Please Vote for my Picture books, “The Night that Santa Stole, I mean Borrowed, My Sleigh!” and “If I was a Dog!”

For the first part of this story of a guardian angel falling in love with his “assignment”, go here.

At least, it almost did.  Slamming against a wall of cold air, a chrome bumper quivered inches from my nose.  I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move.

But I did.  Without a single thought, my body was twisted up into the air, away from the car and above the ground.  Whirling like a ball of pizza dough, I dropped onto the hood.  My hips slammed against steel as soft as a mattress, barely thudding as my shoes smacked the windshield.  Staring into the shocked face of the driver, a faint outline of a boy stared over my shoulder.  A burst of icy wind brushed past my cheek, tangling my white hair as the pale eyes behind me faded into the glare of the sunlight.

“Hey!” I cried, twisting around.  ”Hey, where’d you go!” Jerking around, I grabbed the slick hood as I began to slide across.  A car door slammed and two hands grabbed me, steadying me against a faded denim jacket. “Are you ok?  Is anything broken?”  The man’s voice rose to a panicked shriek.  ”Call an ambulance!”

“I don’t need an ambulance.”  I shook him off, peering into the bright afternoon California sunlight.  Dozens of concerned shoppers were hurrying toward me, drivers plastered to their cell phones as they gaped at me through their windshields.  My mother was going to be either thrilled or furious.  I was guessing the second.  ”Did you see that boy?  The boy that saved me?”

“Boy?” The driver blinked.  ”What boy?  I only saw the dog and then you…thank God I had the brakes checked last week.”  He shuddered.  ”Call an ambulance!” he bellowed.  ”Call 911!”

“I don’t need 911,” I insisted, sliding off the hood.  Several hands steadied me, plastering me against the car.  ”But there was a boy…where did the boy go?”

“She’s got a concussion!” A woman shrieked, eavesdropping on the fringes.

“ARELLA!”  Delaney’s scream shattered the symphony of concerned mummers as she burst through the crowd, reaching for me.

“Delaney!” I smiled up at the man.  ”It’s ok.  My best friend will take care of me.”

“But we should have a doctor look at you…”  The man trailed off, twisting the edges of his jacket.  ”If you’re injured…we need a police report.”

“It’s ok.  I told you. The boy saved me.”

“What boy?” The man demanded.  ”There was no boy!  Just you!”

“The boy saved me!” I insisted.  ”He was right there!”

“She’s got a concussion!” the woman shrieked, announcing it to the world.

“I don’t have a concussion!” I snapped.

“I’ll take care of her from here, sir.”  Delaney threaded her arm through mine, holding up a hand as the man stepped forward.  ”It’s ok.  I’m taking her to her mom’s shop across the road.”

“But if she’s hurt and she sues me”–

“I won’t sue you and I’m not hurt.  I promise.”  I clutched onto Delaney, muttering, “Get me out of here!”

“Move, people!” Delaney bellowed, waving her arms like a deranged farmer shooing cows.  ”Move!”

And, just like a herd of cows, the people shuffled automatically to the side, staring as Delaney escorted me across the street.  Hurrying through the shop door, she forced me into an overstuffed reindeer chair.  Her hands flew around me, pressing against my face, chest and ribs.  ”Where does it hurt?  Can you breathe?  Did you puncture a lung?”

“I’m fine.”  I batted her hands away.  ”I told you, that boy saved me.”  Pressing my nose against the window, I frowned.  ”Where did he go?”

“Arella, I think you have a concussion.” Delaney stared at me, her normally porcelain face the color of her scarlet curls.  She pressed a hand against her own ribs, rubbing the thin fabric.  ”There was no boy.”

“There was a boy,” I insisted.  ”He’s the one that saved me!”

Delaney shook her head.  ”What were you doing anyway?  You could have been killed!”

“I saw Mrs. McCluster’s dog in the road.”  I trailed off.  ”What?”

Delaney’s eyes narrowed.  ”Arella, Mrs. McCluster’s dog gets out every day.  Every single day.  You bolted into traffic for that? AGAIN?  After you almost got killed last week doing the exact same thing?  What did I tell you then?”

I winced.  ”That I was lucky to be alive?”

“Now you’re not lucky.  You’re a freaking miracle.” Delaney threw her hands up in the air.  ”For an 18-year-old girl, you have the sense of a three year old.”

I gave her a weak smile.  ”Are you mad?”

“I’m not mad, I’m scared.  Your head was an inch from that bumper.”  Delaney shuddered.  ”It’s like someone picked you up and threw you on the hood.  I’ve never seen anyone move that fast.”

“I told you, that boy saved me!” I grabbed her hands.  ”Delaney, you know me.  I’m not graceful.  I’m not coordinated.  I can barely walk.  How would I do some kind of cool super-hero move like that?”

Delaney shrugged.  ”Adrenaline?  Mothers can lift cars off their kids.  Maybe you were so desperate to save that stupid dog”–

“It’s not stupid!”

“The only thing more stupid than that dog is the fact you give it treats and try to rescue it from being roadkill daily.  It’s stupid.  It’s a stupid, stupid dog!”  Delaney shuddered.  ”I know you think it’s funny, but this time you almost died, Arella.”

“You’re being overdramatic, Delaney.”

“I’m not being overdramatic.  You didn’t see what I saw.”  Delaney glanced at the clock and groaned.  ”I’m really late now.  Can you come over at 7 without getting yourself killed, or do you need to go push an old woman off the train tracks?”

“The only train in Christmas is the little one at the mall.”  She didn’t laugh and I sighed.  ”I’ll be good, I promise.”

“Thank you.”  Delaney pulled open the door, silver jingle bells rattling against the glass.  ”I’ll tell you something though, Arella.  The only boy that could have saved you would have been a guardian angel.  Not even a football player could move that fast.”  The silver bells slammed behind her, a jangle of clashing metal as she hurried back across the same street I nearly died on.

Staring at Mrs. McCluster as she snuggled her dog on the sidewalk, I reached up, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear.  Something soft brushed my fingertips.  Pinching a hard end, I extracted a thin white feather from my hair.

A very strange, glowing feather.

Please vote for my picture book, “The Night that Santa Stole, I mean Borrowed, My Sleigh!” and “If I was A Dog!” The Winning book will have copies donated to my elementary school!

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