Chuck Boswell is in trouble. A fall down a steep hillside has left him helpless and alone, his leg broken, on a chill October night. In response to his frustrated cry of, “A miracle might be a nice idea about now, because my guardian angel seems to be asleep on the job,” the last thing he expects to hear in response is, “Well if you weren’t such a moron you wouldn’t need a guardian angel.”
But Chuck’s problems really begin in the morning, when he wakes to find an angel sleeping next to him, dressed in a lot less than one would assume angels wear to bed.
