“Good morning!” my partner, Derrel, said in an insanely cheerful voice. “I need my Angel to come out and play.”

“Personally, I wish D. would come after me, I need a good dance partner. My Daimons have lame legs. (Acheron)”

“In the evening, I would tell my patients, sleep with the angels. In the morning, I would say to each as the French farmers still do, "Good morning to your and your companion" - meaning, of course, their angel.”

“At Christmas play and make good cheer, For Christmas comes but once a year.”

“I moved closer as I dragged myself through the frozen bracken. “Who’s coming?” My voice trembled like an autumn leaf in the wind.“Your Angels,” he replied breathily right before he crumpled to the ground in a great heap.My body went into sensory overload. I was hurt, angry, broken, sad, terrified, and . . . hopeful. He said my Angels were coming.”

“You are my Guardian Angel, Maddy,” a voice said, but it was far away from her.”