set of luggage, he was very proud as he showed me the small Pooh head embroidered on each piece of the set. He said mine would stand out in baggage claim, which it always did. Daddy used to read lots of books to me when I was a kid and our all time favorites to read together were the Pooh stories. I smiled widely as I saw the little fellow on a lone black bag.

“Pooh just rolled up.”

“See, aren’t you glad I’m a genius?”

I grunted as I lifted my suitcase but still managed to giggle. “Yes, Einstein, I am lucky that you are my father.”

“Me too. Are you heading for the car…” He stopped speaking abruptly as if something happened.

“Daddy, what is wrong?”

“I love you Rebecca. You are the best thing I have ever done in my life and if I should live five more lifetimes, that would still be true.”

“Daddy, what is going on?” I heard him swallow. He was scared. Dear God, what was happening to him?

“Drop the phone!” There was a deep voice on Daddy’s end, one that sounded a little muffled. “I said drop the fucking phone!”

“Daddy! What’s going on?”

“Just grab the bag and shoot his ass! We can’t leave a witness! Come on!” There was some movement like scuffling. I was stopped, frozen in position, petrified. My father was in trouble and I was a good 30 minutes away from him. I could not hang up to dial 911 because he may need me. Frantically, I looked around for someone to help. I lurched for a TSA security agent, grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him close, which he did not like very well at all. Just when I thought that I would be cuffed and led away, he saw my expression and stopped cold. I must have looked as scared as I felt.

“Sir please, I need someone to dial 911 for me. My father is on the phone with me and he is being robbed. He owns a jewelry store in downtown Raleigh and obviously I can’t hang up to dial 911. Please call someone for me.”

The agent’s hardened stare softened a bit and he nodded. “Give me the address and I will make the call for you.” With a shaking hand, I reached inside my purse and pulled out one of Daddy’s business cards. I always kept some on hand to give to potential customers. The agent nodded and dialed.

“What did you do to him? Come on! Let’s get the hell out of here!”

“Daddy? Please Daddy, say something. Come on Daddy, talk to me!” I looked at my watch and saw that is was 7:30. I turned to the agent. “The store is closed now so he will be in the alley to the side of the store going for his car. But please hurry, he is in trouble!” The agent relayed my information. “Daddy,” my voice was breaking and I was trembling, “please talk to me. Please be okay.” I heard a slight cough. “Daddy?”

“I love you baby girl.”

“I love you too Daddy. Hang on, help is on the way.”

“Not going to make it.”

“Stop that! You are going to be fine.”

“Chest pain…hard to breathe…not going to…make it.”

“Yes you are Daddy. You are going to be fine.”

His breathing was sounding labored. “Okay…sweetheart.”

“Daddy, how many people were there?”

He coughed then gasped. “Two.”

“Can you describe them?”

“Face…masks.” It was hard for him to talk.

I looked at the agent. “Have they sent an ambulance yet?” He nodded.

“Can you give me an ETA on the ambulance?” He turned his attention back to me. “They are roughly two minutes away.”

I heard Daddy coughing. “Please tell them to hurry!” He nodded and said something else to the 911 operator. “Daddy, the ambulance is almost there, okay? Hold on Daddy, they are almost there. I love you Daddy, just hold on for me.”

“Love you too baby girl.” I heard something rattle, like the phone hitting the pavement and my heart wrenched. Someone put their hands on my shoulders and it was not until that moment that I realized I was on my knees sobbing. I listened as the ambulance sirens approached and I heard the brakes screech as the ambulance stopped. I heard the paramedics talking and their voices getting louder as they approached my Daddy. I heard his shirt getting ripped open. I heard the sounds of the clasped hands on his chest doing CPR, trying to will his heart to move. I heard the observations about his clinical condition, about how his lips were blue. I knew when the defibrillator was charged and when it had been placed on his body and used. I stayed in my slumped position in the middle of the baggage claim, sobbing as the next five minutes went by. I heard the fight for my Daddy’s life. I knew that the paramedics were doing all they could. I also knew he was gone.

That is how my life became empty at only 23 years of age.


