Bllie Joe Armstrong & Norah Jones "Silver Haired Daddy Of Mine"

So this one garnered a lot of votes on the mvyradio Top 25 of 2013, which I found pretty interesting, since, when we opened the voting in mid-November, the record hadn't even been released yet!

I have often wondered if many of the people who vote are just enjoying the singles we play on the air, and voting on that basis, without hearing the full album.

And though I can offer my opinion that it IS deserving of being in the Top 25 (because I've heard the record), the way the voting went seems to confirm my suspicions.


Hear the song on Youtube.

Frank Turner "I Still Believe"

While everyone is working and/or revealing their "Top" lists for the year (including MVY), sometimes, your best discoveries of the year are things that didn't actually come out that year.

I knew Frank Turner's name when his album "Tape Deck Heart" came out this year.  I had a vague recollection that I had liked what I heard previously, but MVY hadn't played anything by him and I hadn't listened to deeply.

Clearly, I hadn't listen to deeply.

Because after I was instantly won over by his 2013 single "Recovery," and delved into the album, I happened to be cleaning up in the MVY basement and found an old copy of "England Keep My Bones."

And THAT record hasn't come out of my CD player in a month.

Falling somewhere between Bruce Springsteen and Billy Bragg (with a little bit of Richard Thompson's knack for making original songs sound like ancient traditional tunes on songs like "English Curse), this kind of thing is right up my alley.  It's a shame I missed it the first time around.

But this 2011 release is one of my favorites for 2013.


Hear the song on Youtube.

Mini Blog Series ~ Going Rogue

Hey Lovelies,
There really isn't much more of Going Rogue left! After you read this one, there is only 1 more chapter left! If you are behind, they are really short chapters around a page-page and a half each. Continuing Aaron's journey...

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4

                     Going Rogue

Chapter Five

Aaron

The days were getting colder and the days had become a blur. It had snowed and I was thankful of the coat that I had stolen. I yanked on my cap to further cover my ears. When I was little I loved the snow, I use to pretend that I was like Neil Armstrong with my boots leaving prints in the snow. My mom hated the cold, but she would bundle the two of us up on snow days to go outside. She would have snowball fights with me, always letting me win. We would stay outside till our noses and cheeks were pink then we'd go inside to get into pajamas with a mug of hot chocolate. I watched the smoke form with the last breath I took. I was never going to see my mom ever again. The flash of her being disappointed in the last time we spoke came before me.

I shook my head. I had to focus on the snow days, not my teen years with her. Staring above me the clouds were dark still from the night before's snow fall.

"I hope you can see me up there. I'm trying to do better for you and dad."

My heart fell down to my stomach. I needed to get back to Lauren. I could hear my mom's voice telling me that I shouldn't run away from my troubles. Though I'm pretty sure Lauren is exactly the type of girl my mom would have tried to set me up with. She didn't care for the ones that I brought home, or the few that I did bring home. I chuckled, God, mom would try to marry Lauren and me together if she was still around. She wanted lots of grandchildren, just not right then.

My mom would make cookies with me sometimes after school, I think we ate more of the dough than the actual cookies. As much as my dad and I had a special relationship where he took me to get my tattoo, my mom was the one that I could talk to. She and I built a fort the first week that I moved in with them.

I shoved my hands into my pockets as I thought back to how nervous I was. I had spent the time that I could remember in a couple of foster homes before I was told I was getting adopted. I didn't trust my new parents. I had been shuffled around a few times that I didn't actually believe that they would keep me. I would barely talk to them, I picked at my food. I came down one morning to see a blanket fort in the living room with a plate of cinnamon buns inside.

I had tip toed over to the blanket. They left me alone that day while I sat in the fort and I fell asleep in it. The next morning I woke up and saw my mom coming down the stairs. She had her hair tied back so that when she bent down to look at me I could look into her eyes. She had the warmest smile that I had ever seen.

"I use to build forts like this for my cousin's when we were growing up. Do I still have the skills?"

I remember laughing and she asked to join me in the fort. When I nodded she sat down next to me and talked about her family growing up. Eventually I got hungry and we ate breakfast. She got me. She always did. My mom got that I needed to do things on my time. She was the greatest mom.

"Mom, I know I never said it enough, but I love you. I promise I will make you proud. I didn't do much of that before you-" I paused unable to say out loud that she was gone. "I know I have to go back, even when you're gone you're still steering me in the right direction."

I turned on my heel towards a certain girl.

