Linda Poitevin was born and raised in B.C., Canada’s westernmost province. Growing up in an era when writing was “a nice hobby, dear, but what are you going to do for a living?”, Linda worked at a variety of secretarial jobs before applying to be a member of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police (RCMP). Due to an error in measurement, however, she was turned down when she didn’t meet the height requirement of that time. Undeterred, Linda became a civilian member in the force and was a dispatcher for two and a half years, during which time she met her husband, a police officer.
Following their transfer to Ottawa, Linda went on to become a real estate agent and then a human resources consultant before starting a family. She has been a stay-at-home mom ever since and has homeschooled her youngest daughter for the last nine years. Now that she has realized writing can be more than a nice hobby, she continues to live her dream of being a cop vicariously through her characters.
Linda currently lives near Ottawa with her husband, three daughters, one very large husky/shepherd/Great Dane-cross dog, two cats, three rabbits, and a bearded dragon lizard. When she isn’t writing, she can usually be found in her garden or walking her dog along the river or through the woods.
Linda is a member of Science Fiction & Fantasy Writers of America, Quebec Writers' Federation, Romance Writers of America, RWA Futuristic Fantasy Paranormal Chapter, and Ottawa Romance Writers' Association.
1)
What genres are your favorites to read?
I read across many genres, finding myself more attracted by a particular storyline than by any one genre per se. Because I have young adult daughters, I read a lot of what they bring home, so a lot of YA. I love dystopian stories in particular. I read in my own genre, Urban Fantasy, as well as in Suspense, Thriller, and Police Procedural, all rounded out with a fair bit of non-fiction.
How about to write in?
I’m currently writing in the Urban Fantasy genre and don’t have any immediate plans to depart from that. Down the road, I would like to try writing a YA, I think.
2)
Who is one of your favorite characters that you have written?
Please tell us about him/her and what book they are in. My all-time favorite is the Archangel Michael, introduced in the second book of The Grigori Legacy series,
Sins of the Son, and featuring prominently in the following two books still to be written. He is incredibly strong, but impossibly tormented, and has so many facets and layers to him…I alternate between admiring him and desperately wanting to give the poor guy a hug, because he just can’t seem to catch any breaks.
3)
For those who have not read your work yet, what book would you recommend starting with?
While I’m doing my best to write each book as a standalone, I would recommend readers begin at the beginning, with
Sins of the Angels.
4)
Where can readers find and connect with you on the web?
website ~
Twitter ~
Facebook
5)
What is one thing that you could not live without?
Coffee. Definitely coffee. It’s what wakes me up, keeps me human, and lets me string words together in a far more coherent fashion than I would otherwise accomplish!
Book Spotlight
Sins of the Angels
A detective with a secret lineage. An undercover Hunter with a bullet-proof soul. And a world made to pay for the sins of an angel...
Homicide detective Alexandra Jarvis answers to no one. Especially not to the new partner assigned to her in the middle of a gruesome serial killer case-a partner who is obstructive, irritatingly magnetic, and arrogant as hell. Aramael is a Power--a hunter of the Fallen Angels. A millennium ago, he sentenced his own brother to eternal exile for crimes against humanity. Now his brother is back and wreaking murderous havoc in the mortal realm. To find him, Aramael must play second to a human police officer who wants nothing to do with him and whose very bloodline threatens both his mission and his soul.
Now, faced with a fallen angel hell-bent on triggering the apocalypse, Alex and Aramael have no choice but to join forces, because only together can they stop the end of days.
Excerpt:
It was done.
There could be no turning back.
Caim stared down at the destruction he’d wrought and held back a shudder. They would come after him, of course, as they had the first time. They couldn’t allow him to succeed. Couldn’t risk him finding a way back and opening a door to the others. They would send someone to hunt him, try to imprison him in that place again.