ALMOST TWO YEARS LATER

I put my keys on top of my files on my counter and walked over to the coffee pot. Thankfully, it had finished brewing while I was gone. This was going to be a long day. As a medical transcriptionist, I had five of the seven doctors at the clinic to type for today. I would be at this for a long time. Maybe this was not a bad thing. I would not be able to think about too many other things if I was busy, like anniversaries coming up. I walked over to my laptop and turned it on. Within seconds, all of the icons were up and it was waiting on me to start work. It would have to wait a few more minutes. I needed the coffee today, it was as necessary as air. As I rounded the corner coming back into the office with my cup in hand, I saw Wolfie, my cat, sitting in the chair beside the desk. I rubbed the top of his head and he purred, stretched and settled into nap position. As I walked away, his head jerked up and all the hair on his back stood on end. He hissed and ran out of the room in a frenzy.

“Wolfie? What the…”

I turned and looked at the chair sitting on the other side of the room and screamed. I grabbed the cell phone out of my pocket and pressed down the one button, 911 having been already programmed in. I was barely able to do this because my hand was shaking so violently. The man sitting in the chair on the other side of the room was at my side in a flash and touched the phone. It went dead before the call had a chance to connect. My whole body was shaking but I could not run. My eyes had not left the man, who was now back across the room sitting in the same chair. My heart was pounding so hard, I could feel my shirt move with each beat. I felt nauseous but I was certain that I was not going to throw up because that would require movement and my body was not going to let me do that yet.

He looked wary, perhaps even scared. He was in my house sitting across from me where absolutely no one had been seconds earlier and yet his face was very apologetic.

“I’m sorry. I know I have scared you. I am so very sorry. But I am not going to hurt you. Please know that. You are safe.”

I could not talk, or scream. I was still frozen.

“I can not imagine how you must feel right now. But please believe me. I am not going to hurt you, I promise you that. You are safe.”

I still could not move or make sense of what he was saying. If he was not going to hurt me, what in the hell was he doing here? For that matter, how did he get in here? His eyebrows scrunched together in concern.

“Do you need to sit? Yeah, you need to sit down.” He started walking toward me as if to help me but took a step back when I jerked away. I found my feet again. I took two steps back to Wolfie’s chair. My eyes never left him as I sat down. I have no idea why I sat. It did not make any sense to put myself in a position where I could not run away from this guy, but I did.

“My name is Jared. Like I said before, I am not going to hurt you. I promise that.

I found my voice.

“You have said that already. If you aren’t going to hurt me, what in the hell are you doing here, in my house? How did you get in here?”

“I will explain all of that. If you will please just do something. Take a few deep breaths in through your nose and out through your mouth, please.”

“What?”

“Please just do it. Your heart rate is alarmingly high and you are worrying me.”

“You broke in my house, you have scared me half to death and now you are worried about my heart rate? What in the hell is going on here?”

“Please just take a few deep breaths.”

I did as he asked. I took a few deep breaths in through my nose and released them slowly through my mouth.

“There, your heart rate is down a little.”

I felt my chest. He was right. But that still did not explain any of this.

“Like I was saying earlier, my name is Jared. I am here because you are the only one who can help me get home.”


GETTING TO KNOW JARED

In the grand scheme of things, I suppose this could be expected. There are people starving, sicknesses that can not be cured and people doing stupid shit like flying planes into buildings. So, sitting across the room from a six foot two inch tall ghost may not be so strange after all, right? Wrong. This was screwed up.

Jared told me that he was dead and I was part of something that he had to fix before he could go home. I could only assume that home was Heaven. Having taken a few minutes to let what he told me sink in, I just had to say it. Prove you are dead. I asked for it.

That is when he walked through my damned wall.

Stupefied, I walked up to that exact wall and poked it, trying to see if something had been tampered with. What did I come up with? Drywall, painted toasted mocha but drywall, nonetheless.

I had not done any weed since college. I was on no medications and the last time I had anything to drink was a beer on a date two months ago. I got seven hours of sleep last night. I was not tired. So what the hell was wrong with me?