Tom Jones "Dimming Of The Day"

For the Weekend Post, a few more fun 2013 covers.

Tom Jones showed why he's still on the receiving end of a barrage of ladies undergarments . . . strip away the artifice of production, and his voice is clear and true and incredibly strong, like on this Richard Thompson cover.

Jump to the song, here.

Economic challenges will be Kejriwal's acid test

A lot of us have been for years saying that India will not change unless we change the way we do politics. A few attempts have been made in the past to bring about that change.

In mid-70s, when many thought that Indira Gandhi was getting dictatorial and corrupt, Janata Party was cobbled together. In an unbelievable electoral wave, she and her Congress were swept out of power in 1977. She herself lost her seat to someone called Raj Narain.

The Janata Party experiment was largely reactionary: it set up Shah Commission and hounded Indira Gandhi. Their undoing was they practised the same politics as Congress. Morarji Desai as PM couldn't keep the disparate power centres together. The same Congress, the same Indira Gandhi, came back to power in three years.

Her son, Rajiv Gandhi, gave us lot of hope. He tried cleaning up the system, and called upon bureaucrats and technocrats to come to public life. Even now there are many talented people, young and old, in the Congress. But none of them are able to break out of the party’s culture; and instead of reforming the system, they have virtually merged with the system. The BJP, positioned itself as an alternative with a different approach, but in many ways, they are no different from the Congress.

For the first time, a group of educated people, not belonging to any established political parties, but sworn to public service, took corruption as a major issue, and decided to clean up the system by getting into the system. (Of course, AAP was helped to great extent by Anna Hazare's Lokpal campaign.) That’s the reason why the AAP victory in Delhi assembly elections and today’s formation of new AAP-headed Delhi government is historic.

So far the AAP story has been a heady mixture of populism and idealism. Nothing wrong with that. But now they will have to find space for hard reality too. The AAP movement grew on India's anger against corruption. But corruption is a part of India’s socio-economic culture. Changing the way we do politics will now have to extend to changing that culture.

For example, we have been brought up on freebies and subsidies. A lot of these, which should actually go to the poor, go to people who don't need it, the upper middle class and rich. Our economy and development policies are in a shambles; and that’s one reason why our infrastructure and standard of living are way poorer than what they should actually be. Political changes are easier compared to economic changes. And therein lies Kejriwal’s acid test.

AAP and Kejriwal have a real battle ahead. But as of now, they are the best bet we have. They are not only talking idealism, but also making every effort to practise it

(Crossposted from Kaleidoscope)

Allen Stone "Rocky Mountain High"

For the Weekend Post, a few more fun 2013 covers.

This one comes from "The Music Is You" a tribute to John Denver . . .


Hear the song on Youtube.

Sarah Jarosz "Simple Twist Of Fate"

Every year I entertain the thought of adding some extra categories to the Top 25 on MVY.

We do the Top 25 albums.

And for the last several years, we've done the Top 5 singles of the year.  But I haven't been able to marshal the forces necessary to come up with some other mini-lists, like "Comeback Of The Year" or "Collaboration Of The Year."

On the surface they are great ideas, but it would take more research than I have time for, to put together a candidates list.

One possibility near and dear to my heart, would be "Cover Song Of The Year."

I do a set of Live Acoustic and Cover tunes every day, so I'm always on the hunt.  But the list of possibilities is so broad, I'd hesitate to make a list meant to represent MVY for fear of missing some great cover.

That being said, along with The Slide Brothers doing "Praise You," Sarah Jarosz taking a crack at another Bob Dylan tune is one of my favorite covers of the year.


Hear the song on Youtube.

Justin Timberlake & Carey Mulligan "500 Miles"

Well, I don't want to give too much away about the mvyradio Top 25 of 2013, but I WILL do a couple of posts, leading up the countdown which will start on Monday.

Every year there are a few surprises on the voting list.  Some more surprising than others.

We did have an internal discussion here at mvyradio about whether or not we should include the "Inside Llewyn Davis" soundtrack on the list.

On the "pro" side, it is a really excellent album.  Typical T Bone Burnett brilliance.

On the "con" side, the album consists mainly of covers and previously released songs.  In the past, we have excluded "covers" albums from the Top 25.

But in this case, the question was moot:  "Inside Llewyn Davis" received ZERO votes from MVY listeners for the Top 25 of 2013.

I find this a bit perplexing, and I don't really have an explanation for it.

