Stacey Wallace Benefiel writes paranormal love stories with a time-bending twist.

For more info. on Stacey and her books, please check out her website:

Glimpse by Stacey Wallace Benefiel

Zellie Wells has a devastating crush on Avery Adams, the son of her mom's high school sweetheart. At her sixteenth birthday party, held in the basement of her dad's church, she finally finds the courage to talk to him. Turns out, the devastating crush is mutual.

As Avery takes her hand and leads her out onto the makeshift dance floor, Zellie is overwhelmed by her first vision of his death; shocking because not only are they both covered in his blood, but they're old, like thirty-five, and she is pregnant.

Afraid to tell anyone about the vision, (she'd just be labeled a freaky black magic witch, right?) Zellie keeps the knowledge of Avery's future to herself and tries to act like any other teenager in love. When they get caught on their way to a secret rendezvous by her mom and his dad, they are forbidden to see each other.

Convinced that their parents are freaking out unnecessarily, Avery and Zellie vow to be together no matter what. They continue their relationship in secret until Zellie learns that their parents are just trying to prevent her and Avery from suffering like they did. The visions are hereditary, they're dangerous, and if they stay together the visions will come true.

Now Zellie must choose between severing all ties with Avery, like her mom did to prevent his father's death, and finding a way to change Avery's future.



  • "I love, love, love this story! My eyes were burning, and still are, but I had to keep on reading, I needed to know what would happen next. The suspense is amazing!"

    – Amazon Review
  • "Congratulations to Stacey Wallace Benefiel for composing such a skillfully written young adult novel. Glimpse is both creative and fresh. Although its subject matter leans definitely towards the paranormal, there is not a single vampire in sight, nor a skerrick of teen angst. Primarily, it is a story about first love, friendship and family, and these themes are explored with empathy and humour."

    – Amazon Review
  • The thing that struck me the most about her book was the voice - it was perfect. Zellie always sounded like a teenager without being whiny or obnoxious. She was very likable and very realistic.

    The paranormal aspect (which I loved) was a bit different than what I'd encountered before. I'm not going to give it away, but it wasn't what I'd expected it to be, and that's always fun.

    All in all, I'm excited to read the next books in her series, and I see tremendous promise in Stacey's writing and her future endeavors. Any fan of YA paranormal romance should definitely read this book!

    – Amazon Review



I stared at the back of Avery Adams head, imagining what it would feel like to press my face into his wavy brown hair. I longed to experience the exhilaration of running my fingertips over his broad shoulders and down his chest, of standing that close to him, feeling the heat coming off of his golden skin.

He was two people ahead of me in the line to take communion. I tried to focus on the smell of his shampoo. Unfortunately, the two people between us were my mom, and his dad. With them blocking the way, all I could smell was tea rose perfume and extra strength drain cleaner. Not a pleasant combination.

The line moved forward. The woman behind me, Mrs. Hobby, stepped on the back of my heel, scraping it with the pointy toe of her white patent leather flat.

"Ouch!" I said, way too loudly. The congregants of my white bread Lutheran church were not prone to exclamation of any kind. I flushed my usual shade of flame as everyone looked at me, including Avery. Mortified, I wheeled around, facing Mrs. Hobby, accidentally knocking off her massive white Easter hat. I caught it mid-air and jammed it back on her head. "Sorry! I was spacing out," I whispered, like the whole church couldn't hear what I was saying.

"Zellie!" Mom hissed at me from the front of the church.

"Uh, here we go, our turn at bat." I ran up to the altar and knelt down, bowing my head, touching my chin to my chest.

Someone in the back of the church snorted a laugh. It sounded like Claire. A giggle shimmied up my throat. Claire was my best friend and a frequent witness to my extreme dorkiness. She could also make me get the giggles at the most inappropriate moments.

I raised my head and took the communion wafer that my dad, Pastor Paul, offered, clamping my mouth shut before the giggles could escape and embarrass me even further. I glanced down the altar, wishing that the elder would hurry up with my tiny plastic cup of wine. I always seemed to get the communion wafer stuck to the roof of my mouth and then had to engage in some major tonguing in order to get it loose.

Avery leaned forward, taking his wafer from my dad. He swallowed it in one smooth gulp and then gave me a confused grin.

Oh, God, he must think I'm looking at him! I immediately stopped trying to pry the wafer loose with my tongue and put my chin to my chest again. What could I have looked like? I tried to float above myself, picture my face. What I conjured was not a flattering image. I had one eye closed, nostrils flaring, my tongue flicking back and forth. What the hell was my problem? I looked like a cat coughing up a fur ball. Ugh.

When everyone was served communion, I got up, avoiding my dad's bemused look and went back to the second pew where me, my mom and my sister Melody always sit.

Melody shook her head and flicked me on the back of my arm as I stepped past her and sat down in the pew. "Way to make a butt of yourself, Zel," she whispered into my ear.

"Whatever, hose beast." I flicked her on the knee and scooted away from her, closer to Mom.

She rolled her eyes at me. "Like I even know what that means."

Dad stepped up to the pulpit and shuffled his notes around in his hands. He was old school, writing his sermons in longhand on yellow legal pad paper. Assistant Pastor Morris wrote his on a computer and then downloaded it onto his BlackBerry, like someone from this century.

The sermon was my favorite part of the church service, not because my dad was such a charismatic speaker or anything, but because I could get in some good Avery daydreaming time. And, since he didn't know I was alive, daydream time was the only quality time I got to spend with him.

I leaned forward and put my forehead against the pew in front of me, rubbing my temples as though I had a headache. Turning my head the smallest increment to the side, I looked past my mom across the aisle to where Avery sat.

He was so beautiful it kinda hurt my heart to look at him. Ah well, I was in church after all, let the self-flagellation commence!

I began at his feet. Polished black dress shoes, black socks slouching at the ankles, a glimpse of beautiful calf, his khaki pants hiked up just a little.

Moving up, I lingered on his hand resting atop his knee, his long, thin fingers spread out. I took a deep breath and envisioned reaching out my hand and intertwining my fingers with his. Running my thumb across the top of his hand from wrist to knuckle, brushing my fingertips up his forearm.

In my imagination I was sitting next to him, pressing the side of my thigh against his, then elbow to elbow, shoulder to shoulder. My lips grazed the bend of his neck, the line of his jaw, the corner of his mouth, across his lips. Then we were forehead to forehead, my hands in his hair, I inhaled him in—

"Ow!" I sat up straight, smarting from the sharp elbow to the ribs Melody had given me.

"It's time to sing!" She yanked me up and thrust an open hymnal into my hands.

On pastor's daughter autopilot, I sang, "Christ our Lord is risen today, haaaaaa-le-loo-oo-yah!"