Looking over at the chair, I still saw him. Wolfie was not there. That chicken shit ran out of the room and has been hiding ever since. I made a mental note to get a dog and replace the useless guard cat.

I walked to the refrigerator and pulled out a beer, tossed the cap in the trash and took a very long pull. I think having a ghost in your house waiting to talk to you warrants a middle of the day emergency drink. I walked back around the corner with a half empty bottle and the ghost was still there. I took another long pull, wishing I had grabbed two bottles.

“Are you a drinker?”

“Not ordinarily. Are you a haunter?”

He grinned. “Not ordinarily.”

“Well, I think we have established extenuating circumstances here, so…” I sat down in the chair beside my desk, finishing off the bottle as I did. “Your name is Jared, you are dead and you do not haunt. We have covered the basics. Why am I the one who can help you?”

“I wish I could tell you that. You are just going to have to trust me.”

I laughed. “Trust you? Are you kidding me? Unless you are packing an emergency lobotomy kit somewhere Casper, I ain’t trusting you.”

A smile almost broke at the corner of his lips. “Is it a problem with spirits or trust issues in general?”

I almost could appreciate the sarcasm. But the situation was too new and too raw for me to develop any appreciation for him yet. “My mom up and left me and my dad when I was three because a toddler was not conducive to what her fling on the side wanted, so trust is a long-standing problem with me. The whole spirit issue, well, since you are my first, we will just have to see on that, won’t we?”

“You mom left when you were three?”

“Oh no, do not dare try to psychoanalyze me. I hate pity and I hate discussing my mental health, so stop.”

“Fair enough.”

“Are you going to answer my question?”

“No.”

“No, you aren’t going to answer. Or no, you can’t tell me.”

His lip was twitching, making it obvious that he was fighting a smile. “No, I can not tell you why I am here with you.”

“Why not?”

He actually chuckled. The son of a bitch was finding this funny. “If I could, I would tell you right now. But, unfortunately, that is not how things work.” He smiled at my annoyed expression. “I do not want secrets. I do not like being evasive with you. I do not want to prolong this. I would be a happy man if I could accomplish all I am supposed to right now. That way, I could go on to where I am supposed to be.”

“Where is that?” He took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. He looked around the room, checking out the walls and shelves. His eyebrows scrunched together again. “What are you looking for?”

“Religious symbols, crosses, some sort of clue as to your theological beliefs.”

“I have a Bible.” He looked around again. “On the shelf.”

He crossed his arms and arched an eyebrow. “Do you ever read it?”

“Why, are you going to test me?”

“No.” I felt like he was looking down on me because I was not a Bible reader. That was adding to my discomfort.

“Do you have a point Reverend or are you just going to glare at me?”

“Are you a Christian?”

I shrugged. “More so than anything else, why?”

“Heaven. That is your answer. When I am finished here, I will be going to Heaven.”

“So is this like your purgatory or something?”

“No. I have something to fix, for lack of a better word. When that is done, I can go.”

I cocked my head to the side. My curiosity was flaring. “Did you wrong me or my father?”

“No.”

My arms fell down by my hips and my mouth flew open. “Then what in the hell are you doing with me?”

“All in good time.”

Great. Casper was not going to answer a damned thing I wanted him to. So, here I was, aggravated with a full load of work to do. To top it all off, my coffee was cold. I snatched the cup, ignoring the little bit that sloshed out on my sleeve and stormed off to the microwave. After the coffee was warmed to an acceptable temperature, I walked back to the office where Jared was sitting in the same chair.

“So what are the arrangements? Do you sleep? Do you eat? What do I have to expect?”

“I take it you have a bit of a temper.”

“Yeah, and a low bullshit tolerance. Sleeping, eating, ghostly habits, tell me what I need to expect.”

“I do not sleep or eat. As far as what I will be doing, I will be in and out. There are things that I have to take care of away from here but for the most part, I will be around you…a lot.”

I nodded my head, soaking in the latest bit of information. I wanted to look around for the hidden camera on the off chance that I was being punked.

“Are you a ghost, a poltergeist, what are you?”