We offered "Inside Llewyn Davis" as a gift for a donation to Friends of mvyradio, and it went quickly.  The album---and the movie---are getting rave reviews.  Folks are calling in about the single "Fare Thee Well."  Clearly, people do like this record out there in listener-land.

Zero votes?

I can't explain it.  But you won't hear it on the countdown next week.


Hear the song on Youtube.

Vince Guaraldi Trio "A Charlie Brown Christmas"

In the old days, we had albums . . . and we put them on for Christmas.

Maybe you don't have your albums anymore.  But here's an album to stream.

Enjoy.  Merry Christmas.


Hear the full album on Youtube.

Jackson 5 "Up On The House Top"

What's the oldest Christmas song?  "Jingle Bells."  Next?  "Up On The House Top" which was written in 1864.

Though I'm guessing Benjamin Hanby didn't really hear his poem quiet like The Jackson 5 does it.


Hear the song on Youtube.

James Brown "Santa Claus Go Straight To The Ghetto"

James Brown has, like, 5 original songs about Santa.

It’s an interesting fact that you are reading.  Important stuff!  It must be, because you are a looking at it!

And if you are still reading this, then I’m pretty sure you are just surfing around online because a) You have Christmas stuff you are supposed to be doing and you are avoiding, b) you are stuck at work and not getting a dang thing done, c) you don’t celebrate Christmas but are surrounded by people experiencing “a” and “b.”


Hear the song on Youtube.


Hear "Soulful Christmas" on Youtube.

Mini Blog Series ~ Going Rogue

Hey Lovelies!
I can't believe is week 4 of the mini blog series. This is a story that will help you get to know Aaron from End of the Line.

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
                    Going Rogue

Chapter Four

Aaron

It had been a week and I was still at the house for a couple of reasons. First, I wanted to leave after the ash had dissipated. Second, I didn't know where else to go. There was not much food here so I knew I had to be on the move at some point especially since I could have sworn that I have been seeing movement in the bushes. My hope was that there were some deers or bunnies moving around, but I was pretty sure I saw some flickering of lights. I was avoiding walking by the windows or the glass back door because every nerve of mine was on edge. Something was up.

Pacing around the master bedroom where I had been sleeping I tried to think of a way out. Leaving when it was dark would be the best idea. Keeping flesh against the wall I glanced out the window. If I got a little bit of a running start I might be able to jump and grab onto one of the tree branches on that oak. I must be losing it. A running leap into a tree? My luck I'd miss the branch and break my neck. Well, that would be one way to get Manson off my back.

Glancing out again the sky was full of oranges, pinks, and purples spreading across the sky. Whatever I was going to do, I was going to have to do it soon. I grabbed the jacket that I had found in the house, it was a little big on me, but I figured it was better than nothing. Walking into the bathroom I turned on the facet and the water sprayed out in spurts. I grabbed a clean razor and wetted it under the water. I quickly shaved my face of peach fuzz before grabbing some scissors to trim my hair. Who knows when I'd get the chance. I cut my hair to almost the scalp and put on a hat hoping to keep my head warm.

It probably was dumb to cut all my hair before I left, but not being able to wash my hair was getting to me. I couldn't imagine what Lauren felt about her own hair, it was much longer than mine. I thought back to when we first arrived to the house in Pennsylvania and she showered. Her hair looked so soft.

I shook my head and went to the window again. The bushes were rustling around the house. I cursed under my breath. They found me. I zipped the coat up and opened the window slowly. There were a couple of heads popping up around the trees and they were popping up to point in another direction. I crouched low to the frame and ducked my head. Once I had one foot over it let the other half of my body to follow suit. Keeping low to the roof though I crawled over to the tree. I stopped when I got close to the tree and watched a man go to the front door.

Taking my chance I leapt to the tree with a thud. I bit my tongue to hold back the yell from the new bruises. Working quickly I climbed down and ran down the street with shouts behind me. My feet hit the pavement and I tried to think of where I should go. A bullet whizzed by me and hit the car that I was near. Cursing I turned towards the woods, I tried to pick up my pace, yet not trip over any rocks. Dashing out of the woods when I heard leaves crushing behind me I bolted for a nearby car and climbed into the back of the car. Once I was in the back I laid down and pulled a lone sweatshirt over my feet. Taking off my coat quickly and I draped it over my upper half. Closing my eyes I tried to tune out my own racing heart to listen for foot steps. Slow breath in the nose. Hold. Hold. Release.

"Where the hell did he go?" a voice in the distance yelled.

"People don't vanish, go look for him."

