a look at Katherine Wyvern & ‘Spice & Vanilla’ @KatherineWyvern @evernightpub #erotic #gay #GenderQueer

Today we have author Katherine Wyvern visiting. Welcome!

What would you like to tell readers about yourself?

* Katherine Wyvern. A gipsy soul who lived in Italy, Norway, Germany, Spain and France, but mostly in a private universe of her own. Writer of hot and twisted tales.

Find Katherine Wyvern here…
Blog | Facebook | Instagram | Twitter | Website

A look into…

~ Inspiration ~

* Hello, and thank you so much for hosting me today and letting me talk a little about my new book, Spice & Vanilla!
* Spice and Vanilla came about as a sum of two different story-lines that screamed to be put into words.
* One was a spill-over from my previous release, Woman as a Foreign Language. In that story there was a male-to-female cross-dresser whose painful past of disclosure and rejection was alluded to only briefly. I wanted to expand on that element, and explore the tremendous emotional rollercoaster that all parties involved in such a coming-out will go through.
* The second story line was sparked in one millisecond when a dear, dear friend of mine described himself as an angel with a bit of a devil inside. That immediately made me want to write this character that is constantly on the fence of… anything, really. He’s gender-fluid, bisexual, a really sweet man with a seriously dark side, and a switch on top of everything…
* That was supposed to be a light and hot short story, but when it collided with the first story-line, it became a full length novel and an incredible emotional journey, with one of the most complex characters I ever wrote… there were times when I thought I’d lose my sanity trying to keep up with Raphael’s twists and turns.

~ Blurb ~

* Time was, when Di could dance all night. Time was, when she could ride any horse in the stable. Time was when she had a fiancée, a future and a home she loved. Until a silver SUV came out of nowhere and broke her life in half.
* Well concealed under a sarcastic, spiny hide, Hugh has a darkly romantic, passionate soul. Torn between love and terror, he’s held the talented, elegant, magnetic Raphael carefully at arm’s length since the day they met.
* Male or female, men or women, kinky or sweet, top or bottom? Angel or devil? Raphael’s life is a string of unanswered questions. And Lucie, his long-hidden female self, may bring it all together or destroy everything he has.
Be warned: cross-dressing, gender-queer, explicit M/M and M/F sex, anal sex, spanking, flogging, bondage, forced orgasm, sex toys

~ Excerpt ~

* Hugh watched him stroking away with great contentment. He was totally worn out after a crazy day at work, and it was not always easy to find the energy to satisfy such an enthusiastic masochist. There were days when he wished Raphael were a bit less fond of being spanked and whipped, but he always did his best to oblige him. The thought of his Raphael going out there looking for release from God-only-knows-whom, and getting hurt for real by some less scrupulous or talented Dom was just unbearable. Still, tonight he would lie back and relax. Mostly. I will have to help him eventually, he thought with a slightly evil grin, but I can take a breather first.
* Raphael stroked in perfect tempo. He was one of the most technically exact musicians Hugh had ever played with, after all. Too exact, in fact.
* It would do him so much good to let go a bit, to just go with the flow, be wild and imprecise and purely passionate. Then he would not need so much of this.
* Tick—tock—tick—tock—tick—tock, went the metronome, and Raphael stroked and stroked. It was a good while before Hugh could tell, from a small furrow between those blond eyebrows, that the unchanging, slow rhythm was beginning to frustrate him. He smiled a bit wider and said nothing, devouring his beautiful quarry with his eyes. He watched, entranced the fluid play of flesh and skin as Raphael’s long pale cock, a nice ruddy purple by now, sank and reemerged into and from his fist, the velvet-like foreskin lapping beautifully over the shinier, silky glans, the testicles bouncing softly to the rhythm as the scrotum was pulled up and released. It was hard to resist the temptation to throw the whole scene to the devil and just take that cock in his mouth and suck it empty.
* This is without exception the best use a metronome was ever put to.
* Raphael’s body was developing a number of small, charming tics and twitches. He briefly lifted his left knee from the mattress then relaxed again. His right wrist was pulling on the strap from time to time, and his breath was coming in slightly ragged bursts.
* Still it took a long time. Too much control, thought Hugh, smiling. Tsk-tsk.
* Tick—tock—tick—tock.
* He slowly unfolded his hands and moved to sit between Raphael’s legs. He spit on his middle finger and watched Raphael’s face, half hopeful, half anxious, as he slowly approached his anus. He didn’t hurry. He let Raphael wait for it. He would beg, in time, Hugh knew, but there was no need for that, not yet. He finally pressed his fingertip to the twitching, tight, live rose of flesh and felt it jolt and spasm. He massaged it in circles, with relish, and didn’t even try to penetrate it. Raphael was shaking all over, trying to press down on his finger, but there was just so far he could stretch, tied as he was. His belly muscles went taut. They were contracting in random, jerky convulsions. Hugh had never seen anything so beautiful.
* Then Raphael missed a beat. His hand had picked up pace, ignoring all orders. Raphael whimpered, trying to compensate to get back in the right tempo. The double change of pace made him squirm all over. He swallowed twice and missed the beat again. This time Hugh slapped the inside of his thigh, very hard. Raphael could take a long regular series of well-spaced blows with relative ease, but a single hard slap coming down out of the blue like that drew a ragged cry from him.
* “You do know what tempo means, I asked?” Hugh said, in a plain chatty voice. He had never had any taste whatsoever for histrionics. He was not, he had never been, a theatrical Dom. He wasn’t in it for setting up a show. He just got the job done.
* “Yes. Yes!” said Raphael, a bit frantic. He managed to stick to the rhythm for a minute longer, until Hugh gently stuck his finger just within the ring of his anus. All of Raphael’s body twisted, and he lost all track of the cold, mechanical rhythm of the metronome.
* And that is exactly what you need, my love. Too much playing by the rules, too much fucking control. You need to find your own tempo, and just let go.
* Five or six fast hard strokes followed. Hugh slapped him twice, on his thigh, and, when he turned suddenly, on his butt. And then Raphael came, on the third slap, as he flopped flat on his back again, crying out in pleasure or pain, or both. It was hard to tell. Semen spurted out in beautiful, long, arched white streamers, splattering over Raphael’s belly, chest, and even his face.
* It is difficult to aim while being spanked hard.
* Hugh watched him coming, avidly.
* He was so naked. So vulnerable, so unguarded. Hugh, who felt, every day, that he might shatter like glass, on Raphael’s unearthly, impossibly graceful, self-possessed beauty, lived for these moments, to watch him released of all self-consciousness and all bonds. Strange, how it took a bunch of leather straps to get him to do that.
* “Ah, oh, shit. That hurt,” Raphael whispered after a minute. “Not complaining, mind,” he added, with a small edgy laugh, wiping some drops of sperm from his lips and eyebrow.
* “Good,” said Hugh, quite composed, despite the erection straining in his pants. Watching Raphael twitching and jolting while covered in glistening semen was not a sight to leave him unmoved. He reached out for the metronome, stopped it and lowered the weight a tad, then started it again.
* This was a faster, business-like tempo.
* “There you go, hot lips,” he said to Raphael, who was still breathing hard from his orgasm.
* “What? Wh—but…”
* Hugh gave him a small devilish smile. Raphael was perfectly capable of coming two or three times in one night, but, like most men, he needed a while to recuperate in between. Well, tonight, he wasn’t getting it.
* “You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?”
* You can also find an exclusive excerpt on my website, here

