EXCERPT

. I stepped out of the van, hopped to the water’s edge, and dipped my fingers into the shallows. I pulled my hand back quickly.
“You’ll appreciate it when the sun’s overhead,” said a beautiful voice from behind.
Somewhere, in the dusty attic corners of my mind, I knew that rich, purple, melt-my-heart voice.
“I was hoping to stay dry,” I replied, placing my fingertips on the muddy bank to steady myself. I looked back. A young, dark-haired man was pulling the raft toward the river.
“Well it’s my job to make sure you have fun, so I wouldn’t count on that,” he said. “I’m Tomas Aguillermo, your river guide.” He extended a smooth brown hand. A wave of dejavu swept through me, and as I grasped his hand, I thought the white morning sun rose behind him. Upon standing, I realized it was his halo.
His light was glorious. I was certain I had never seen a more beautiful soul. His aura was both rich and pure, a near-perfect ultra-violet. And his eyes were the same unique color, only deeper, like rare sapphires. If it weren’t for the fishy smell, I’d swear I died and went to heaven.