I tried to make my breathing even to limit the movement. I would be trapped with no place to escape to if they found me. Air was trapped in my throat though when I heard the foot steps near the car. I needed to live. I needed to be able to see the group again. I know I complained about them in the beginning, but I needed to live for them.

The sky was completely dark by the time I didn't hear any whispers or steps. Slowly sitting up I stayed on the floor to peek through the bottom of the windows. It seemed to be clear. I put my coat back on fell asleep on the back seat.

Spinal Tap "Christmas With The Devil"

Here's another Weekend Post:

Uh, it always did weird me out that “Santa” is an anagram for “Satan.”  !!!


Hear the song on Youtube.

Weekend posts are a chance to revisit songs that have happy memories, not of anything in particular, other than just hearing the tunes.

Many of these songs were tracks that I played during my 90s stint as an Alternative/Modern Rock radio show.  They're tunes that I hardly hear these days, but are fun to revisit.

Click on the "Weekend Posts" label below, to see other posts like this.

Soul Coughing "Suzy Snowflake"

Here's another Weekend Post:

Holy weird obscurities.  I’d forgotten about this cover.  And when the cover had come out, I had forgotten the original!


Hear the song on Youtube.

Weekend posts are a chance to revisit songs that have happy memories, not of anything in particular, other than just hearing the tunes.

Many of these songs were tracks that I played during my 90s stint as an Alternative/Modern Rock radio show.  They're tunes that I hardly hear these days, but are fun to revisit.

Click on the "Weekend Posts" label below, to see other posts like this.

Alicia Witt & Ben Folds "I'm Not Ready For Christmas"

Call me cynical, but these days, there is only one reason write a Christmas song:

For the mailbox money.

Unlike other songs, which have a regular arc of popularity, in that they play, they gain popularity, and they fade over a period of months or years or (if the songwriter is lucky) decades.

Christmas songs are different.  They fade from January to October, to return in November and December.  The cycle repeats.

If you are lucky enough to write a Christmas song that will get played from year to year---and the bar to clear to join that club is pretty low---then as a songwriter, you’ll be getting publishing check for years to come.

So it’s not surprising that Alicia Witt and Ben Folds were able to create a memorable, hummable Christmas tune.

What’s unfortunate is that it ain’t so FCC friendly.

Even though this song beats the pants off a lot of the 2nd rate stuff that gets played on radio at Christmas, it’s not likely to see the attention---or ASCAP/BMI fees---that it could potentially create . . .

So blast this one on your own.  But remember that it’s NSFW.

Parkington Sisters "Christmastime Is Here"

Though it may be Christmastime, as a rule I'm pretty stingy.  At least when it comes to giving out my email address.

Yes, you can get yourself tons of coupons and free shipping and samples and discounts and gift cards and hoo-hah, if you acquiesce to the demand that you get on somebody's mailing list.

No interested.  I get enough junk mail.

But every once and a while, it's worth it.

Like when you can get a free Parkington Sisters Christmas EP.

Enjoy!  And listen for their version of "Christmastime In Here" in rotation at mvyradio.

Lady Margaret Savile's monument, Hurst.

Back in September, because of one of those days where people cycle to raise money for charity round as many churches as they can, I was able at last to get inside a church I have ridden or driven past many times, the Church of St Nicholas in Hurst, Berkshire, just to the east of Reading. I must have had a notion that a church so consistently locked might have something inside worth seeing, and so it proved, a sensational set of monuments.

Chief among them is this extravaganza commemorating Lady Margaret Savile, who died at the age of 73 in 1631. She is in the centre, facing her third and most distinguished husband, Sir Henry Savile, Mathematician, Astronomer, Historian of Science, translator (in his lodgings at Merton, the '5th committee', responsible for the Gospels, Acts of the Apostles, and the Book of Revelations in the King James Bible met, Savile's knowledge of Greek making him the only layman involved in the translation).

We can perhaps imagine the two of them are praying over open copies of the text he helped produce. Savile had died in 1622, Margaret had erected a monument to him in Merton College Chapel. The brochure available in the church cites Elias Ashmole as saying that there was formerly an infant in a cradle in front of them. The monument says she had two sons by Savile, who both died young.

To the left in this matriachal frieze are the figures on two of Margaret's daughters: Lady Anne Carleton (from her first marriage to George Garrard) and Lady Elizabeth Sidley, her daughter by Savile.

To the right are the figures of Lady Francis Harison, youngest of her daughters by her first husband, and her husband Sir Richard Harison of Hurst. The whole monument is here because Margaret wanted 'to deposite her body in the place where living she had found soe much content & soe sweet a repose in her age' - she had lived with this couple in Hurst in her final years.