Buy Spice & Vanilla here…
Amazon | Evernight Publishing

Thank you for joining us here today, Katherine Wyvern! It was a pleasure getting to know you and your story.

a look at ‘Woman as a Foreign Language’ by @KatherineWyvern @evernightpub #LGBTQ

Today we have author Katherine Wyvern visiting. Welcome!

What would you like to tell readers about yourself?

* Katherine is a gipsy soul who lived in Italy, Norway, Germany, France and Spain but mostly in some private universe of her own.
* She still lives a half wild life among the woods and castles of the Dordogne in South West France, together with her husband, cats, horses, ducks and dog.
* She’s worked as a printer, a welder and a gardener, and she’s been writing since she can remember, mostly poetry, fantasy and erotica, sometimes mixed together in weird ways.
* Nowadays, when not busy with walking, horse-whispering or dream-weaving, she is usually painting, embroidering or working her backbone off in the garden.

Find Katherine Wyvern here…
Blog | Facebook Page | Website

A look into…

* Thank you for having me on your blog today to talk about my new book Woman as a Foreign Language.
* This is the strange love story between a girl who is incapable of expressing her feminine side and a man who on the contrary is really good at it.
* There are more than a few autobiographical elements in the book, so that writing it was sometimes painful and sometimes exhilarating, and in the end, certainly cathartic!
* Unlike my other books, which have usually expansive Sci-Fi or Fantasy settings, this is a very intimate love story, mostly set indoors in a gritty contemporary town. Without the trimmings of fancy world building the focus is entirely on these two unique, compelling characters, and this is without exception the most beautiful love story I have ever written.
* I hope you will give it a go and enjoy it as much as I do!

~ Blurb ~

* What do you do when the woman you want to be … is a man?
* Nina’s abusive childhood left her feeling so vulnerable when wearing anything flimsier than combat boots that she has spent her whole adult life dressed like a gang boy. But when she meets the tall, glamourous, charismatic Julia (actually her cross-dressing neighbor, Julian, going out en femme), Nina is seized by an overwhelming and terrifying urge to finally express her own femininity.
* Julia/n has not only a slightly split personality but also a thoroughly broken heart. What s/he wants most is a partner who will love both Julia and Julian. While Nina learns from Julia how to be a woman, Julian discovers that they might well be made for each other, but it will take a struggle against prejudice and a whole conservative mind-set before they can follow their hearts, and express their true, unique, and beautiful selves.

