Tim the Reaper: A YA Urban Fantasy Grim Reaper Adventure

Everyone in town thinks associating with fifteen-year-old Tim Reeper is the kiss of death. Of course, his mother dying during his birth, his best friend being struck by lightning—twice—, and a string of bizarre deaths around him don’t help. No wonder the kids at school call him the Grim Reaper.

When newcomer, Skye, shows up in Tim’s English class, he tries to convince her he’s harmless. His life gets complicated when Tim’s dad reveals he is a real grim reaper and Tim must become a reaper too. But when Tim discovers Skye is also in training...as an Angel of Mercy, his life becomes downright impossible.

Tim must woo the girl of his dreams, convince her mother that angels and reapers can coexist without destroying the planet, and get out of his contract with his godfather, his father’s boss — all while enduring the evil of all evils: high school. He must succeed. Tim’s existence, his family’s souls, and his one-and-only chance at being kissed are on the line if he fails.

Tim the Reaper is Elisa S. Amore’s Touched Saga meets the humor of Terry Pratchett’s Mort with a hint of Neil Shusterman’s Scythe.

If one more person accuses me of murder, I’m going to freak out!

I close my eyes, lay my head on the cool surface of the desk, and listen to the pre-bell murmur of my English class. Why can’t I be anywhere but here?

“Did you hear about Shelly?” someone behind me whispers. “She was with her mom Saturday night and a group of quail ran in front of their car. They swerved to avoid the birds, ran off the road, down a gulley, flipped four times, and landed in a swamp.”

Someone else gasps. “Are they all right?”

“I guess the police found them two hours later with water up to their chins and covered in leeches. They’re in the hospital recovering.”

There’s a long pause.

Five buck says if I stood and turned around, all twenty-five kids in the class would be looking at me.

“I bet it was Reaper,” one of them whispers.

I roll my eyes. I knew it was coming. It always does. Not that it matters. Most other kids avoid me anyway, which is better than being beat up. I guess. I’m pretty scrawny for a sixteen-year-old, but Dad insists I’m a late bloomer. Just two more years of high school, then I’ll leave this town and go some place where people don’t know about me or my history.

First, it was the Mom dying while giving birth to me. Then an eagle dropped a turtle on my scoutmaster's head, killing him. But when my best friend, Danny, got hit by lightning for the second time, I couldn’t play with him or anyone else anymore. Everyone blamed their bad luck—and weird near-death experiences—on me.

Because of course, I’m out to get them all.

Mrs. Chase clears her throat in front of me. As in, right in front. I’m front-row, center seat. All the other chairs are taken, except those closest to me. “Eyes up front!” Her hand touches my head. “You too, Tim.”

I look up. The most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen stands next to Mrs. Chase.

She’s almost as tall as my teacher, who is 6’3”, and used to play college basketball.

The girl is blushing. She looks around the room as she smooths the front of her Metallica T-shirt. She smells like flowers. As she links her long, slender fingers together, the girl glances at me and smiles. It’s kinda quirky—a half-smile with a dimple. She tucks a lock of blonde hair behind her ear, making the curl of her hair more pronounced. Wow. Those are blue eyes. She looks away, then back down to me, one side of her mouth tipping upward again.

“Are you okay with that, Tim?” Mrs. Chase asks.

I gaze at my teacher and blink. Did I miss something? She must’ve made a comment while I was checking out the new girl. My cheeks warm. “Can you repeat the question?”

Someone behind me snickers. I glare over my shoulder at Mike. His face pales and he slumps in his seat.

“Will you give Skye a tour of the school?” Mrs. Chase asks.

I glance up at Skye. The fluorescent lights create a halo around her head. “Uh, yeah.”

“Don’t send her with Grim,” Ruby says. “She’ll be dead before lunch.”

Skye arches an eyebrow and stares at Ruby.

Mrs. Chase presses her lips together. “Cut it out, Ruby.”

Really? The new girl has only been here three seconds before someone tells her to steer clear of me.

“She’ll be just fine.” Mrs. Chase gestures to the empty desk next to mine. “Have a seat.”

Skye nods, dropping her backpack on the floor, then slides into the empty chair on my right. She stretches her long legs, crossing them at the ankle. I swear those legs go up to her neck.