The solidity of these figures, their prayerful calm, is offset by a great swagger of marble drapery, with angels and cherubs pulling aside or lifting the curtains to disclose this undramatic scene of family prayer:

Studded here and there are the shields that spell out the dynastic stuff, and further cartouches crown the whole structure, this monument that is almost a building

Urns, shields, tassels, strapwork, fringes, inscriptions, curlicues, ribbonwork, scrolls, swags: it is the very height of early 17th century taste, that taste for which the quip that 'less is more' never had any meaning: more is more.

It is Lady Margaret's own monument. It commemorates her three husbands, but depicts just the last (I guess it must be the case that while men can freely have themselves depicted between wives, a widow could not have a line-up of her late spouses without some indecorum of effect). Sir George Savile is not here given any particular allusions to point to his achievements in learning, the angels are not indicated to be allegorical. This stony splendour is a fossil of her taste. The impression one has of matrilineage is perhaps wrong: three daughters are indeed present, but we should remember that the top order of the monument did originally commemorate one of the lost infant sons, and the remaining five of Margaret's nine children (two male, three female) are in smaller and now headless effigies below the rank of inscriptions:

.

Diana Nixon ~ The Souls of Rain

Hey Lovelies, check out this upcoming novel!

Pre-release promo tour

The Souls of Rain (Heavens Trilogy, # 1)

By Diana Nixon

COMING Out December 18^th, 2013

Synopsis

The secrets of the heavens had always been carefully guarded. Until one day when the angels realized that what they used to believe in was nothing but a cruel game between heaven and hell.

And Claire’s life is a part of that game too. She is a guardian angel.

She always thought that her existence was perfect. But perfection is a very relative term, and no one is protected from making mistakes.

Everything changes the moment Claire gets a new assignment. Guarding humans has never been easy, and this time won’t be an exception.

Alan Rosenford is a spoilt party-boy, whose life is a hurricane of risk and adrenaline rush. His soul is damaged, his heart is bleeding, and there are so many things he prefers to keep private….

The words they have never said before …

The sins they have never committed….

How much does forgiveness of the heavens cost?

Or maybe even the heavens make mistakes?....

Watch BOOK TRAILER:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G4oWu96SCUc&feature=youtu.be

Trailing my fingers over the lines of your face,

Kissing your lips and melting in your embrace,

Enjoying the warmth and drinking in the moment,

Leading multiple lives feels like a pure torment.

Falling even deeper in love with you,

Discovering all the things I never knew,

Evolving into someone better and someone new,

I’ll stay for one more day, or maybe for a few,

To build up my strength to live centuries without you.

I’ll follow you to the deserts and across the oceans,

Desperate for changes and overwhelming emotions;

I’ll stay with you on the earth, or follow you to the sky,

Only with you can I breathe and feel myself alive.

Holding hands, we walk between the silver raindrops,

With the snow-white doves flying around us;

Leaving for the memories we shared, lives ago,

Can we put them back together? No one knows.

Look around and tell me what you see,

There’s no one else in sight, but you and me,

Chasing away the darkness and stormy clouds,

Just the way it was always meant to be.

Living like there’s nothing left to lose,

No one to forgive, no one to accuse.

When the bridges of hope come crashing down,

In the bewitching sounds of love we drown,

As we kiss away each other’s worst fears,

Banishing regrets, pains and bitter tears.

Take a breath and wait for the long tomorrow,

If I disappear in the shadows, find me and follow,

Rescue me in the midst of my endless night,

Turn the pale moon into bright daylight,

Make this heart of mine miss a beat,

Only with you is my soul complete.

Prologue

Three angels were standing in the middle of a round, crystal room. Their long, silver cloaks were swaying slowly in the wind; the rustle of their wings was the only sound breaking the intense silence. One of them, a woman with curly, strawberry-blond hair that went to her feet, raised her hand and a huge, white cloud formed in front of her.

“The girl deserves to know the truth,” she said to the others.

“This is insane,” a male angel replied, shaking his head. He ran one palm through his messy, sandy hair; his big, blue eyes seemed to be brighter than the sky itself. “What if something goes wrong?” He stared nervously at the picture appearing inside the cloud.

“We are losing control over her.”

“She’s right,” the other male angel said. “It’s not safe to keep her here.” His golden eyes shifted impatiently between his companions. “We need to send her back to the earth.”

