Hello Katherine! Thank you so
much for visiting Written Butterfly with me today! It’s such a pleasure to chat with you. So tell me…
Q) How did you dream
up the dynamics of your characters?
How did I ever? Good question! I am always a pantser but
this was the most serious bit of pantsing I ever did. This story galloped out
at top speed and half of the time I had no idea what was happening. Rikko’, my
pirate, was supposed to get romantic with a certain wealthy powerful lady in
the book… but he didn’t. He was adamant that he was gay, and I had to come up
with a boy for him. And because Rikko’ was outrageously sexy and a bit of a
dark character, I thought I’d write a softer, sweeter counterpart for him. That
is how Gael came to be. And whereas Rikko’ has a secret wound, Gael has a
secret strength to match. They are very complementary, which I think works well
for them.
Q) Is this book part
of a series? If so, can you tell us
about it?
This is a spin-off from a novel that was published in 2014,
called Spellbreakers, based in a sort of fantasy version of Europe. It came
about as it’s one story to begin with but then fell into that universe really
well.
Q) Can you give a
fun or interesting fact about your book?
There is a
very opinionated ring-tailed lemur in it… she is very jealous... but only of
other females.
Q) What do you think is your strongest asset
as a writer? …what is your weakest factor as a writer?
My strongest
asset? Possibly my voice, which is very lyrical in parts, and very… well, very
“voicey”. It’s the thing people immediately remark upon. My weakest factor? My
voice, again. It’s a love or hate thing. Some readers find it vivid and
engulfing and are enchanted with it.
Others find it antiquated and distracting. You can’t please everybody.
Q) Do you try more to
be original or to deliver to readers what they want?
I can’t say I actively try to be original, but I don’t
really think of readers when I write (something my editor keeps nagging me
about). I think I mostly write for my characters, and myself. I want to give
them the best story, and live alternate lives through them. If the readers
appreciate that, of course, I am over the moon (and always a little surprised,
because I am such an oddball).
Q) Do you plan all
your characters out before you start a story or do they develop as you write?
Oh dear, no, I could not plan a character to save my life.
Usually it’s them who decide what to do. Rikko’, the pirate in this story,
really wiped the floor with me. He was out of control start to finish. I wanted
him to be light and funny, and he became dark and brooding. I wanted him to
have a menage, and he said, he was a man who only loved once (which is really
unusual for my characters!). I wanted him to be the Queen’s Pirate and he said
he’d be the Pirate Queen. I gave up. *throws hands in the air*. He is just his
own man. I am not responsible for his antics. I really ain’t.
Q) Do you want each book to stand on its own, or are you trying to
build a body of work with connections between each book?
Both. And it can change. Spellbreakers was supposed to have a sequel,
which didn’t come, but then sprouted this incredibly fun spin-off, In the Eye
of the Wind.
Black Carnival was supposed to be part of a trilogy, but so far only two
novels happened (BC itself and White Sands) and two short stories (Head Shy and
Hell’s Mercy).
My most recent books, Woman as a Foreign Language, Spice & Vanilla
and A muse to Live For are all stand alones, but subtly interconnected. I think
of them as “loose trilogy”. Some stories are just “isolated incidents”, like my
free-read The Nymph in the Stolen Garden, or my fairytale romance The Garden of
a Thousand Nightingales.
Q) What are your
upcoming projects?
I am a little burnt-out to be honest, right now, but I hope
to get to work on a very thrilling sci/fi story I conceived last year (and
wrote a few pages of). It was supposed to be a cooperation with my husband, but
he chickened out and I am on my own now. It is a time-traveling story with a
slightly heart-breaking twist on the concept of fated mate. If the muse helps
I’ll try to get to work on it after A Muse to Live For is released, probably in
February (I apologize for the number of muses in this sentence, but such is my
life).
Blurb:
Born in the northern wastes of Kaleva in the middle of a devastating war
between light and darkness, Rikko’ has found his way south to the warm shores
of the Circled Sea, the first elver to ever turn pirate.
Forbidden by the rules of the Andalouan
court to pursue such an ungentlemanly career, Gael can only dream of ever
becoming a doctor, and his medical studies remain unfinished until his aunt the
Queen sends him on a covert mission to the pirate city of Beyas’kahl.
And here, after one night with Rikko’,
all his loyalties are put to the test.
Queen Amata has reigned for three
decades, and she always used her men cunningly. But even the best player can
miscalculate, and her blunder places Gael first in slavery, then in a naval
battle, and finally, worst of all, face to face with Rikko’s darkest and
deadliest side.
From such darkness, is there any coming
back? Is there any hope of love for Gael, or redemption for Rikko’?
Excerpt:
“Come, Puna, sweetie,” he said, plucking the lemur off
Gael’s shoulder with one hand.
He placed her on his chest of drawers, on a pile of freshly
laundered clothes, her favorite bedding in the world, after himself. She
grumbled a little but soon settled down. “And as for you, my boy, you come here
to me,” he whispered, drawing Gael to the edge of his bed, where they both
tumbled down together, kissing.