He sat down on the floor in front of me in front of me with a gentle look on his face. “I am a Messenger. If you Google Messenger or maybe extra celestial being, you will find the closest definition to what I am.”

I grabbed my laptop and pulled it on my lap. I did as he suggested and searched both messenger and extra celestial beings. A couple of the definitions sounded rather daunting but a few of them were hilarious. I looked at the rather apprehensive man, for lack of a better term, sitting on my floor and had a hard time reconciling the scary stuff with him. After roughly ten minutes, I closed the laptop and sat it to the side.

“So, you are either a spiritual entity existing outside of a body or you are trying to give me a message?”

His lips twitched before he finally gave in to a smile. “Something like that. More like a combination of the two.”

“Wouldn’t it make things a hell of a lot easier for you just to sit down with a diagram and say ‘this is what I have to do Rebecca and here is where you come in’? Just come right out and say it instead of all of this beating around the bush.”

“Yeah, it would clear things up significantly. But I am not working on your timetable or mine. I have things I have to accomplish that were not defined by either you or me. I’m sorry but I have to play by” he pointed up “someone else’s rules.”

“And you are stuck with me?” Smiling, he nodded his head. “God, did you get screwed.”

The laughter went through the whole room. “I haven’t started being annoying at two in the morning yet. Your definition of who got screwed may change shortly.”

“Fair warning, I am a javaholic. If I do not get my coffee about two seconds after my eyelids peel open, I go from zero to bitch in about a nanosecond. I listen to loud music to which I sing off-key. Since it is September, my TV stays on Sports Center when it is on at all. Catching the preseason stats on Blue Devil basketball and Panthers football takes up a significant amount of time. Exactly why did you grimace?”

“I must have misheard you. I could have sworn you said Panthers.”

“I did.”

Jared looked up with his arms outstretched. “What did I do to deserve this?”

“Pardon me?”

“Don’t worry, I will correct your misguided ways by the end of the season and you will be a diehard Redskins fan.”

“I checked the weather this morning. Hell did not freeze over.”

“Whatever.”

I glared at him as I turned to head toward my desk. “Yeah, whatever. Now if you will excuse me, I have got a job to do.”

He grinned and gave me a mock salute. “Yes ma’am.”

Redskins fan, how in the hell did that happen? Oh well, it could have been worse. I could have been stuck with a Messenger who died in the 80s, filling my work day with “like” and “totally”. With a slight bit of amusement at my current situation, I went to my desk to begin my work for the day.


PEPPERMINT

Jared had killed my phone. I stared at it, shook it and eventually threw it away. Nothing was salvageable about it. I mentioned how I could at least donate it to an agency that provided cell phones to battered women or to the troops overseas and Jared told me not to bother. That particular piece of technology would never function normally again.

That afternoon, playing with all of the different functions on my newly purchased phone, I smelled peppermint. Glancing up, I saw Jared standing beside my 52 inch LCD TV with the new blue ray player under it.

“Bitch, move away from my TV.”

Jared glared at me. “Did you just call me bitch?”

“Did you just get within killing distance of my TV?”

Jared fought a grin. “Rebecca, I had to purposely touch that phone to kill it. I am not going to touch the TV.”

“Moot point. I don’t want any of your dead guy mojo reaching out and touching my TV. You killed my phone and I am so not taking the chance.”

He walked away and flopped down on the couch beside me. He reached down to touch the remote and stopped short. He pulled back when he saw my go to hell glare and laughed.

“Do you mind if I watch ESPN?”

I shook my head. “We covered that already. Go ahead. But I operate the remote, got it?”

The TV turned on by itself and the channel changed to ESPN. My eyes widened in surprise.
Jared smiled like the cat who ate the canary.

“The remote is not necessary. I can change the channels myself.”

I shook my head and muttered while turning my attention back to my phone. The applications on the new phones were phenomenal and my inner techno geek was screaming with excitement. I took a deep breath in and smelled the peppermint again.

“What’s up with the smell?”

Jared arched an eyebrow. “What smell?”

“It smells like chewing gum, peppermint maybe?”

Jared smiled as he stretched his arm down the couch into a more relaxed position. “That would be my smell. Peppermint was my thing.”

