By Lani Diane Rich
Emmy James isn't the form of lady who draws angels. actually, after she despatched her existence right into a nosedive six years in the past, she's attempted to draw as low as attainable -attention, humans, or accountability. She skips from city to city in an Airstream trailer, operating atypical jobs and maintaining to herself till a surprising whim we could her recognize it is time to circulate back. And this works simply nice, till the day unforeseen viewers appear on the New Jersey trailer park she calls domestic. One is a formative years pal with information: her mom and his father have become married, and so they wish EJ to be there. the opposite is a candy yet extraordinary girl named Jess, who says she's an angel focusing on cosmic courting mending...and blueberry pancakes. Jess does not imagine it truly is any twist of fate that this can be all taking place instantaneously, yet EJ may really run herself over together with her personal Airstream prior to reconnecting together with her neglectful, self-absorbed mom. while she wakes as much as locate her trailer cruising down the street with a made up our minds angel on the wheel, although, EJ realizes that typically what you will have and what the Universe intends for you may be very various things...
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She wrapped her arms around me and gave me a hug, then released me and nodded to indicate the duffel bag and backpack sitting next to the truck. “Don’t run over my stuff,” she said on a wink, then turned and headed toward the mini-mart. “Oh, my God,” I muttered, racing to the side of the truck to stop the pump and hang up the nozzle. I wasn’t going to call the cops, I decided, but damned if I was going to let some crazy woman who fancied herself as one of God’s winged army drag me all the way to Oregon.
He’d known I was lying about going to Fletcher, and he’d kidnapped me, the bastard. He’d said he would drag me if he had to, and he did. “Bastard,” I muttered. I stood up, but between the hangover and the movement, it took me a while to properly search the Airstream. My cell phone was not in it. I must have left it in the cab of the pickup the night before. I was truly helpless, although he would have to stop for gas eventually, and when he did I’d get my keys back, kick him to the side of the road, and keep heading west.
I added a small “pffft,” as though it were an obvious choice and absolutely no big deal. Which it wouldn’t be. If there really was a book. I ex-tracted the fresh notebook I’d just bought from my bag and flipped it open. “So, tell me about yourself,” I said. “Where are you from? What brought you to New Jersey? ” She took a thoughtful sip of her coffee. “I’d rather learn more about you. You know, I had a feeling about you the moment we met. And . . this may sound crazy, but . ” She paused and I wondered what she was going to say that could possibly top “I’m an angel” in the crazy department.