His breath snared in his chest and for a moment the awfulness of the idea made him quail inside, made his mind go blank. An eternity of that awful, mind-hollowing emptiness, that nothingness. His belly clenched at the thought. It was a miracle he had escaped, and whatever happened, he couldn’t go back. Could never go back.
He focused his thoughts, made himself calm. He could do this. He could find the right one and return to where he belonged; it was just a matter of time. A matter of numbers.
Caim gazed at the corpse by his feet. It was also a matter of being more careful than this. He crouched and touched a withered fingertip to the crimson that welled from the gash in the mortal’s chest. He rubbed the viscous fluid between thumb and forefinger and studied his work, displeased at the lack of control he saw there. The haste.
He scowled at the frisson of remembered, wanton pleasure that even now edged down his spine, making his heart miss a beat. He so disliked that side of himself, the part that thrilled at the destruction. He had never wanted this, had tried so hard not to give in to what she had claimed to see. He wished he’d had another choice; that she’d given him another choice.
But whether he was here by choice or not, he would do well to maintain better control. If one of her hunters had been near just now, his search would have been over before it began. He’d been so caught up in his task, he wouldn’t have felt an approach until it was too late.
No, to stay ahead of her, ahead of the hunter she sent for him, Caim needed to rein himself in, to contain the bloodlust that clouded his mind. To be disciplined. He lifted his head and breathed in the alley musk, scented with rain and death. He needed to be faster, too. Finding one of the few he could use among the billions that existed now — the task seemed nothing short of monumental.
He wiped his bloody, clawed fingers on the corpse’s clothing, and then, on impulse, reached over and spread the corpse’s arms straight out, perpendicular to the body, and crossed the ankles over one another.
Pushing to his feet, he surveyed his handiwork with bitter satisfaction. Perfect. Even if she never saw it herself, she would know of his contempt, know what he thought of the esteem in which her children still held her.
He drew a breath deep into his lungs and stretched his arms over his head, letting his body begin to fill out again, taking on flesh and warmth. He reveled in the fierce pleasure of his own aliveness; the pull of wet cotton against his skin; the remains of the fierce summer rain dripping from his hair; the thick, sullen night air, unrelieved by the storm that had proclaimed his return. The sheer gratification of feeling.
Then, casting a last, dispassionate glance at the remains on the pavement, he turned and started down the alley toward the street. His mind moved beyond the kill to other matters. Matters such as finding a place to stay. Somewhere to hide, where a hunter wouldn’t think to look for him.
Caim emerged from the alley onto the sidewalk and looked up the deserted pavement to his left, then his right. Somewhere —
He paused. Stared across the street. Smiled.
Somewhere...interesting.
Sins of the Son (Releases March 27th, 2012)
A detective with a secret…
When homicide detective Alexandra Jarvis sees a photo of Seth Benjamin on a police bulletin, she knows that Heaven’s plan to halt Armageddon has gone terribly wrong. As the only mortal aware of Seth’s true nature, only she can save him.
An exiled angel turned assassin…
Aramael was a hunter of Fallen Angels until a traitor forced him into earthly exile. Now, with no powers and only a faint memory of Alex, his mortal soulmate, he will stop at nothing to redeem himself—even if it means destroying Seth in the name of the Creator.
A world with little chance of redemption…
As Alex’s need to protect Seth sets her on a fiery course with the determined Aramael, the coming conflict between them may push the world over the edge—and into the very chaos they’re trying to prevent.
Excerpt:
Five thousand years ago
“Do we have an agreement?” the One asked.
“You’re serious.” Lucifer turned from the window, a scowl etched between his brows, eyes clouded with suspicion. “You would do this to your own son, burden him with this destiny.”
“We would do this to our son,” the One corrected, “because we have run out of other options. We both know the pact between us won’t last forever. There are too many variables. And if we go to war again, it will never end. Think of it, Lucifer: you wish the annihilation of the mortals, I wish their survival. When the peace now between us comes to an end, let our son decide which of our wishes will be granted. Seth is equal parts each of us. Who better to decide who is right about the mortal race?”