“Do you mind explaining that?”

“Not at all. I loved peppermint. You know the long peppermint stick candy you can get at Christmas?”

“Yeah.”

Jared smiled. “My grandma used to stockpile that stuff because I would go through it all year long. What was it? Red Bird candy, I think. Yeah, Red Bird. Man, that was some good stuff. Ooh, my cousin showed me a trick when we were kids. You know how you can cut a hole in the top of an orange and suck out the juice?”

“Yep. My dad used to do that for me all the time.”

“Good stuff, good stuff. Anyway, when you cut the hole in the top, put one of those pieces of peppermint candy in and suck the juice through that. Aww man, do I miss that!”

“Eww, orange and peppermint?”

He shot me a duh stare as if he were offended. “Don’t knock it until you try it Rebecca. With the holidays coming up, you need to grab a box of oranges and Red Bird candy and try it. Man, do I miss stuff like that.”

I felt sorry for him. He was stuck here with me, watching me do human, alive things everyday and there were things he wanted to do but could not. It was sad, really.

“So, when I smell peppermint, that pretty much means you are nearby.”

He nodded.

“Why couldn’t you have been a steak person?”

He laughed loudly. “Actually, I loved liver and onions. Would it be better to smell that all the time?”

I held up my hand in surrender. “Ugh, no. I’ll take the peppermint any day.”

Jared turned his attention back to ESPN and I turned my attention back to the phone. It was going to be interesting learning how to live with a ghost. At least this one liked Sports Center.


BAILING OUT JARED

In the two years since my father died, I have done this a handful of times. I always felt like he would be disappointed to watch me trashing my liver this way. Still, every few months or so, I found myself couching it with a couple of pillows, a blanket and some very chilled bottles of Goose ready to make myself forget for just a while that I was all alone in the world.

A quarter of the way down bottle number one and the smell of peppermint was overwhelming. I looked up to see Jared standing in a very reproachful position, arms crossed, staring down at me like I had just farted in the middle of church or something equally reprehensible.

“What?”

“Rebecca, what are you doing?”

“Supporting the…” I turned the bottle up to see where Grey Goose was manufactured, “French? What the hell? For some reason, I thought the Russians had this market cornered.”

“You know what I mean. You look as if you plan to be there doing that,” he pointed an accusatory finger at my bottle, “for a while.”

I sighed and straightened. It looked as if my appointment with the bottom of this bottle was going to be sidetracked by a serious dose of fucked up. “Look Casper, can’t you go haunt an AA meeting somewhere? I’m not harming anyone. Go hide my keys. I’m not driving. My work is done and I have everything I need right here so screw off.”

He shook his head. “You seriously think you have everything you need?”

“Enlighten me Captain Ectoplasm. What else do I need?”

“Someone to get you out of this funk.”

I took a long pull off of the bottle before I responded to that one. “News flash. Everyone leaves. No one sticks around. You aren’t even permanent. I am just a means to an end for you. As soon as you do whatever you need to do, you’re gone. I can’t even get a fucking spirit, Messenger, whatever to stay around long enough to haunt me decently so any advice you feel like offering, go put in a greeting card and mail to someone who gives a damn.”

“You brat.”

Oh no he did not just call me that. “Excuse me?”

“Brat. I called you a brat. Look it up in the dictionary if you don’t know what it means.”

“What gives you the right to call me that?”

“What gives you the right to drink yourself into a stupor?”

“Being a tax-paying American citizen, being of legal age to buy the shit and sitting in my own home with no plans to go anywhere for two days. That gives me the right.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Well, in that case, have at it. But you are still a brat.”

My patience was wearing really thin now. Jared was seriously fucking up my plans. “Why am I a brat?”

“It goes back to an old expression. Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened. You were 23 when your father died. Do you ever thank God for the 23 years that you had with him?”

I looked up and held out my hands in the most mock sincere form I could manage. “Thank you God for the very, very short time I had with my father after my mother left us both. Thank you for the horrific way he died and left me all alone.” I glared at Jared and picked my bottle back up. “Happy now?”