“You will follow her,” the woman said, looking at the blue-eyed angel. He was the youngest of the three of them, and his age was the only thing that stopped him from breaking the order. He didn’t want to spy on anyone. He used to be one of the best guardian angels, until one day he made a mistake and was obliged to follow the orders of the top-ranked angels. It was the worst part of his punishment; he hated being told what to do.

“You didn’t have to say that,” he snapped, meeting the woman’s emotionless eyes. Sometimes it was really hard to believe that she was an angel, and not a demon wearing snow-white wings. “You know I would have never left her unprotected.”

“Right.” The other angel smirked.

“Albert,” the woman hissed, warningly. Her voice sounded calm, but the intonation said it all — she didn’t approve fights between her subordinates. “This meeting is over. I’ll see you two later.” And just like that she disappeared, making the air in the room crackle. Albert grimaced at the force of energy left after her disappearance. He wasn’t as strong as she was, and the powers she possessed always made him uneasy. He looked one last time at the blue-eyed angel and followed the woman.

Left alone, the angel stared at the picture of the girl he was supposed to spy on. The girl was a guardian angel. She was slim and beautiful; with long, black hair and big green eyes, shadowed by the curling lashes.

She was walking down the alley surrounded by the age-old oaks, watching her fosterling. She seemed to be relaxed, but in reality her every instinct was on alert. Her wings were outspread, and though no human could see her like that, the creatures of the heavens always knew when she was on duty.

 “I won’t let you down, Claire,” the angel swore in a whisper, making the cloud in front of him turn black. “Never again….”

Chapter 1

I was staring at the file in my hands. It was thick and heavy, and I didn’t have the slightest desire to read it.

“What’s this?” I asked Bert, my trainer.

“Your new assignment,” he said, walking down the hall that led to the training rooms.  

I raised my eyebrows in surprise. “My new assignment? Seriously?”

“Yes. Why?” He opened the door to one of the rooms and led me to the wall with crystal daggers.

“I was reassigned just a few days ago, remember? No angel changes humans so often!”

“It’s not your call, Claire. They give commands, you execute them. Period.” He gave me one of the daggers to replace the one I broke last night, trying to kill a demon following my fosterling. “Be careful with the weapons. You are the only guardian angel who breaks them so often.”

“I’m also the only guardian angel who destroys the biggest number of demons.”

“True.” Bert smiled briefly, and looked at the wound on my right wing. “Close your eyes, I will heal it.”

I sighed and obeyed, waiting for Bert’s powers to deal with the wound. It didn’t hurt much, but the feeling wasn’t pleasant either. Guardian angels couldn’t heal themselves. We always needed the help of other angels, whose powers were different from ours.

 My thoughts switched back to my new assignment, and I sighed again. Bert was right, I couldn’t help matters. And neither could he. He was just a messenger in this case. I answered to him for my every step, but when it came to the orders of Santunary, he was as helpless as I was. 

No one could ignore the words of Ledons — top-ranked angels. They formed the Santunary: the highest and the cruelest governmental authority, and the most respectful body of the heavens (except for God, of course). There were no ‘ifs’for Ledons. They accepted only ‘yes’ or ‘no’. The last word was better not to pronounce if you cared about your life.

Ledons were followed by Deerons, our trainers. They guarded the gates of the heavens. No one could come or go without their permission, even the souls.

Then there was us, the guardian angels, followed by our loyal servants, the Pastreens. I didn’t know what exactly their duties consisted of, but they were a real pain in our necks; always watching us and laughing at our mistakes. Though sometimes they were really helpful, especially when it came to doing my hair or cleaning my wings.

“So who’s my new baby?” I asked the trainer. We called humans our babies, because we felt like their nannies that were always there for them, no matter how bad or good they really were.

“Why don’t you open the file?” Bert winked at me. Oh, no…it was a sign of bad news.

“Alan Rosenford,” I read the name, written on the file’s cover. “Who is he?”

“Just don’t tell me you’ve never heard about him! How long have you been working in New York…for two years? And you’ve never heard about Alan Rosenford?”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I haven’t.”

“Well, this is probably for the best.” Bert smirked and vanished. Literally.

Angels always appeared out of nowhere and disappeared as abruptly. But I hated when Bert did that. He never answered my questions, and he always left without saying good-bye. Not that it was the only unpleasant thing about my life. Nothing about it was normal actually.

Sometimes it felt like my life was an endless cascade of ups and downs. I could fly and I could walk; I could save and I could destroy. Heaven was my home, and the days I spent there couldn’t be compared with anything else; they were special.

