Prologue

Bethany

I always thought my life would flash before my eyes in a moment of triumph. You know, the whole "I did it!" scenario. But as I lay sprawled naked on my bathroom floor, staring up at the ceiling that had witnessed way too many of my questionable decisions, I realized I was experiencing a far less glamorous version.

"Why did I think drinking an entire bottle of wine after adding CBD bath salts to the tub was a good idea?" I mumbled to myself, my voice echoing in the empty room. To be fair, I was fresh off being fired from my job as a secretary, so it was a pretty solid excuse for a bender.

My former boss, Mr. Thompson, had the charm of a wet sock and the emotional range of a brick wall. His parting words still echoed in my ears: "You lack focus, Bethany. Maybe find a job that better suits your...unique skill set."

Unique skill set? What did that even mean? I was just trying to keep my head above water in a sea of spreadsheets and office gossip.

But here I was, 25 years old, alone and now jobless, lying on the cold tiles of my bathroom, my head pounding like a marching band practicing for a parade. It was kind of poetic, really—getting fired and ending up in a world of pain over a stupid fall. One minute I was blissfully soaking in the warm water, contemplating whether to binge-watch another series on Netflix or finally start that book gathering dust on my nightstand; the next, I was auditioning for a role as a human bowling pin after my head somehow came in contact with the toilet seat as I was reaching for a towel. If only I could find my way to the pearly gates after such a spectacular tumble.

Ah…Heaven. Wouldn't that be something?

My parents were already there, and it sure would be nice to see them again. I still remembered the scent of my father's aftershave after he'd given me one of his bear hugs, and the feel of my mother's lips on my forehead kissing me goodnight. Not that Gran hadn't done a good job raising me after the crash that had taken my parents too soon. She'd certainly tried her best anyway. Maybe I was just too broken for this life.

I barely graduated from high school, dropped out of college my sophomore year, and had jumped from one job to the next ever since, never able to hold one down for long…and let's not talk about my track record of failed relationships. Maybe it would be best for everyone if I went to be with the angels like Mom and Dad after all.

Suddenly, the room around me began to shimmer. A warm light enveloped me, and I felt myself rising, as if my spirit was floating upward. Suddenly, I was standing in front of a set of majestic gold and pearl-encrusted gates.

"Welcome to Heaven!" I could hear a chorus of cherubim singing, their voices as sweet as sugar. It was like stepping into a Pinterest board for celestial beings—fluffy white clouds, rainbows, and sparkles everywhere. I felt a breeze waft through my long blonde hair. Was that a flying unicorn that soared past me just now? I stepped forward and put my hand on Heaven's gate; to my surprise, it swung open, just wide enough that I was able to squeeze myself through. Right as I was about to bask in the glory of eternal bliss, I caught a whiff of something delicious wafting through the air.

Was that...cake?

"Oh, sweet nectar of the gods," I whispered, my mouth watering. I turned my head, and there it was—a buffet table covered in all sorts of delectable treats. A devil's food cake sat proudly in the center, its rich chocolate icing glistening under the heavenly glow. My heart raced. Cake was my weakness…my Achilles' heel. Who could resist the siren call of chocolate?

Without a second thought, I strolled over, my heart pounding with excitement. Just as I was about to sink my fork into that luscious cake, I heard a voice behind me, clear and commanding.

"Stop right there!"

I froze, a forkful of delectable chocolate hovering inches from my lips. I turned slowly to face the source of the voice. A tall, blonde, and very buff angel stood there, wings gleaming and an expression that suggested he was not impressed.

"Gabriel?" I whispered, astonished.

"In the flesh," he said, crossing his arms. "Well, not really, but at least you recognized me. And you, my dear, have some serious explaining to do."

"Uh, explain?" I stammered, trying to look innocent while holding a fork full of divine decadence.

"That's the problem, Bethany." His voice was firm but not unkind. "You snuck in here, and now you think you can indulge in forbidden treats? Do you have any idea how serious this is? That's devil's food, not angel food, you know."

I frowned and slowly set my bite of dessert back on the cake platter, staring at it longingly. "Oops."

Gabriel's blue eyes narrowed, and he shook his head. "It wasn't just cake, I'm afraid. It was a test. Unfortunately, you failed it."

