The Spark · Opening excerpt

He tumbled head over heels through the clouds, wings flapping wildly in all the wrong directions. His halo spun off like a runaway hubcap, glittering somewhere above him. With a panicked look of despair, he thought, “Note to self: ground—rapidly approaching.”

“NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO—!”

Arms, legs, feathers—everything was chaos.

“Yep… that’s me. You’re probably wondering how I managed to ‘trip’ out of Heaven on my first day. It starts with two names: Aurin and Zephiel. The Tweedle-Dee Brothers in white… up there laughing, that’s how!”

“WHUMPH!”

A geyser of snow explodes skyward, scattering in slow motion, glittering in the morning light like confetti from a very confused parade.

Silence.

Then the mound of snow twitches. A muffled grunt escapes, followed by one lonely arm poking out of the drift like a flag of surrender.

From the wreckage rose a thoroughly rumpled angel—wings crooked, white suit wrinkled, one shoe missing. Snow clings to his lashes as he blinks and exhales a long puff of frosty air.

“Well… that could’ve gone better,” he mutters.

Excerpt from the author’s Gus the Guardian manuscript, Chapter 1. Paragraph spacing has been adapted for reading online.