Ten minutes before class ends, Mrs. Chase hands me an excuse note for second period. “Why don’t you take Skye on that tour now? This will keep you from getting into trouble if you’re late to class.”

I take the note and stuff my books into my backpack, dropping my pencil three times before Skye picks it up and holds it out to me. I glance at her. She flashes that half-smile again. It reminds me of Mona Lisa. Except prettier.

Our fingers touch when I take the pencil. I swear I feel a zing and angels sing from heaven. Or it could have been static shock.

It doesn’t matter, anyway. Skye’s not looking at me. She’s waving at Mike. Of course, she is. All the girls like Mike. It’s like he hit puberty when he was six, or something. I jerk my head toward the exit. “C’mon.” At least we’ll have ten minutes to ourselves before the rest of the classes are out.

Skye grabs her backpack and follows me.

Still irked Ruby snarked about me to the teacher, I make a beeline toward her as I head toward the back of the room where the door is.

Ruby's green eyes widen, and she leans back in her seat until she can’t go any further. Her lips form a trembling O, and I make sure to brush my leg against hers as I pass.

Someone gasps and the room quiets. I open the door leading to the hallway, and hold it open for Skye, who glances over her shoulder. Her brows furrow and she tilts her head. She stares at Ruby sitting ramrod straight in her chair, a few girls surrounding her with worried looks on their faces.

“What was that all about?” Skye asks.

“What?”

“That. In the classroom.” She motions toward the door.

“Oh.” I shrug, shifting my backpack higher onto my shoulder. I meander down the empty hallway filled with posters for upcoming football and volleyball games plastered along the walls, and reflecting off the newly waxed linoleum. “I have a license to kill.”

“What?”

She grabs my shoulder and whirls me around.

I blink several times. First, because nobody besides my dad has dared to touch me, in... I don’t know... ever. And second, because this girl is strong. I rub my shoulder, gazing up at her.

“I have a license to kill,” I say again, trying to act nonchalant as I pull my wallet from my back pocket. I show her my Washington State hunting license.

“See? I can kill deer and elk this year.”

“Hunting license? I thought--” Skye laughs, a blush running up her long neck into her cheeks, until she looks like she’s been in the sun too long. It’s—magnificent.

She rests her elbow on my shoulder and wipes at her eyes. “That was good.”

I gaze up at her, trying not to break into a goofy grin. She’s touching me. Again. Of course, she’s also a good foot taller than me. Oh, man. She must think I’m some sort of cute, cuddly kitten.

Not good. At. All.

We walk to the high school’s lobby where a set of glass double doors opens to the parking lot. The lobby is the hub with hallways branching out in all directions like spokes, each one marked with a sign. A wide staircase leads to the office and a second level of classes.

“Let me see your schedule,” I say, holding out my hand.

She bites her lip and digs through her backpack. Satisfaction blooms over her face, and she shoves her schedule at me.

I glance at her page, silently cheering. We have another class together. “These will be your friends for the first couple days.” I gesture to the signs above the halls. “Left—that’s the science wing where you have second period.” I point the other direction. “Third period will be on the exact opposite end of the school for music.”

Skye makes a face. “How much time do I have between classes?”

“Five minutes. If you hurry, you should be able to make it.”

“And if I get stuck behind a mob of Freshmen?”

“You’re screwed.”

“I’ll bring a bullhorn.”

“If you have one with sirens and flashing lights, that’ll be better.”

She grins.

“The rest of your classes are pretty close to each other,” I say, nodding at the paper and pointing to several rooms located in the same hall. “But you have P.E. after lunch, which sucks because you’ll be doing everything on a full stomach.”

I stifle a groan. We have gym together, which is not my best subject, considering I’m one of the smallest guys in school and nobody likes me. A sense of foreboding forms in my stomach, and I try to ignore it. I nudge her with my elbow and force a smile. “See? No worries.”

Her adorable half-smile reappears. She opens her mouth as if to say something, but the bell rings and the halls flood with kids.

Skye gets sucked into the wave of bodies, her head towering over the others. I stand in the middle of the hallway with people surging around me like I’m surrounded by a force field, watching my angel in Metallica drift further away from me.

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