Gael was still frantically pecking at him, with those
tight-lipped clueless kisses that drove Rikko’ to distraction. He let himself
be kissed like that for some minutes—it was so ridiculously lovable.
Ah, it is a pity to teach him anything, he thought. I wish I
could keep him like this forever. He knows nothing, except that he has this
need…
But you can’t have your cake and eat it, I suppose.
“Wait, sweet, wait,” he whispered finally, and laid Gael on
his back, pinning his body down with his folded leg as he lay beside him, and
took his cheek in his palm. He put his mouth to Gael’s mouth, and gently,
slowly, savoring every minute instant of it, he ran the tip of his tongue along
the seam of those tightly closed lips, lightly at first, then harder, until the
lips finally parted, like two halves of a plum, and Gael gasped in surprise and
then lust. His body arched in desire when Rikko’s tongue met his, and he
groaned with hunger, welcoming the new intimacy of that tongue-to-tongue kiss
with an adoring fierceness that had Rikko’ near to tears with emotion. He
groaned again, hugging Rikko’ closer, sinking his fingers in his hair, touching
his face and neck and ears, pursuing his mouth when Rikko’ pulled back to
breathe, licking Rikko’s lips.
Rikko’ had never met any grown man (Gael was young, sure,
but not a child—Rikko’ despised child lovers, and never, ever went close to the
little creatures himself) both so inexperienced, so shy, and yet so
wholeheartedly passionate. It was enchanting, and utterly enflaming. He laughed
softly and pulled back from the kisses. This was just too much. He could not
wait any longer. He needed to touch this boy properly all over; he had to have
his cock in his mouth, and maybe, if Gael was so inclined, inside that
beautiful, taut little butt.
“Too many clothes,” he said, in Gael’s ear. He kicked off
his flip-flops, and realized, with a bit of a shock, that he was still wearing
his dagger, stuck in his sash, and his sword belt. He had forgotten all about
them. He crossed the room to lay both weapons on his chest of drawers and
untied his sash, and felt Gael’s hands on his hips.
“C—can I? Sir? Please?” whispered the boy, and Rikko’ smiled
as Gael, with almost religious awe, unwound the length of silk from around his
waist and hips and let it fall to the floor around his feet.
Rikko’ stepped out of the puddled folds and murmured, “You
too.”
He finished undressing in a few seconds. He never wore a
lot. It just got in the way.
Gael took off his clothes, and Rikko’ watched him from the
bed, waiting. Under those strangely unattractive breeches and shirt, he was
every bit as delicious as Rikko’ had always known he would be, not particularly
muscular, but sleek and quick, and just a little awkward, like a young animal,
full-grown but still uncertain of his body.
Rikko’ pulled him close, pressing that lithe soft form
against his own, and their cocks met halfway, both hard and quite ready, so
that they had to be pulled up against their bellies for them to embrace. Rikko’
smiled and palmed Gael’s butt, and kissed him, deep and long, and then put a
hand between them and took the boy’s member in his fingers just for a bit of a
feel, a bit of foreplay.
He tugged at the lovely taut cock once.
Gael gave a sort of astonished yelp, tensed all over, and
then moaned wildly against Rikko’s shoulder, oh, oh, ooh, and suddenly Rikko’
found himself awash in hot, splashing, dripping jets of sperm, all down his
belly, lap, and leg, a veritable, goddamn, bleeding flood of it.
He let go, dumbfounded, and then burst into laughter.
“Wh—well, I’ll be … what the…” he began, but, really, he
could only laugh. I just barely touched him!
“Damn it, doctor, our ship sprung a leak,” he said finally,
still laughing. “I’m drowned!”
“Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods,” said Gael, absolutely frantic,
“oh gods, sir, I am so sorry!” He jumped out of bed, fumbling around. “I’ll
find my handkerchief, sir, I’ll mop it up this minute…”
Rikko’ laughed even harder and stretched out to pull him
back in bed.
“Stop that. Leave it. Leave it, damn it! It’s all right. I’m
joking. It’s all right! It’s all good! Stuff’s good for the skin, it is known.
Leave it.” He couldn’t stop laughing.
Visit In
the Eye of the Wind’s web page with maps and an exclusive excerpt:
Bio:
I have
entered that age when looking at beautiful male models in their prime makes me
a cougar, ahem.
Almost all
my heroines are short: that’s because I look at the world from hobbit level.
Being so small I am three times more concentrated (read: obsessive) than
anybody I know. I am exhaustingly creative in writing, arts, crafts...
Sometimes my brain gets friction burns from hurtling at such speed from one
universe to the next.
I love
animals, plants, and occasionally even people.
Like the Highlander
I come from a lot of different places. I was born in Italy but lived here and
there and consider myself simply and deeply European. I love Europe
passionately, its antiquity, its diversity, its quirkiness. All my books are
set in Europe, or alternate versions of it.
I have been
writing since I can remember.
Or follow
her on Instagram @katherinewyvern