“What was supposed to happen? Was he supposed to live one day longer than you so he could bury you? Children bury their parents Rebecca, it is the natural order of things.”

“You are right, of course, why didn’t I see it before now? Mom! Hey Mom! Jared figured things out. Wait, my mom isn’t here. Oh, that’s right, she bailed twenty-two years ago! So excuse the fuck out of me for not being more appreciative of the time I had with him but I have no one else. Just me. So if I want to throw a damned pity party with just me in attendance, that is just how it is.”

“I need a bailout here.” Jared was looking up as he said that.

“Call the President.”

Jared shot me a disapproving look and started walking back and forth between me and the TV, snapping his finger. “Come on, how do I do this?”

“Whatever you are doing, could you do it somewhere else?”

Jared stopped and hopped up and down, staring up at my ceiling again. “Bibbidy, bobbidy, boo? Is anyone listening?”

“What are you doing?”

“I need to talk to someone and I can’t just poof myself there.”

“Need me to call an exorcist?”

He ignored me. “Come on! Could someone please listen to me? Jared phoning home!”

“Oh that should work.” I looked up at the blank space he was looking at. “Could someone please beam Jared back to the home planet for a while? He needs some advice on dealing with my belligerence?”

At that moment, he disappeared. Jared had been in my home for over a month and I have had the opportunity to see the poofy thing being done, but it still made me scream.


HE'S BACK

“You rang?”

I turned to see who was talking to me. “I need help. Right now, she is drinking pretty heavily and I do not know what to do to help her. I tried reasoning, throwing out a guilt trip or two, everything. She is the most jaded, cynical person I have ever met and that says a lot. I think...I think you guys were wrong. I am not the man for this job.”

“Jared, we have been over the details. You are the only man for the job.”

“Then God help her because I do not know what else to do.”

He put his hand on my shoulder. “God is helping her. Everything happens for a reason. Have you thought that maybe her stubbornness is a test?”

“Why would I be tested?”

He shrugged. “I am merely your advisor. I do not have all the answers.”

“Any answers would be appreciated.”

He laughed softly. “I’ll tell you what. It is time for the next step.”

“Which would be?”

“Your other project. Don’t forget, you have two people who need saving.”

I groaned. As difficult as helping Rebecca was proving to be, this was going to be twice as hard. “Why can’t I tell Rebecca anything?”

“She is not ready for everything. She is still in pain, Jared. That is the reason she is being so, difficult.”

“Difficult is putting it mildly.”

We stood silently for a few moments as I was preparing myself.

“How am I going to do this?”

“By not giving up. You have a tenacity that will not let you quit. Besides, look at the payoff.”

Thinking about finally getting to see her again made me smile. “How is she?”

“I am sure she is fine.”

“You’re sure she is fine? You don’t know?”

He smiled wearily at me. “No Jared, I don’t.”

There were a couple more moments of silence as I let that new piece of information set in.

“Why aren’t you doing this? You know everything about her. Maybe she would listen to you.”

He shook his head. “I can’t. I would not be able to help at all.”

“What makes me any more qualified for this than you?”

“Because Jared, you are making her listen to you. Slowly, you are wearing down her…”

“That is not what I asked! Why aren’t you doing this?”

“Protection.”

“From what? Is she in danger?”

“No Jared, it is for my protection. The powers that be knew that if they sent me in to accomplish this, it was be too hard for me to go. Hearing her on the phone the day I died, begging me to hang on, was the hardest thing I have ever done. They didn’t think it was fair to make me leave my daughter again.”

I let that one sink in for a moment or two. It was a fair enough assessment. The man would be hard pressed to leave his own child, twice.

“If we died the same night, how exactly did you talk to me at the crash site?”

“I had the same question. The way that it was explained to me is that time is relative, especially on the spiritual plane. I traveled backwards to talk to you the night of our deaths.”

“What?” This was certainly a hard pill to swallow and was going to take some explanation.

He smiled gently. “Would you believe that it was only two weeks ago here that I found out what would be required of me to cross over?”

Oh this just gets better and better. “You are going to have to explain that one. And what do you mean the things that would have to happen for you to cross over?”

