21 January 2019

Q & A with Katherine Wyvern!

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).

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’?


“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:


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

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