Prayer for the Dead Release Day.
This is the
story about a girl who lived, died, and met a guy… in that order.
Is it possible to find true love and happiness, while
condemned to purgatory until the ends of days?
Olivia Brennan wasn’t eager to find out. Working for a
division of Purgatory and Associates, her job consisted of one headache after
another, caused by the impatient souls waiting to move onto eternal paradise.
After a hard day at work, she was most content to stay home, watching reruns or
reading a book. Aside from a few friends occasionally forcing socialization,
her afterlife was nothing special.
That all changed the moment Drake walked into her
life. He was handsome, charming, and had a sadness behind his eyes she could
relate to. It seemed that Fate had finally brought her a kindred spirit…
But could Olivia
move past her own dark regrets of the life she left behind or would falling for
him demand the ultimate sacrifice—herself?
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Sounds AWESOME right?
About the author
Nicki Scalise lives in Colorado with her
husband, Jon. They share their home with four dogs and a chinchilla. Prayer for
the Dead is her first novel.
Other Works
Paranormal
Anthology with a Twist featuring the short-
Little
Tchochkes
Apocalypse:
An Anthology by Authors and Readers featuring the short - Cheyenne Mountain
Stalkers
Anthology featuring the short –
Connect Nicki:
Teaser
I
stole a peek across the desk at the blonde in a cheerleader’s uniform. The
young face was scrunched up in an unflattering scowl, sizing me up as she
smacked her gum. The behavior was rude but since she’d just been through a
major upheaval, I gave Chelsea some leeway. I decided comfort was a better
option as opposed to discipline. So I chose to break the ice with the tried and
true standbys of compassion and hospitality.
“Hello
Chelsea, my name is Olivia and I’m going to be your liaison.”
POP!
Chelsea
and I stared at each other in silence. Besides being given the cold shoulder,
there was something about this girl rubbing me the wrong way. She reminded me
of someone, but I couldn’t place whom.
I
forced a smile in her direction. “Did your Reaper explain everything to you?”
Receiving nothing more than an eye roll in response, I tried again. “You
understand where you are and what’s happened, correct?”
“Yeah,
I know where I am. Wanna know why?” I raised my brows, waiting for the smart-mouthed
answer that was sure to come, “Because I’m not stupid.”
Oh
right… I knew who she reminded me of, every snotty bitch that made my high
school experience a living hell. Oh boy, lucky me, I get to put up with her for
the next week.
Why
can’t I ever just get a nice old lady who’ll sit with her hands folded neatly
in her lap and patiently await her turn? Her silver hair would be curled in a
halo around a tiny face, she’d call me “dear”, and, when I’d apologize for the
wait, she’d pat my hand saying, “It’s all right, honey. I’m in no hurry.” But
no, instead I get Chelsea the cheerleader.
I hate cheerleaders.
I hate cheerleaders.
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