Jeremiah Lucky and the Guardian Angel

Eight-year-old Jeremiah tries hard. That's good. But he worries too much. Not so good. Jeremiah misses his dead father and pushes himself to be grown-up to help his mom. With so many things to remember, Jeremiah's forgetfulness grows. What will happen when Jeremiah teams up with his guardian angel?

Wonderfully illustrated by artist Eric Hammond, Jeremiah Lucky and the Guardian Angel is a chapter books intended for ages seven through ten. Available in December 2014, this story can be purchased directly from Guardian Angel Publishing and through major book retailers such as Amazon and Barnes and Noble.   http://www.guardianangelpublishing.com

The following is an excerpt from chapter one when Jeremiah first meets his guardian angel:

   Jeremiah turned and looked toward the back of the room. The figure appeared shadowy at first and small, but then brightened and became clear. Jeremiah stared and rubbed his eyes.
   "Check your book bag," the voice said again. He pointed toward Jeremiah's book bag hanging near his jacket.
   Jeremiah stood up and went over to the bag and coat rack. He unzipped his bag and discovered his two library books. Inside the racing book, Jeremiah found his permission slip and the envelope with the three dollars.
   "I didn't put these here," he said. "I forgot."
   The man who sat on Johnny's desk chuckled. He was no bigger than a kid, but he looked like a tiny man. The tiny man had a shiny bald spot on his head and a reddish mustache. He held a rounded, purple hat in his hands.
   "Who are you?" Jeremiah asked. "How did you know they were there?"
   "Your mother put them in last night. She was afraid you'd forget."
   "But how did you know that? Who are you?"
   "My name is Angus. Angus McDermit. I guess you could say I've been assigned to give you some extra help. It happens now and then, you know." The man laughed again and crossed his ankles, bouncing his legs up and down. "The councel has noticed that you're worrying a lot. That's not good, not for eight years old. And you try hard. That is good. So, they ordered a little help and I'm it--your guardian angel."
   "Guardian angel! You're kidding. You're a man. Angels are white with golden hair and--wings!" Jeremiah nearly shouted the last word.
   "Well, you got me on that one." Angus took a little leap off the desk and twirled around. "No wings. Never-the-less, you'll see." Jeremiah's mouth dropped open. The little man had disappeared.