Excerpts From, Where Was God (Their Hearts Burned to be Together)

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Where Was God? Fayth Angelica Hope, questioned after the death of her father. Reared by a mother who could give, Cruella Deville, a run for her money as, “The Queen of Mean,” Fayth turns her back on the church, her faith, and love. She believed, no, just and merciful God would have abandoned her to the harsh brutality of her mother’s iron fist. Her emotional and spiritual scars run deep, lasting into adulthood.

As a promising investigative reporter, she decides to change her name. Her given name of Fayth has more curses attached to it than blessings. She hopes the switch to Angelica will give her the clean slate she desires. Assigned to investigate financial advisor Jasion McCoy, Angelica goes in determined to expose him for embezzlement. She hopes the story will advance her career as one of the top reporters across the country. Instantly, there is an attraction. But she hides her feelings from him. After a series of missteps, broken heartedness, and rejections in her past, she buries the notion of any man, especially a man of his caliber, ever loving her. With the evidence stacked against him, she believes his only interest in her, is to keep from going to prison. 

Top-notch financial advisor Jasion McCoy is in the middle of an embezzlement scheme. When Angelica Hope shows up in his office, he knows he’s in trouble. She is one of the hottest investigative reporters in Port City and now she’s gunning for him. How can Jasion convince her that he is innocent? And how can he hold back his feeling for the woman who’s out to do him in?

Sample Chapter

Angelica stepped inside the vacant elevator at Spitzer Financial Firm. She pressed the button for the twelfth floor where her new assignment awaited her. She leaned her tired body against the steel guardrails as the doors closed. Even the smooth, melodic sounds of jazz bellowing from overhead couldn’t drown out the voice of her high-strung, over-the-top boss, Lance Swann as it invaded her thoughts on the ride up.

The last thing she wanted was to take on a new assignment. But Lance barged into her office more than a week ago with what he deemed another big story that needed her undivided attention. She could hear his flamboyant voice ringing clearly in her head. “Hope, CBN News didn’t earn Best Broadcasting Station of the year by sitting on our butts.” Then he’d pour on the flattery with, “You’re the best reporter this station has. The others are just too darned soft. I can trust you to get down and dirty to find the truth.” He was right about that. She took her job seriously, sometimes a little too seriously, and often leaving enemies in the aftermath.

She was blindsided when her overzealous boss assigned her to investigate Jasion McCoy without consulting her first. She had planned to take an overdue vacation, which Lance knew she deserved, after uncovering the teacher’s sex scandal that rocked the Port City school system last month. She had her own problems to sort out. As usual, Lance had thrown a monkey wrench in those plans when he’d handed her a folder containing Mr. McCoy’s profile.

She pulled a photo from the folder of a strikingly handsome young man; she’d remembered seeing on an infomercial. After the Procter Investment Firm scandal, people had begun withdrawing their investments from local financial firms in Port City. He had encouraged the public that it was safe to reinvest in their future and not allow one company’s mistake to scare them.

Angelica studied the photo of Jasion McCoy with awareness. She brushed her hands across the glossy image toward his eyes and then down to the most perfect set of lips she’d ever seen. He didn’t look like a crook, but neither did the rest of those high corporate thieves who’d scammed billions from their clients. Well Mr. McCoy, I hope you’re ready for me. I don’t take kindly to those who take advantage of the innocent, no matter how handsome they are, she thought, trying to convince herself that his good looks wouldn’t interfere with her doing her job.

Ding. The elevator alerted that she’d reached her destination. The sound pulled her back to the present. While exiting, she tried, refocusing on her purpose for being there. She proceeded down a narrow hallway in search of the man whose photo had her counting down the seconds until their meeting. She arrived at his office door, where a gold plate bore his name in bold black letters. Before she could knock, a tall, handsome, and immaculately dressed man charged out the door, nearly knocking her over.

The gorgeous creature leaning into her, quick reflexes and a strong masculine hold around her waist broke her fall. The last thing she needed was a concussion from landing on the hard ceramic floor beneath her.

“Ma’am, are you all right? I’m sorry. I didn’t see you,” He apologized, holding her securely in his arms.

Seconds ticked before Angelica could speak. There was a sense of familiarity about the man holding her in his arms. She’d seen those soft, brown, caring eyes before, but where? The only placed she’d seen him was in the photo and on television.

“You need to watch where you’re going, sir,” she scolded, breaking out of his strong grip. Straightening her oversized, black blazer, she sported an annoyed look. “I could’ve been seriously hurt.”

She was more than okay. It wasn't everyday that a handsome, six-foot-three─ give or take an inch─hunk, stormed out an office and held her in his arms. Too bad, the hard nosed-reporter inside her, wouldn't allow her vulnerability or gratitude show.

“You’re right. I should’ve been more careful.” He peered over her shoulders in the direction of his secretary’s empty desk. “May I help you?”

“Yes. I am looking for a Mr. Jasion McCoy.” She knew exactly who he was. The sight of him had taken what breath she had left. She tried to gather her composure in light of the awkward moment they’d just shared. Focus. Focus. Focus. She screamed within herself.

His photo and television infomercials didn’t do him justice. Live and in living color was much better. His bronze, chiseled face and beautiful full lips surrounded by a neatly trimmed goatee were enough to make her want to fall again, just so he’d catch her. There wasn’t a flaw to be found, and if there were, he hid them well.

