What the story is about:
Taylor Fergusson should have died just days after she was born.
Accidents and mishaps kept happening to her until she and Daimhin, the Guardian Angel sent to fetch her, made a deal.
When upper management discovers Daimhin did not take Taylor's soul the first time he was supposed to, his own future is in jeopardy until he discovers his destiny and his choices are being assessed by a higher power.
As a love grows between a mortal and an angel, Daimhin can do nothing to stop the inevitable.
Yesterday, his life was simple.
For ages, his day started the same. For centuries, his day ended the same. He got the list and he went to work. After hundreds of years, he had lost the ability to feel. Everybody was born, lived their life, however long they were supposed to, and then they died. It was not rocket science.
Feeling ready to burst out of his skin, Daimhin shoved the list across the wide wooden desk and took an agitated look around the room. “A kid!” He exclaimed.
His manager looked back at him, where he was seated at the top end of the long table. The large windows behind him, with a view of endless clouds, silhouetted him, turning his manager into a dark looming shadow. Daimhin could not see his expression, but he heard from his tone that he was amused. “Too good for you, Daimhin?”
“I have never had to do this before. A baby? Really?”
Daimhin heard Violet smirk, where she sat next to him. He swivelled the leather chair and faced her. “What?” He was feeling tense. He was not sure if he would be able to go out today and to collect a baby. A baby, for crying out loud. A baby who has not yet had the chance to live a full life. Did somebody higher up the chain of command make a mistake of sending this soul back to earth, and now they had to ‘pull the product’ because of some production error.
Daimhin felt as if the walls were closing in on him.
The other guardians stood up from their chairs and then in groups of two or three’s they left the room. Each one of them taking their own list with them.
Violet touched him lightly on his arm.
“No need to be rude to me, Daimhin. We have all had to collect babies from time to time.”
His edginess increased tenfold, driving him to his feet. He expected this morning’s meeting to be the same as every other morning – get his list and do his job. A job he never chose to do but had no choice in doing, because of the choices he made a long time ago when he was also one of the living.
His manager looked across the table at Daimhin. Daimhin saw a glint of light in his eyes – amusement mixed with boredom. Daimhin saw a flash of a smirk on his darkly shadowed face.
Daimhin had no choice. He leaned across the table and pulled the list, printed on parchment paper, names written with a fountain pen in an elaborate cursive, across the glossy surface.
With a quick defiant glance toward his manager, he folded the list in four quarters and pushed it into his denim pants pocket.
Violet followed him from the room. “I can go with you for this one.”
“No. I’ll be fine.”
“Taking your first baby is not easy. I can be there with you for moral support.”
“I said, no.” Feeling sorry for being rude to Violet, the only one who has ever tried to be friendly with him, he stopped and turned toward her. “Sorry. I know you only want to help.”
Curiously she asked, “How come this is your first baby?”
Daimhin shrugged. “Just been lucky, I suppose.”
“I had to fetch a baby after my first decade. I know newbies don’t collect babies because it can be emotional, but you have been here for – what?” Her eyes glanced at a point beyond his shoulder as she thought. “Three hundred years?” She looked back at him for confirmation.
“Almost three hundred,” he replied dismissively.