“As I said, time is relative here. I got the information on who would be helping Rebecca roughly two weeks ago here. I found myself at the wreck site, talking to you, helping to guide you over. Until I saw the newspaper stand on the sidewalk, I had no idea it was the same day. That was a little eerie. As for your other question, I left with a big burden in my life which needs to be handled before I can have eternal rest.”

Ah, the clarity I sought. “Rebecca is your burden.”

He chuckled. “Well, yes and no. My burden is the condition she is in now. She is spiritually empty, emotionally empty and I was always the one who took care of her. When I heard her pleading to me to live, it was the hardest thing I have ever experienced. I knew that I was leaving her broken. I knew she would isolate herself from everyone, from the world because that is how Rebecca is. After her mom left us, she did the same thing. She piled her stuffed animals outside of her room and told me she just wanted to be alone. She built a wall around herself. After a couple of weeks, she started to cling to me like glue. She was like my little shadow, following me around everywhere. She had a few friends over the years but no one that she ever truly let in. Rebecca keeps everyone at a distance to protect herself.”

More clarity seeped in. “So, I am here to relieve your burden as well as to help Rebecca and my other assignment.”

He nodded.

“What if she is too broken? What if I can’t do it?”

“Jared, do you think you would be here, right now, if anyone doubted you?”



I hope you enjoyed this small portion of Redemption and that Jared has you wrapped around his pinkie like I am. Until next time.

Meet My Guys

What is playing? Iris by the Goo Goo Dolls

When I find someone musically that I have not listened to before and they click with me, I get all sorts of excited. My husband is a YouTube addict. Certifiable, card-carrying, addict. We had a conversation a week or so ago.

"Listen, I found a video by a band that I think you will really like. Pull up Endeverafter."

Rolling my eyes. "Okay, when I get a minute." I rolled my eyes because my husband had Enya on repeat this past weekend. Did I mention all I heard was Enya ALL NIGHT LONG? So, I don't put much stock in the hubby's musical recommendations after nine hours of Enya.

Three days ago, this happens.

"Look, I have YouTube pulled up. Just walk over and check them out."

"For the love of...fine. I will check them out."

Five minutes later, I was on iTunes buying their stuff. Next Best Thing is what the song just switched off to. And yes, I apologized to the hubby.


Character Bios

Jared Davenport is in his mid to late twenties. A biology major, he set out to make the world a better place. The main caregiver for his elderly grandmother, he calls her every night to remind her to lock her door, take her meds and double check to make sure the stove is off. At around six feet two inches with a face that lights up with his smile, this young black man could have taken the world by storm...if he had not died.

Now faced with the task of being a Messenger (a spirit who exists outside of a body with a message to deliver or a job to do, depending on the interpretation), he receives his assignments and must complete those to go on to the Heaven that he knows awaits him.

Rebecca McLeod is Jared's first assignment. Sarcastic with a mouth of a sailor, she has the look of the typical girl next door, long brown hair, green eyes but has an anger complex that weighs more than her car. Abandoned by her mother when she was three, Rebecca was raised by her father who not only was her biggest support, he was her best friend...until he died. Now two years after her father's death, she walks into her home office and finds a strange man sitting in a chair claiming she can help him get home. With her frustration coupled with anger over her loss, her abandonment issues and her resentment of God for taking her father, Rebecca makes Jared's journey precarious, to say the least.

Christian Bianchi is a 31-year-old endocrinologist living in North Carolina for the past 15 years since his Italian family moved down here for business reasons. He finished high school and went to college there, choosing to stay even after his family moved back to Manhattan. Not one to settle down in a relationship, Christian has a long line of women he has gone through until an event happens that shakes him to his core...his little sister died. Christian pours himself into taking care of his patients, hoping to save them as he failed his sister. At six feet four inches with black hair falling to his shoulders and eyes the color of the Caribbean, Christian could very well prove to be a bigger obstacle in Jared's journey home than Rebecca.

These are the three that Redemption focuses on. My next post will have a portion of the manuscript. Thank you for sharing with me. Until next time.