Dateless for more than two years hadn’t diminished her womanly abilities to scan a man from head to toe in a matter of seconds. Her skills were still on high alert. His tan designer suit complemented his toned body, drawing attention to all the right places.

“I’m your man. Sorry…my apologies, that didn’t come out the right way.” Stumbling on his words, he extended his hand to her for a formal introduction. “I’m Jasion McCoy. And you are?”

“Angelica Hope, from CBN News. The station’s secretary scheduled me to meet with you at ten-thirty this morning.”

“Come into my office and let me check my schedule for today.”

She followed closely behind, checking out the full view of his masculine physique. Not too bad. Not too bad. His wife is one lucky woman to have a man like him to come home to. I thought Idris Elba was the only man who oozed sex appeal, but I was wrong.

“Have a seat while I verify the time with my secretary. I hope she’s returned from her morning break.” He turned, gesturing towards a black leather chair near his desk. “Ms. Kennedy is good at keeping me on track.” He dialed her extension, placing the phone on loudspeaker. “Ms. Kennedy.”

“Yes, Mr. McCoy,” she responded in a high-spirited voice.

“Do you have me scheduled to meet with a, Mrs.─”

“It’s Ms.,” Angelica interrupted. Why did I do that? I could slap myself. I hope he doesn’t get the wrong impression.

“I’m sorry. Do you have me scheduled to meet with Ms. Angelica Hope from CBN News at ten-thirty this morning? I could’ve sworn it was for tomorrow.”

“Hold, please, while I check.” She returned, “Yes, Mr. McCoy, I reminded you of the appointment first thing this morning.

“Thanks, Ms. Kennedy. That will be all for now.” He disconnected the call. “I apologize for my oversight, Ms. Hope. It’s been chaos around here ever since investigators stormed into my office, confiscating my clients’ portfolios.”

“Your boss, Mr. Lexington, contacted the station and briefed us on the matter.”

“If you don’t mind, can we discuss this over a late breakfast?” he asked, slipping on his suit jacket. “I’m famished.”

“I have lunch plans in a couple of hours. We could reschedule for tomorrow, if you’d like.” She couldn’t believe those words had escaped her lips. Postponing a meeting of this nature wasn’t in her vocabulary. She had to be insane or weak to the magnetic powers transmitting from the handsome man standing before her.

“No, I prefer to get this over with as quickly as possible,” he snapped.

“I don’t know about quickly, Mr. McCoy. We’re stuck together like Siamese twins. After the case, we can both go our separate ways. Where I come from, stealing is a serious crime.” No one took that type of tone with her, even if he did look as if he’d stepped off the pages of GQ magazine.

“Whoa. Hold on, Ms. Don’t come in here making false accusations. I know Mr. Lexington prefers that CBN News cover the story because of their network’s reputation for accuracy. However, I won’t hesitate to boot you up out of here.” He shot back.

“Look. I apologize for making false assumptions. In my business you’re innocent until proven guilty.” Her reporter instincts warned that things were going to get worse before the case was over, and sticking her foot in her mouth wasn’t helping. “Okay, let’s go and discuss the events leading up to the disappearance of your clients’ assets. Maybe we can put our heads together and figure it out before the news get out to the public. After the Procter Investment Firm closed its doors due to money laundering schemes, the last thing you need is for Spitzer’s investors to begin panicking.”

****

The company’s cafeteria rush hour was over and now had dwindled to a handful of employees, allowing Jasion to speak free from prying eyes. Turning his attention to the beautiful, feisty reporter sitting across the table from him, he made a mental note to switch from watching BCB news to CBN news. She was stunning.

Feelings of déjà vu crept up his spine as he locked eyes with her across the table. Her creamy, mocha skin and hypnotizing, brown eyes were enough to paralyze any man who looked into them, but her attitude needed a major overhaul.

“Is there anything else you need to know, Ms. Hope?” he asked impatiently.

“For now,” she said emphatically. “I don’t want to overload you with questions today.”

Not that he’d mind. He could sit and gaze at her all morning. It was her tongue lashing that he could do without. “Good, because my brain is fried,” he laughed.

She kept a stony face.

If we’re going to be working closely together, I pray she loosens up, or communication will be like pulling teeth out of a lion’s mouth.

“We’ve only scratched the surface, Mr. McCoy. I will be working directly with Port City detectives.” She took a sip of her coffee. “If you cooperate with me, I’ll do all I can to help prove your innocence. But, if not, I’ll do everything in my power to see that you end up behind bars.”

“Ouch. That cut and dry, huh?” Jasion asked, steadying the cup of coffee in his shaky hand. The last place he wanted to end up was jail, especially for a crime he didn’t commit.

“Yes. So, do we have an understanding?”

“Yes, ma’am, we do.”

Jasion could tell by the tone of her voice that she meant business. He hoped as time passed that the five-foot-six beauty would ease up on the threats. His nerves were already working in overdrive, and her straight-to-the-point attitude weren’t helping matters.

The reputation he’d spent years building was crashing down around him. God had promised, through His word, to never leave him or forsake him. But he had never felt more forsaken than now and questioned how was he going to get out of this mess?

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