CHILDREN OF ANGELS is a story of two people traveling separate paths to love. When their paths converge in troubling circumstances, the each must find the courage to set aside old fears and secrets and learn how to love in ways neither hasMoreCHILDREN OF ANGELS is a story of two people traveling separate paths to love. When their paths converge in troubling circumstances, the each must find the courage to set aside old fears and secrets and learn how to love in ways neither has experienced before.Investment banker ANDERS WHITFIELD has never known love but the dream he thinks impossible – a family of his own – begins to take shape when he meets SUSAN ALTAMONT, a feisty, impertinent journalist.
While undeniably attracted to Anders, Susan believes that, for her, love is impossible. Who could love a woman who needs an ugly leg brace to walk? When she resists Anders’ attempts to deepen their relationship, Anders seeks a way to heal the hurt he sees in her heart.Brought together to help save a children’s shelter from demolition by a ruthless politician, they learn about love from a nun with a past and an angel disguised as a small boy. But the danger they face from both the past and present is very real for them.***Excerpt***The Iceman was back.“Why do you come to me about this school?
St. Cecilia’s, is it?”“Mr. Whitfield, do you deny that you are involved with St. C’s?”“Why would I be involved with this school?”“I don’t know. That’s why I am asking. I believe you are involved with St. C’s. Do you deny it?”“Deny what?”“The other day I saw you driving in the vicinity of the school with what appeared to be a small child in the front seat. Remember? That was the day you almost took my door off.”“You weren’t paying attention.
You should never have opened the door without looking for traffic. The street was very narrow and the snow only made it worse. It would only make sense to look…”He was actually scolding her. Enough, Susan thought with mounting frustration. “I’m not here about the car door. I’m here because it seems that you, sir, are a fraud,” she exclaimed.Anders Whitfield stood, clasped his hands behind his back and strolled deliberately around the room, finally coming to a halt at the window wall farthest from her.
She wanted to get up and follow but discovered she would need assistance rising from the low sofa. So much for the advantage of surprise.He finally faced her. “Excuse me? Did I just hear you accuse me of fraud?”“No. I accused you of being a fraud.” Susan’s brows furrowed into a scowl and she was unsure when she had lost control of the conversation.“You show up here and accuse me of being a fraud.
What on earth are talking about, Miss Altamont? Whitfield Investments is above reproach.”“This is not about Whitfield Investments, Mr. Whitfield. It is about your involvement with St. Cecelia’s School.”“I thought we agreed that you were to call me Anders. I believe we discussed the evening of Daniel’s party.
You agreed then, so please call me Anders.”“Mr. Whitfield…” she tried to continue“Anders.”“All right, all right, Anders,” she all but stammered and momentarily lost her train of thought. “What exactly is your involvement with St. Cecelia’s School?”“I don’t understand. What exactly do you mean, Miss Altamont?”“Susan. Call me Susan.” It slipped out before she could stop it.