I felt a wave of shame wash over me. My mind raced back to all my life's poor choices—showing up late for work, the impulse buys, and yes, the countless times I'd eaten my feelings in various forms of sugar.

"Okay, fine! I get it!" I cried, throwing my hands up. "I'll do better, I promise!"

"Too late for promises," he said firmly. "You had your chance, and you squandered it. You're going back."

"Back where?" I gulped, dread creeping in.

"To Earth," he declared. "Try again." And, with a wave of his hand, the shimmering gates swung open. The warm light around me morphed into the cold, hard reality of my bathroom.

Suddenly, I was back on the floor, staring at the ceiling tiles once again. I groaned in frustration. "Great! Back to the grind and zero cake. Just my luck."

I climbed to my feet and glanced in the mirror, gingerly touching my fingertips to the giant black-and-blue shiner forming over my left eye socket.

"Ow," I said to no one, wincing. "Okay, Bethany," I continued, squaring my shoulders as I spoke to my reflection. "If what just happened wasn't some sort of drunken dream, you've got another shot to get yourself together."

After dressing in my comfiest pair of flannel pj's, I headed to the kitchen and grabbed a packet of frozen peas from my freezer since my icemaker was on the fritz. I pressed it tenderly to my forehead and gazed through the window. The world outside was filled with the colors of late afternoon fall in my small town of Sweetberry Hollow. Red and gold leaves swirled in the wind as they made their way from the tall tree branches to the sidewalks below. Pumpkins carved with silly faces lined the streets, and autumn wreathes hung on doors. It was beautiful, and I felt a flicker of hope. I could do this.

I had learned a few things in my short time as a mortal, primarily that I wasn't going to succeed at everything I attempted—okay, I hadn't succeeded at much of anything yet—but at least I was willing to try again. I poured myself a tall glass of water, and as I drank, I started to map out a plan for how I would regain my footing.

I could practically see the images of angelic approval dancing in my head. "Look at Bethany! She's finally making good choices!" I envisioned them cheering me on from the pearly gates. They were probably actually rolling their eyes, but I chose to assume they were cheering.

It was time to start searching for another job—something that didn't involve spreadsheets or Mr. Thompson's disapproving gaze. I needed a fresh start, and that meant embracing my strengths. If only partaking of carbs and sugar could be counted as a strength. I snapped my fingers. That was it! I should work at a candy shop! I'd surely be a natural in that environment, since I'd never met a dessert I didn't like.

I picked up my phone, searching for local shops. It didn't take long before I stumbled across Sugar Rush . Why hadn't I ever heard of it before now? Maybe it was a relatively new business in Sweetberry Hollow.

I hadn't been back in town that long since my disaster attempting life behind a desk in the big city and had only had one or two opportunities to visit the square downtown where my phone indicated the shop was located.

I clapped my hands together, imagining myself surrounded by sugary delights, wearing an apron and serving sweets to smiling customers. Sure, I had no formal experience in a candy shop, but how hard could it be? I vowed to pay a visit to Sugar Rush first thing in the morning to fill out an application. Tonight—food and rest were in order.

Carrying the phone with me to the living room, I settled myself onto the couch and clicked on the food delivery app. Pizza sounded like the only fitting remedy for this disaster of a day.

"Let's see...," I muttered, scrolling through my options.

A greasy pepperoni pizza topped with extra cheese seemed like a plan. After placing the order, I took a moment to breathe, savoring the thought of my future. With enough determination and chutzpah, I still had a chance to turn things around. I wondered how many good choices it would take to earn back my angel wings. It would help if Gabriel had been more specific.

The doorbell chimed, and I got up to retrieve my dinner from the pimply teenage delivery driver.

After setting the box on the kitchen counter, I pulled a couple of gooey slices onto a plate, returned to the couch, and flipped on the TV.

The Hallmark Channel greeted me with its typical charm and predictable plots. I sighed happily, wrapping myself in a blanket. Tonight, I would relish the simple pleasures of life: pizza, cozy pajamas, and the sweet predictability of cheesy romantic films.

And like Scarlet O'Hara famously said, "Tomorrow is a new day."

Who knew? Maybe I could still turn my life around after all.