~ Excerpt ~

* “Well, are we going out this evening or what?” asked Julia, seeing Nina sitting down still naked on the bed.
* “Oh, it will take me two minutes to get ready,” said Nina, smiling up at her. “I am not such a woman as you,” she added, grinning impishly.
* “Oh, indeed?” said Julia, and pinched her nose in passing, then went to the wardrobe to fish out some stockings, a pocket bra and breast forms. Boobs were invariably the first thing. She liked her body well enough, as a man or a woman, except for that flat chest. A girl should have tits, and a boy should have some muscle at least, but somehow, she had failed to achieve either. The sweet, soft, bouncy weight of the breast forms immediately made her feel better about herself. Stockings were always the next thing. Her legs were as smooth as silk in any case, but the sleek feel of stockings on them was almost an aphrodisiac. Time was, long ago, when she was much, much younger, when just wearing a pair of stockings would give her a hard-on. She was not such a green horn anymore, luckily, because the last thing she needed right now was an erection.
* She stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror, and pulled on her gaff half the way. She gently maneuvered her testicles back up to where they were before they dropped (if only they had stayed there, she thought despondently, and not for the first time), then gave her empty scrotum a slight twist and pushed it down and back towards her buttocks. She was on the point of tucking her penis down and under the same way (if she laid them side by side, they looked every bit like labia through her gaff … et voilà, instant pussy… more or less), when she caught sight of Nina’s eyes. Nina was still sitting on the bed, still naked, and gazing at her with those gorgeous gipsy eyes, studying everything Julia did and every inch of her body. Julia threw a look at her own lean, white figure in the mirror. She was standing with a hand between her legs and her gaff askew, half way between her knees and her hips, which felt somewhat less than graceful and dignified, and she wondered what Nina was seeing that was so entrancing.
* “What?” she asked, smiling.
* “Nothing. I did wonder where they went, when … you know.”
* Julia grinned. “They don’t go very far, worry not.”
* Nina stretched herself long, like a happy cat, still gazing hungrily at her, eating her with her eyes.
* And suddenly Julia stiffened. “Oh dear,” she said.
* “What?” asked Nina, in a somewhat comical echo of what Julia had said less than a minute earlier.
* “Er … ahem. Stop looking at me. Just don’t. I can’t tuck it with a hard-on!”
* Nina covered her face with her hands, vainly trying to suppress a fit of laughter. “I didn’t do anything. I didn’t!”
* Julia was laughing too by now. It was hopeless. She let the whole lot hang out again and took two short steps to the bed (the gaff half-way up made it impossible to step out properly). She kneeled on the bed and started tickling Nina’s feet, the back of her knees and her sides.
* “I didn’t do anything, I didn’t,” Nina repeated, between peals of laughter.
* “Ah, but you were thinking, don’t deny that you were thinking.”
* “Ok, ok, maybe I was, a little bit, please stop, stop, please!” Nina turned on her side, and curled up in a tight ball, still shaking with laughter. Julia stopped tickling her and pushed her on her belly, wiggled out of the gaff, then straddled Nina’s small buttocks and leaned down to nuzzle her neck and the back of her head.
* “What were you thinking, you imp? Mh? What were you thinking?”
* She bit gently into Nina’s earlobe and kissed her cheek. Nina smiled beatifically.
* “That you are an elf, an angel, a goddess.”
* “A female-female she-goddess? Really, with all this embarrassment hanging out all over the place like this?”
* She let her cock and her smooth, smooth balls brush Nina’s buttocks, smiled and kissed her again.
* “Always. You will always be a goddess to me,” murmured Nina, drinking in the kisses, her eyes closed. Her hand searched for Julia’s hand, their fingers wove together of their own accord, and Nina drew the hand closer to kiss Julia’s fingertips one by one, adoringly. Julia smiled and pressed her breasts down on Nina’s back, rubbing them gently on her shoulder blades.
* She kissed Nina again and again, on her temple, cheek, eyelid, nose, the corner of her mouth. She was so precious. Sleek, small-boned, but fierce and sharp, like a bird of prey, hooded and caged, but never quite tamed. And I have set you free, and you chose to fly to me.
* “I love you. Darling,” she whispered in her ear, in her huskiest, deepest voice, and Nina shuddered all over while her spine gave a twist, as Julia knew it would. Nina turned under her, to hug her and draw her body down. Julia moved her knees within Nina’s legs, and just like that, without any difficulty, her untimely erection found a place to go.
* So wet. How can you become so wet just by looking at me? What do you see that nobody else ever saw? What do you see that even I don’t see? Julia sank her face in Nina’s neck, to kiss her, bite her, whisper in her ear, yes, oh yes, whisper and murmur and cajole, until my voice will make you melt, my love, my love, my love.
(You can also find an exclusive excerpt on my website, HERE. And of course you can download the beginning of the story for free from Amazon!

Buy Woman as a Foreign Language here…
Amazon | Evernight Publishing

Thank you for joining us here today, Katherine Wyvern! It was a pleasure getting to know you and your story.