by Shel Delisle
Faith buries her nose deeper into the book.
“Okay,” Mercy says, “But tell me about your Mission. I’ve been dying to hear how it ended.”
If Faith weren’t here, I’d probably just give it all to Mercy straight. But Faith’s snootiness makes me feel like embellishing. “Well. See. It turns out I’m pretty good at this stuff. I guess the Big Guy knew what He was doing, because—”
I don’t even get to finish bragging because there’s a knock on the door. It’s Aisha. I haven’t seen her since she left the dance.
We give each other a huge been-to-Hell-and-back hug. “I was just telling Mercy about my Mission,” I say. “You probably saved me from myself.”
Aisha steps back and takes in my remodeling. “Cool room.”
Faith—realizing a Full Angel has come into the room—lays down her book and turns suck-up-ish. “I’ve really admired you ever since we watched that episode of Angel Bloopers.”
Oh, sure. Bring that up after I’ve only been home five minutes.
Confession: I’m not as good at ignoring her digs as I thought.
“Seeing as you were watching an Angel-in-Training, it’s almost like you were a Dominion. Are you thinking of doing that someday? Because it seems like you’d be a natural,” Faith continues. Kissy, kissy.
Ugh! How has Mercy put up with her? Although I did think Aisha could be a Dominion a couple of times.
Faith can’t seem to help herself. “That’s what I’ve chosen because, well, it just seems like the highest calling.”
“Don’t tell that to the Seraphim or the Cherubim.” Aisha winks while Mercy and I crack up.
But Dominions are what they are. Faith holds up her book cover and points to the word Order. “Oversight is so important. Don’t you think someone oversees Seraphim and Cherubim?” She tosses the book aside. “At the very least, it’s a good thing she had oversight.” With this, she points at me. “Otherwise, there’d be some human wallowing in despair.”
Omigawd! She’s a drama queen, too?
Aisha folds her arms in front of her chest and takes her superior tone—the one I know so well. “I really enjoyed every minute with Grace. In fact, I learned something important from her.”
I blush. “Yeah, right. I didn’t teach you anything.”
Aisha shakes her head, braids clacking, and reaches into her ugly black briefcase. They’re standard issue I guess—the briefcases. I wonder if Michael would be open to feminizing the look for girl Guardians. Aisha pulls out a cell and wiggles it at me. “I just got it! Look—it even has holographic projection!”
“How’d you get it?”
“I took your advice. I asked. I couldn’t believe when Michael gave it to me. And the best part is, I can let Michael go to voicemail. I mean, not all the time, but you know when there are those times you just want to postpone talking to him.”
Oh boy, did I know. I nod, and Aisha laughs.
“I haven’t figured out how to program it yet, but I want your number.” She holds the phone out.
I enter my number and notice her Contact list is really short. “Do you want Victor’s number too?”
Aisha hesitates. “Sure. That would be great.”
Glancing back and forth between my cell and Aisha’s, I enter Victor’s number and hand the phone back to her. “Have you seen him?”
“Every day at school. He’s relishing each minute of Earthly existence without the obligations of Heaven. Totally goofing off.” Aisha’s expression looks resigned. “You know how he can be. But he did help me out the other day.”
I take her hand. “How are things with Lacey?”
“Better. She’s still angry about how she thinks her life is, but she’s not using and abusing her parents anymore. She hasn’t pulled any pranks.” Aisha brightens. “And last week, we went to the River of Grass Rec Center and she took Ethan to let him use the playground.”
“Wow! That’s progress.”
Aisha’s braids sway as she tips her head. “She still needs me.”
“Well then, what are you doing here?” Faith asks. It’s a mistake to use that tone.
Aisha’s casualness evaporates, replaced with that indefinable, supremely confident Angel stance. Geez, I wish I had that kind of confidence. “We’re all here for The Ceremony tomorrow.” Her voice echoes like she’s made some kind of proclamation.
At The Ceremony all the AITs will move up a level or more and will be bestowed with gifts. It’s the time and place where wings are handed out. I didn’t realize it would be so soon after my return and I never knew Full Angels would be there.
Faith shrinks a bit.
Then, Aisha relaxes. “Victor’s here too,” she says to me. “I stopped by the Hall of Records on my way here and saw him up on the scaffold, hanging with Michelangelo.”
It’s cool that Victor wanted to meet Michelangelo. I might just have to stop by the Hall of Records and visit the old guy myself. Who knows who else I might run into?
Aisha continues. “I’ll probably see Victor at The Ceremony. We sit in the same section since we were AITs together. Do you want me to tell him anything?”
