A Canadian-born author, Lisa Voisin spent her childhood daydreaming and making up stories, but it was her love of reading and writing in her teens that drew her to Young Adult fiction.
Lisa is also a technical writer, a meditation teacher, and the leader of the Young Writer’s Club, a local writing group for teens in her home town. A self-proclaimed coffee lover, she can usually be found writing in a local café. When she's not writing, you'll find her meditating or hiking in the mountains to counteract the side effects of drinking too much caffeine!
Though she’s lived in several cities across Canada, she currently lives in Vancouver, B.C. with her fiancé and their two cats.
WEBSITE | BLOG | TWITTER | FACEBOOK | GOODREADS | MAILING LIST
Twitter: https://twitter.com/lvoisin @lvoisin
Mailing list: http://lisavoisin.us6.list-manage1.com/subscribe?u=3845a001b6170d0681adfa77a&id=bd90f09ba9
Michael leaned against the building’s stucco wall and rested his hands on my hips. Light from the store cast a warm gleam in his crystal blue eyes. He leaned in, and the draw to be close to him was a gravitational force. “Hello,” he said.
“Hello.” I had to get a grip. It’d been so long since we’d talked, I tried to focus on all the things I wanted to tell him. “We went to see Fatima.” His fingers caressed the sides of my waist, sending happy tingles through me. “You know, in her store…” To my own ears, my voice sounded raspy. I trembled.
“Cold?” He drew me closer, his mouth crooking into a grin.
Lost in him, I forgot all about Fatima. “You know damn well that’s not it.” I twined my arms around his back and touched the spot between his shoulder blades where his wings connected. Its warmth thawed my fingers.
He leaned in and brushed his lips along my jaw line. “Thought that was just me,” he whispered, and his breath tickled my neck. “I’ve wanted to do this for three days.”
Our lips met, and I melted into him, not caring that we were on the sidewalk, outside a deli with families shopping inside. Nor did I care that, being an angel, he had to follow very strict rules about contact with humans—especially contact of the relationship variety. Angels had the ability to enthrall humans with their touch, something Michael had to constantly keep in check. But I didn’t have to be enthralled to want to kiss him. That was my own doing. All that mattered right now was that he was here. With me.
He pulled me closer and the buzz of his energy filled me heart and soul, blocking out the rest of the world. My hands sought warmth under his leather jacket and found bare skin. I could feel the shiver from my touch surge through him. His mouth pressing more firmly against mine, he brushed a hand along my cheek and tangled it in my hair.
A dreamlike blur of light and color filled my thoughts. But then the image shifted to blood. His.
THE GIVEAWAY: One print copy of The Watcher (US/CA/UK) OR One pre-order copy of The Angel Killer (when available) AND One $10 Amazon Gift Card. Enter here:
About THE WATCHER (Book One in The Watcher Saga)