But there were also days that I had to spend walking down the roads of sinful earth. Everything about them was even and painfully predictable.

Unlike those humans I guard, I don’t need to count seconds; I have a whole eternity to live. I don’t need sleep or food, though cakes and ice-cream are my weaknesses and the best things about my perfect life.

 I don’t have a family, and I never had one. I was created by the heavens. I don’t have friends, but I do have enemies. And all of them are demons — soulless, cruel creatures that make people do things they will have to spend forever in hell for.

My job is to protect humans from demons, making their lives better and happier. Funny enough, I’m the unhappiest creature in the world. It feels like my happiness is always near, and too far away at the same time.

There are things that I will probably never be able to understand. I don’t know what love means. It always felt like something mysterious and too unreal. But unlike humans, I can live perfectly well without it. As well as without boys, parties and other essential attributes of every girl’s life.

But there is one thing that I can’t live a single day without. My wings. They are my faith and an essential part of me. I can’t show them to humans, and every time I let them see me, they think I’m just a girl in my early twenties. Too bad no human girl knows how to cross the distance between two places in seconds.

I closed my eyes and imagined myself standing in the middle of my sky-blue living room. I liked the color. It reminded me of my true home and the sky that I liked gazing at so much.

I had a two-bedroom apartment not far away from Central Park. I didn’t have much time to spend there, but there were times, like today, when I wasn’t on duty. My last assignment, a five-year-old Annabel Walders left for a few days to visit her grandparents, but I couldn’t leave New York, so she was guarded by one of the local angels of Washington.

It was supposed to be a free weekend: no work, no demons; only freedom and me. Yeah, too good to be true….

I looked back at the files I was still holding in my hands. I never read people’s files. I liked making my own opinion about them. No matter how bad or perfect they were, the only thing I cared about were their souls. And even a criminal’s soul can be pure. Because when people kill or lie it means that demons win. It also means that angels lose. And we lose only if we don’t take our duties seriously. Usually it leads to becoming Pastreens. Or fallen. Both variants close the doors to the heavens and leave us wandering around the earth forever. And no matter how heavy the sin we commit is, we always want to be forgiven and returned to the heavens.

Speaking of sins….

“Nolan, what are you doing here?” I asked the fallen angel, standing behind me.

“Good to see you too, Claire.” He smiled, taking a seat on my couch. The guy didn’t need my permission to make himself at home.

Nolan was the only fallen who never wanted to be forgiven. At least that was what he was saying every time I asked him about his life. He liked living among humans. Though I never asked him about the rule he broke to be kicked out of the heavens.

“I heard about your new assignment,” he said, turning on the TV set.

“Why do you even care?” I crossed my arms, watching him curiously. I didn’t understand why Nolan liked spending time with me. My life was a picture of everything he couldn’t have.

“Because we are best friends. And friends always care about each other.”

I rolled my eyes. “We are far from being friends, Nolan. Let alone best friends. You are stalking me. This is how it calls.”

“Whatever you call it, the fact remains — I’m here, and I want to know how you feel about being Alan’s new babysitter.” He smiled again, and I desperately wanted to slap him in the face. God, forgive me.

“What is wrong with the guy that everyone is so worried about me guarding him?”

“Nothing’s wrong. He’s a good guy actually. He likes drinking, smoking, girls, and car racing.”

“Sounds like a typical description of a good guy.”

“Sarcasm doesn’t fit your pretty face, my angel. And Alan is a good guy. You will see.”

“Can’t wait,” I muttered, heading for the kitchen to get a piece of a strawberry pie I made earlier today.

“How can you think about food when your human is dying?” Nolan shouted after me.

I stopped and turned around, barely breathing. “What did you say?”

“Alan Rosenford was taken to the St. Mary’s hospital about an hour ago. He kissed a tree with a bumper of his new car.”

No more details were needed. I closed my eyes and sank into the red vortex of a bittersweet smoke that took me straight to the hospital ward.

The moment I opened my eyes the smell of drugs hit my nostrils. I hated hospitals. To me they always looked overcrowded. Hundreds of lost souls, whose physical bodies died and were not allowed to ascend to the heavens, were flying everywhere, making people shiver and shrink from the pure cold they consisted of. Humans didn’t see them, but I did.  And they did see me.

“He doesn’t look good,” Nolan said, coming closer to the bed where a guy in his mid twenties was sleeping. He was on a drip; about a dozen multicolored cables went from his body to the monitors on his left.

