Touched by Angels

Touched by Angels

by Debbie Macomber
Touched by Angels

Touched by Angels

by Debbie Macomber

Paperback(Mass Market Paperback - Reissue)

$7.99 
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Overview

“Debbie Macomber writes characters that are as warm and funny as your best friends.”
—Susan Wiggs

“Debbie Macomber’s name on a book is a guarantee of warm-hearted, endearing romance that will captivate and charm her legions of readers.”
—Jayne Ann Krentz

#1 New York Times bestselling author Debbie Macomber—winner of numerous accolades and honors, including the Romance Writers of America’s Nora Roberts Lifetime Achievement Award—writes romance novels that warm the heart and lift the spirit like none other. In Touched by Angels, the beloved author of Mrs. Miracle showcases three of her most popular characters: the well-meaning if somewhat dizzy heavenly helpers, Shirley, Goodness, and Mercy. Macomber’s delightful angelic trio alights in New York City in Touched by Angels, and before they re-enter the Pearly Gates, they need to answer the prayers of a troubled school teacher, a shy and lonely young woman, and a wannabe Broadway actress a long way from home.


Product Details

ISBN-13: 9780061083440
Publisher: HarperCollins
Publication date: 10/25/2011
Series: Angel Series , #3
Edition description: Reissue
Pages: 400
Sales rank: 180,902
Product dimensions: 4.19(w) x 6.75(h) x 1.00(d)

About the Author

About The Author
Debbie Macomber is a #1 New York Times bestselling author and one of today’s most popular writers, with more than 200 million copies of her books in print worldwide. In her novels, Macomber brings to life compelling relationships that embrace family and enduring friendships, uplifting her readers with stories of connection and hope. Macomber’s novels have spent over one thousand weeks on the New York Times bestseller list. Seventeen of these novels hit the number one spot. A devoted grandmother, Debbie and her husband, Wayne, live in Port Orchard, Washington, the town that inspired the Cedar Cove series.

Hometown:

Port Orchard, Washington

Date of Birth:

October 22, 1948

Place of Birth:

Yakima, Washington

Education:

Graduated from high school in 1966; attended community college

Read an Excerpt

Chapter One

The young man wore a staple in one ear. Brynn Cassidy tried not to stare as he paraded past her and slouched down in the desk in the farthest corner of the classroom. His nose was decorated with a safety pin. The fact that his hair was cut in a Mohawk style and dyed orange shouldn't faze her. She'd been told what to expect.

Manhattan High School wasn't St. Mary Academy, the parochial girls' high school where she'd taught for the last two years. But teaching here was an opportunity she couldn't let pass her by. She'd accepted this position to test her theories and gain experience in dealing with students from a disadvantaged neighborhood.

Next, a young lady entered the room in a miniskirt, blouse and no bra. Her hair, pitch-black and stringy, covered her far better than her choice of outfits. She glanced around, shrugged, and claimed the seat closest to the door as if it were important to make a fast getaway.

The room filled quickly. The school building itself was said to be dilapidated and run-down, but that didn't trouble Brynn. St. Mary Academy was a turn-of-the-century structure with high ceilings and lovely polished wood floors that smelled of lemon oil.

When Brynn learned Manhattan High in the Washington Heights area had been constructed in the early 1950s, she'd expected it to be an improvement, but she was wrong. Like so many other schools, Manhattan High had been forced to make some difficult budget choices. Thanks to three failed school bond levies, modernizing the classrooms was on the low end of the priority list.

"Will everyone kindly take a seat," Brynn instructed nervously. She stood in front of the classand was ignored, which wasn't surprising since the bell had yet to ring.

Looking for something constructive to do, she walked over to the badly chipped blackboard and wrote out her name.

The bell rang, and several of the kids stopped talking long enough to indicate their irritation at being interrupted. The level of conversation increased once the bell finished.

Brynn returned to the front center of the room and waited. She'd learned early in her teaching career never to outshout her students. It only made her look foolish, and it didn't work. After five full minutes of being ignored, she went to the wall and flipped the light switch a couple of times. This technique had worked elsewhere but had only a mild effect upon the class. The level of talking decreased momentarily while several glanced her way, then quickly continued their ongoing conversations.

Brynn decided she had no option but to wait them out. It demanded the longest fifteen minutes of her life to stand in front of that classroom until thirty people voluntarily gave her their attention.

It might have taken longer if the boy, Hispanic from the look of him, hadn't raised his right hand and snapped his fingers. Ten or so other Hispanics stopped talking and turned around on their seats. An African American followed suit, and several of the others clustered together went silent.

The class had divided itself along ethnic lines, Brynn noted. The Hispanics sat in the front, the African Americans chose the back.

Once silence reigned, Brynn stepped forward. "Good morning," she said with her brightest smile. "My name's Miss Cassidy-

'Why ain't you married?"

"Because I'm not," she answered simply, preferring not to get trapped in a conversation about herself "I'm your teacher, and —""You're new, ain't you?"

"Yes," Brynn answered politely. "As you already know, we're involved in an experimental program called Interdisciplinary Learning."

"That doesn't sound like something a nice girl like you should be teaching," one of the boys called out.

Despite herself, Brynn smiled. "We'll be spending three hours together each afternoon, exploring senior English, world history, and social science. You'll notice how the classes are grouped along parallel lines."

"is she speaking English?" one girl whispered loudly, leaning toward another.

Brynn decided it would be best to explain the concept in simpler terms. "The classes we'll be studying are connected by subject. We'll read The Diary of Anne Frank for the English portion, the history section will involve the study of World War Two, and in the last part of the session I'd like to discuss the justification for war and other value clarification."

"All three hours will be spent with you?"

"That's right," Brynn said. "You'll know me better than any other teacher, and by the same token, I'll know you. I'd like it if we could work together as a team."

"If we're going to be spending this much time with one teacher, then it only seems right that you tell us something about yourself first," the Hispanic boy who'd quieted the class said. Since she owed him a favor, she agreed.

"What do you want to know?"

"How long you been teaching?"

"This is my third year,"

"If she lasts the first week," someone suggested under their breath.

"I'll last," Brynn assured them. "I'm too young to retire and too stubborn to quit."

"Where'd you come from?"

"Rhode Island."

"Why'd you decide to teach here?"

"She's a fool, that's why," someone answered for her.

"That's not true," Brynn countered. "As I explained earlier, we're involved in an experimental program that's being sponsored by the federal government. I was asked to participate."

"Why'd you do it?"

The questions were making her decidedly uncomfortable. "Part of the agreement would be that a portion of my student loan would be forgiven."

"Forgiven?"

"That's the word the government used."

"Where'd you teach before?" a Chinese girl asked, her gaze shyly meeting Brynn's.

"St. Mary Academy. It's a private school for girls near Rochester."

" La de da," one of the boys said in a high-pitched voice...

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