“How do I know I can trust you? How do I know you’ll abide by the agreement if he chooses against you?”
“Because I am the One,” she said simply. She met her former helpmeet’s gaze with an unflinching one of her own. His mouth drew almost imperceptibly tighter. She felt her heartbeat catch. For a moment, she wondered if he might have guessed at her secret. Then, deep within him, she sensed his desire to accept her words, his longing to believe her. She offered him a small smile.
Lucifer’s gaze flicked to the wall and then returned to her. He rocked back on his heels, hands tucked into his pockets.
“You’ve always said my mortal children are worthless,” she pressed. “That there was no point to their existence. If you truly believe that, if you’re certain you’re right, then this is your chance to redeem your views. Our son, reborn into the mortal world to live as one of them, raised by them, growing to adulthood—and then, by his own choices, deciding their fate. If he chooses to live a life of good, to live up to his potential by mortal standards, then you acknowledge the inherent worth of all humans and withdraw fully from their realm. If he chooses otherwise, then I accept defeat. And if either of us does anything to interfere with him once the contract is signed, we forfeit. Do we have an agreement?”
“Forfeit how?”
“We accept defeat according to the terms.”
Nostrils flaring and jaw tight, Lucifer stared at her, hovering on the edge of decision. “And us?” he asked at last. “What of us?”
The One hesitated. She had anticipated this question and agonized over it for days before coming up with a response that would satisfy Lucifer without being a lie. Vague as the words were, however, they still proved difficult to utter. She straightened, finding resolve in the certainty that she did what was right. That it was the only way.
Without meeting his eyes, she recited the words she had rehearsed. “One way or the other, my mortal children will no longer stand in our way.”
“That’s not much of an answer.”
“It is the best I can give. A great deal of betrayal has passed between us.”
“Betrayal on both sides.” Bitterness edged Lucifer’s words.
The One inclined her head, acknowledging his perspective without commenting on its truth—or lack thereof.
Lucifer’s jaw hardened. “What is to stop me from breaking the pact now and triggering this agreement you propose? If the decision will be that final, perhaps we should just get it over with.”
“We could. But with an equal chance that Seth might take my path, are you willing to take the risk before you must? I don’t propose this as an alternative, Lucifer, but as a last possible resort.”
He stared at her for a long moment without speaking. Then, suddenly, hostility fell away to reveal raw agony shining from his eyes. “Is there any hope?” he asked. “Can you ever love me again?”
The One stared at him, her most beautiful of all creations, wrought from desire and longing and her own infinite capacity for love. She had not laid eyes on him since his departure from Heaven more than a thousand years before, had refused even to call his image to mind, and so allowed herself a moment now to study him. To remember all he had been . . . see all he still was.
He stood before her, tall and fair, his eyes the pure, crystalline color of amethyst, his magnificent wings pulsing with a glow that had faded only slightly in the years apart from her. The One’s heart contracted in a spasm of pain a hundred thousand times greater than his would ever be. Could ever be. Even now, even after all he had done, all he had become, it seemed light itself originated within him.
Lucifer, her Light-Bearer, stared back at her, waiting.
She answered with the truth. “I never stopped.”
The hope she needed to inspire within him sparked in his eyes at last. He held her gaze a moment longer, then crossed the room to the desk. Pulling the parchment toward him, he plucked a feather from his wing, dipped it into an ink pot, and signed his name. The scratch of quill tip against paper was loud in the silence that had fallen. He held the feather out to her.
“We have an agreement,” he said.
With all her heart, she wanted to believe him.
Giveaway!!
Linda Poitevin is giving one lucky winner a signed print copy of
Sins of the Angels! Contest open to US and Canadian addresses only please. To enter, please fill out the Rafflecopter form below. Contest is open until Midnight Feb. 11th.
Good Luck, Everyone!