“Tell him…” There’s a part of me that wants to say, If I get my wings, I’m going to soar around the stadium and touch down right by you. “I said hi,” I finish.
“I will,” Aisha says. “And good luck tomorrow. I’ll be rooting for you.”
}{
If you’d asked me if whether I’d get my wings today—four months ago, after my Declaration, I would have said, no problem. Two months ago, I’d have said, no way. Today, no clue.
A flock of Celestial Beings circle above me. One by one, they spiral down into the arena for The Ceremony. Landing in the stadium seats that surround us, they give their feathered wings a final flap and fold them to rest against their shoulders. Halos float above each head, lit from within. It’s totally impressive, but also a little like some kind of freaky migration.
I sit among all the other white-robed trainees in one of the golden chairs that are lined up over the full length of the field. The newest of us declared our Vocations three short months ago, but others have been at this much longer. On stage, Gabriel leads the choir until this place fills to overflowing. He signals for the singing to stop and reaches for his trumpet.
Here comes the Head Honcho.
He moves across the stage. Today, He’s an old man—not Santa, not clunker chauffeur, not toothless carnie, not white-haired bus driver—but the elegantly embroidered robes Guy. I guess that means this is a big deal for Him, too.
When He takes his place at the podium, no microphone is necessary; His voice booms and echoes. “Welcome—One and All. We are here to celebrate those who will serve.”
There’s a smattering of applause and the rustle of thousands upon thousands of wings.
“That is All. Thank you.”
No. Thank You. Or, rather…
Thank goodness He’s a man of few words, because if it were Archangel Michael, this would go on for-e-ver. He floats to the back of the stage and sits in a high-backed throne surrounded by Archangels on either side. Seraphim make lazy eights over His head.
Then, Michael takes center stage. From the podium, he summons each Angel-in-Training. Aurora. Bliss, Bravery… As they move across the stage, some still need a little work on their angelic walk, but others have perfected it. When they reach Michael, he presents them with a gift. Some receive a sword; others get a scepter or scales. So lame. While they all look thrilled with those gifts, I really, really, really want my wings.
There are times when he touches their forehead and mouth, and a halo appears, exquisitely resplendent. That might be okay. It seems like every fourth or fifth classmate is touched by Michael on their forehead, their mouth and heart and then—the miracle. Wings unfurl from their shoulders. Glorious! The feeling, I mean, not the AIT.
Please. Let me get mine.
Charity. Chastity.
I don’t know most of these trainees, but the names go on and on and on. Finally I rise, along with the two full rows of Graces. The line inches forward—c’mon, c’mon—until I stand at the base of the steps. My stomach, heart and head are buzzing when Michael says my name, “Grace Lightbourne.”
Through the internal noise, the only thing running through my mind is: Will I get them? Will I get them?
As I glide to Michael, I give him a teeny smile and I’m surprised to see a hint of one on his face too. I look into his eyes.
Confession: I’ve never noticed the kindness in Michael’s eyes before. I’ve always been too distracted by the immensity of his wings.
And I realize something else. Michael is head of the Guardians. He’s Top Angel, right? Maybe that means we’re important after all.
I bow my head.
He lifts it gently, smiling serenely. “Chin up, Grace.” I still don’t have the knack of that composure thing. Michael places two fingers on my forehead and a soothing warmth forms at the crown of my head, while he whispers so only I can hear, “You did Good.”
Read an Excerpt from:
grounded!
Book 2 from the Angel-In-Training series
Chapter 1
Behold!
My.
Halo.
Is.
Awesome.
In our darkened room, I admire it in the mirror, turning my head left, then right. The shimmers cast heavenly highlights onto my light brown curls. I mean, if I couldn’t get my wings at the Ceremony, this is the next best gift, right?
“Would you shut that thing off?!” Faith snarls. “Some of us are trying to sleep.” She folds the pillow over her head, flopping on her other side to face away from me, and huffs. Really loud.
So. Should it upset me that my luminescence has Faith in a snit? Maybe yes, maybe no, but it doesn’t.
It isn’t bothering Mercy, who’s mumbling in her sleep. If it was, I’d probably shut it off. But Faith annoys me, a lot, so I leave the halo lit.
Confession: This isn’t very angelic of me.
“Your alarm will go off in exactly four minutes,” I say with a hint of aspartame. “You don’t want to be late to your job.”
It’s kinda’ funny—me bossing her around. Usually Faith is the high and mighty one.
Faith sits up in bed and glares at me. “At least I have a job.”
“I do too!”
Faith works as an intern in the Department of Prayers, Answered and Otherwise. Coincidentally, I met her boss, Destiny Goodewind, and learned about this position a few months ago on Declaration Day while I followed Archangel Michael to his office for special instructions.
