Genre: Paranormal NA
Word count: 72,000
Not everyone turns seventeen twice, unless you’re a Conduit—a reincarnated human contracted to reap souls.
For Liv Hartley, a second chance means a new college, and David, a new love interest. When another Conduit, Asher, steals her first assignment, it lands her in hot water with her afterlife caseworker. To redeem herself, she delivers a message to a demon. When Liv’s life is threatened, Asher protects her by binding his soul to hers. Liv discovers there’s more to Asher than his bad boy attitude, movie-star looks, and addictive touch.
Even though Liv has fallen for David, she can’t shake her feelings for Asher. David is kind and honest, and promises a future Liv could never have with Asher. But when Liv gets her toughest assignment yet—to reap David’s soul—she must decide whether to follow through with the contract or risk losing her soul instead.
All the people with near-death experiences got it wrong. There’s no light at the end of the tunnel. There’s a lobby, like the entrance to a ritzy hotel, with level upon level of balconies that stretch on forever.
“Next!” A disembodied voice thunders from overhead speakers.
The line, with more twists and turns than the one for the Matterhorn, moves a few inches. I step forward. The soul in front of me doesn’t. Before I realize what’s happening, I’m standing in him.
“Sorry.” I step back and shake off the Jello-like feel of his energy. Gross.
That’s when I spot the balding Dean of Accounting, Professor Burstein, in his penny loafers and plaid sweater vest. He stalks toward me like I’ve cheated on a test or taken the last cookie at a student-faculty mixer.
“Mr. Burstein?” I can’t keep the surprise, and disgust, from my voice.
On Friday, he’d given a pop-quiz. Governmental Tax Law. If he’s dead, I’m guessing a fellow senior retaliated against his self-aggrandizing soapbox speeches and appearance-based grading pyramid.
“Not exactly, Ms. Lamb. My name is Marvin. I find it’s easier on transitioning souls when I appear as someone they recognize.”
I push a lock of frizzy brown hair from my eyes and stare at his gnarly sweater vest. “You can look like anyone?” My gaze moves from his stubby, fat fingers to his shock of orange hair. “I can totally give you a better suggestion.”