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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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.
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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.”
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.