Declaration Day—or as I’ve always called it D-Day—is this formal event when each individual Angel-in-Training meets with Our Head Honcho for like thirty seconds and tells Him what career path they’d like to pursue for their final three years of school. My meeting was—uh—a teeny bit longer because I asked to skip school and go straight to Earth on a Mission as a Guardian. Surprisingly, The Big Guy said OK. Or at least the Divine version of that, which was: It will be done.
The Archangel Michael, who is in charge of all things Guardian, was very unhappy about the way my Declaration went down, but he still had to give me instructions. So on the way to his office, we stopped at the Prayer office and there was this totally awkward moment when Destiny mistook me for a Dominion. She asked me if I wanted the job Faith now has.
Can you say: Hell no?
Even so, it’s perfect for Faith’s bossy Dominion nature and I’m sure she’s loving stamping prayers Accepted or Rejected. I’d bet anything that she has a wonderful day of power tripping ahead of her.
Faith turns on the lamp next to her bed and combs her fingers through her spiky pixie-style hair. “Wrong, Grace! You had a job. That Mission is complete. Good luck getting another.”
Ordinarily, her snark can really drive me off my cloud, but I know today it’s all about the halo. I got one. She didn’t.
Instead, the pair of scales she did receive—to help weigh decisions—must come in handy at her job, but seriously, which would you rather have? It’s not too hard, right?
A halo is so much better!
Faith stalks to the closet and grabs a terry wrap. “You’ll see what I mean at today’s Conclave for Guardians. It should be—” she pauses for dramatic effect—“enlightening for you.”
With that sweet message delivered, she heads out the door and down the hall to the showers.
After she’s gone, I switch off my halo, which leaves me feeling a little less brilliant. Does she have the scoop on why The Conclave was called for today, three months ahead of the regular schedule? Is there some kind of bad news for Guardians?
Thank you for reading Winging It! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it. If so, I’d like to encourage you share it with a friend. This e-book is lending enabled to make it easy for you to do that.
Also, reviews are so important in helping others to choose which e-books to read. If you do write a review, please email me at [email protected] I’ll gift a copy of the next book in the series to you as a small token of thanks.
If you’d like to receive e-mails about future releases, please sign up here. I’m a little bit of a slacker—like Grace—so you’ll only hear from me a couple times a year, at most.
Other books by Shel Delisle
Dolphin Girl
Jane Wants The Life Of A Dolphin.
Wild. Graceful. Free.
But these days her life is nothing like that. Between her mother’s strict rules and the cliques at school, she feels strapped in a child-sized life vest. It’s not until Jane gets a tattoo and befriends popular Sam Rojas, a star on the school’s swim team, that her life feels freer. She begins to wonder: Is there a way to be myself and not be alone?
While she navigates these murky waters, a wave of events crash down on her, separating her from her family, her best friend Lexie and Sam, who Jane's fallen fin over tail for. Now she must figure out how to surf through rough seas without having everything she cares about pulled under.
DOLPHIN GIRL, author Shel Delisle’s first novel, is a story of family, friendship, first loves and most importantly—freedom.
Available at Amazon US and Amazon UK
Acknowledgments
I’d like to thank the following people for being Guardian Angels during the writing and publishing of this book.
Thanks to my totally righteous publication team including: Rhonda Helms, editor, Matt Delisle, cover artist, and Guido Henkel, e-book formatter.
Thanks to my Panera Posse, who are practically on the publication team, Kerry Cerra, Meredith McCardle, Jill MacKenzie, and Kristina Miranda. They are my wings.
Thanks to the Wednesday group who critiqued and helped this story to fly, especially Nicole Cabrera, David Case, Laen Ghiloni, Susan Safra, Mindy Alysse Weiss and, of course, Joyce Sweeney.
I’m also grateful to SCBWI for their conferences and training and the Kindle Boards community that is made up of incredibly generous people helping those who undertake this path to publication. Thanks to the following people for all kinds of support Larry Bloyd, J.D., Yoshika Green, and beta-reader Josh Wolf. All true angels.
Special thanks to my divine agent, Erica Rand Silverman, who was an early fan of this novel and has always been supportive.
Finally, to my saintly extended family, my boys and my hubby… thanks for being heavenly.
About the Author
Shel Delisle is the author of the bestselling teen novel Dolphin Girl. While she’s no angel, she tries hard to be good and enjoy every minute of her Earthly existence, living in Florida with her hubby, three boys and a very hairy, very sweet dog.
You can visit her at:
Her Blog
Facebook
Twitter
Goodreads
Whatcha’ Reading Now
Table of Contents
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Acknowledgments
About the Author