“I’m sure you wouldn’t look any better being him,” I said, examining the numerous bruises and scratches on the guy’s body. “How bad was the crash?”

“The boy will need a new car. But I don’t think he cares about a few more scars. It’s not his first accident.”

“You said he’s a car racer, right? How often does he get into accidents?”

“Every week or so.”

“Does he even care about his life?” I didn’t like people who risked their lives just to get an adrenaline rush. It meant their souls were hurt. And they didn’t want to do anything to heal them. Stupid humans…they didn’t know that losing a soul meant becoming demons.

“You didn’t read his file, did you?” Nolan chuckled at his own words. He knew I didn’t. “You should probably start reading files, Claire. It would save you plenty of time.”

“Thanks for the advice, Nolan. Maybe one day I will follow it.”

I took Alan’s hand in mine and tried to feel his soul. I was good at feeling souls. Not every angel could do that. It was one of my angelic powers that I had been trying to perfect every day, for the last seven centuries of my existence. And with every passing day I could tell more and more about the souls I was guarding.

“He is a good person,” I said, knowing that Nolan was still there with us. Every time I tried to feel someone’s soul, it felt like sinking into the depths of multicolored oceans, where every single word, action and thought had its own shade.

“I told you,” he said, and I smiled; my best friend liked being right.

I let go of Alan’s hand and breathed a sigh of relief. Guarding good people was always easier. Demons couldn’t get to their souls, and fighting them was as simple as anything.

I was good at fighting demons. They didn’t stand a chance with me. Especially when I was guarding children. They were like little angels to me, and I always felt sorry for the couples that couldn’t have them. It felt like the worst curse ever.

My new assignment wasn’t a child anymore, but something about him wasn’t right. His soul was too fragile and sensitive. Not a regular picture of a man’s soul. Maybe I should have read his file after all?…

“Hey…Claire, you okay?” Nolan asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I replied absently, still watching the guy on the bed. “How old is he?”

“Will turn twenty-five next week.”

Even with the dark-purple bruises all over his face and a swollen lip Alan looked much younger than his real age. I couldn’t say the same about his soul. If I didn’t know it belonged to him, I would say it was a soul of an eighty-year-old man. Suddenly I wanted to know what happened to make him get old too soon.

“Read the file, Claire,” Nolan said, as if reading my mind. “I need to go now, but if you need anything, call me, okay?”

I nodded and the fallen angel disappeared. He was always saying the same thing, “Call me, if you need me.” And we both knew that he would never be able to help me if I actually needed help. We played for different teams.

Copyright @ 2013, Diana Nixon

ADD THE BOOK TO YOU READING LISTS

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Cover Design by Jennifer Wieland

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OTHER BOOKS  by Diana Nixon:

Love Lines Series (YA/paranormal)

Love Lines (Live Lines, # 1) http://diananixon.blogspot.com/p/buying-books.html

Songs of the Wind (Love Lines, # 2) http://www.amazon.com/Songs-Wind-Gift-Lines-ebook/dp/B00AG0VLLG/ref=sr_1_9?ie=UTF8&qid=1380786065&sr=8-9&keywords=love+lines+diana+nixon

From Scratch (Love Lines, # 2.5) http://www.amazon.com/Scratch-Gift-Love-Lines-ebook/dp/B00CD5URJO/ref=sr_1_5?ie=UTF8&qid=1380786065&sr=8-5&keywords=love+lines+diana+nixon

Diamond Sky (Love Lines, # 3) http://www.amazon.com/Diamond-Sky-Love-Lines-ebook/dp/B00DVQSH64/ref=la_B007PY0IMO_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1380786245&sr=1-2

Hate at First Sight (A contemporary romance)

 http://www.amazon.com/Hate-First-Sight-Diana-Nixon-ebook/dp/B00G93ATDK/ref=sr_1_fkmr2_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1383047988&sr=8-1-fkmr2&keywords=love+lines+diana+nixon

About the author:

Diana Nixon is a poet and the author of fantasy and contemporary romances.

She was born in Minsk, Belarus, where she currently lives. In 2008 she graduated from Belorussian state University. She has a Master of Law degree and speaks several foreign languages, including English, Polish and Spanish.

Official page: http://www.diananixon.blogspot.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Diana-Nixon/203165316483322?ref=hl

Twitter: https://twitter.com/DianaNixon9

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5814368.Diana_Nixon

Buying books:

http://diananixon.blogspot.com/p/buying-books.html