When I first met AK Nevermore, we bonded over our love for all things Poe. Then I read her debut novel and I knew I was in the company of a brilliant storyteller. AK writes paranormal fantasy, erotic paranormal MC, dark MC romance, and spicy dystopian romance. Her books are so wonderful, I convinced her to appear here today for an author interview and to talk about her upcoming The Price of Talent dystopian series. She agreed. So, grab a glass of your favorite drink (we’re sipping bourbon) and join us. Take it away, AK…
What is your writing process?
I sit there and do it. I know some people have rituals or have to get into a certain mood, but it all comes down to just making yourself do the work. Some days I enjoy it and some days it’s painful as hell, but I sit down to do it every single day.
How important are names to you in your books? Do you choose the names based on liking the way it sounds or the meaning?
Sometimes yes and sometimes no. My characters usually name themselves and that’s just the way it is but it weirdly works out to be kismet in most cases, like my main character in Breaker. Laughlin’s name means “stranger” which I found out after the fact, but I really love that for him.
Where do you see yourself in 5 years?
No idea, but I’m going to assume I’ll be very, very tired.
Are you a plotter or a pantster?
1000% Pantser. And I write sci-fi, so that is actually mathematically possible.
Do you read your reviews? Do you respond to them, good or bad? Do you have any advice on how to deal with the bad?
I do, and typically thank the people who write the nice ones because they are super appreciated. Bad reviews…meh. Generally, that person and my book weren’t a good match and that’s okay. It happens. And then there are the ones that are written by someone who’s mad your book wasn’t a box of waffles or something. Those you just have to laugh at.
What is your least favorite part of the publishing / writing process?
Marketing. It’s really awful. I mean, for readers it’s great that self publishing has allowed so many people to bring their books to market, but for authors getting noticed in the sea of new releases is a major undertaking.
Do you have a favorite spot to write? What is it?
Yep. On my couch. I can’t write at a desk or table.
Is there a certain type of scene that’s harder for you to write than others? Love? Action? Racy?
Sedate scenes where people have civil conversations. My brain starts screaming at me to blow something up and they typically don’t last for very long.
Is this your first book? How many books have you written prior (if any?)
Breaker will be my tenth book, I think? They’re kind of running together at this point.
What are you working on now? What is your next project?
The Price of Talent Series is my current focus, though there’s stuff going on with my other series. I’m trying to finish up the fourth book of Mayhem, and then I’m going to be diving back into Split and Overlord.
What is your biggest failure?
I don’t think in these terms. Like, I mess up all the time, but I don’t fail. I think that has a kind of finality to it that limits a person’s mindset. Maybe something didn’t work out the way you expected it to, or at all, but then this other thing happened and without XYZ it wouldn’t have been possible. So it’s not a failure, it’s more like stepping stones to the next big thing. And I’m a big believer of sneaking in a window when you see a closed door.
Do you drink? Smoke? What’s your vice?
I’m a big bourbon drinker and I have a weakness for clove cigarettes. Currently on the wagon for the latter.
What literary character is most like you?
Jessica Jones.
Where is one place you want to visit that you haven’t been before?
I would love to go to Europe, Britain in particular. I’ve got a lot of friends over there I would love to meet up with in person. That and castles. I’d just really love to go over there and soak up the age of the place.
If you were an animal, what would you be and why?
I’d like to say a cat, but I’d probably be a possum. Not particularly approachable, likes to hiss at people, I’d get to fake my death when things got weird, and eat a ton of garbage. Yeah. That sounds like me.
What were you like as a child? Your favorite toy?
I was very quiet and spent my summers typing.
Thank you, AK, for your insightful answers. I really enjoyed interviewing you. Readers, scroll down to read about her upcoming release…
Title: Breaker
Author: AK Nevermore
Genre: Dystopian Romance
Book Blurb:
Beware the Coming Storm...
Self-exiled to the Outside, Flynn Scot is oath-bound to a life of strict penance.
Cursed with a vicious temper and haunted by the blood-stained debauchery of his past, Flynn’s sworn off women, whiskey, and violence, and doesn’t give a damn about whispers of the coming war. He sure as hell isn’t in the mood to make good on a debt when it’s called in, especially when playing white knight outs him as a Talent, and the damsel in distress as his soulmate.
On the run from her future as a broodmare for the Source, escaped Talent Kara Jester is no distressed damsel.
And the last thing she wants is to be trapped in a blizzard with a surly—and frustratingly captivating—thug. Without the suppression meds holding her libido in check, her biology’s primed to procreate, and Flynn’s growled assurances that he won’t touch her doesn’t match the hunger in his eyes.
It doesn’t align with what fate has in store for them, either.
With elite troops hot on their heels and the border set to close, it’s a race to the North, away from Kara’s horrific future and towards the dark past Flynn wants to keep buried. Clinging to the shreds of his oath, he’s forced to choose between protecting the woman he’s afraid to love and letting out the animal he swore he’d never be again. Either may destroy him, if Kara’s secrets don’t get them killed first.
18+ Excerpt:
Flynn buzzed his lips and folded, slinging his cards onto the table. The prick across from him grinned, his pockmarked cheeks making like an accordion as he snapped his cards down, one by f*cking one.
“Flush, muthaf*cka.”
Like it would’ve taken more than two pair to beat the deuces Flynn’d been nursing. He shrugged, scanning the room as he lazed back, scraping one foot through the liberal layer of sawdust gumming the floor. His other leg stayed kicked forward, a hunk of dead meat. Change of position shot pain from his knee straight to his groin. Christ, this was gonna suck—
“You still in?” one of the prick’s sidekicks asked around a toothpick. Him, the other two at the table, and the eight taking turns tapping ass in the back room were all Underhill; soldiers for the scab crew that’d claimed Lyden. Not the worst gang Outside, but that didn’t mean Flynn wanted to dance. He had enough trouble walking.
“Nah. I’m spent.” His lack of interest wasn’t feigned. It was what was coming next that had his proverbial panties in a twist, but f*cked-up knee or not, the chance to get clear of the Fuil’s onus had offered itself up on a silver platter, and he had to take it.
The prick licked his lips, snagging the bag of sear before anything else in the pot. Man wasn’t stupid. Shit was worth a mint. He swept up the rest of his win, leaving the cards scattered. Even if Flynn had the inclination for another hand, the answer would’ve been no. The fevered glint in the prick’s eye was all about that bag of dope he’d just pocketed. Delaying his fix wouldn’t go well.
And Flynn needed this to go well. He had that damned onus with the Fuil to settle and his cuff to get back. Oh, and promises to keep. Might as well change his name to Robert f*cking Frost.
He pushed out of the chair, wincing as he stood. The mood in the room hitched, men’s hands finding reasons to brush across whatever heat they were packing. Flynn kept his movements slow, arms loose at his sides, waiting for someone to breathe. This close to the Source, being built like a brick shithouse topping six-eight made trigger fingers itchy. It pissed him off.
He wasn’t a f*cking Breaker.
The set to his jaw and whitening of his knuckles wasn’t doing anything to dissuade them of the notion. The genetically engineered enforcers had a penchant for violence. Shit, so did he, but not the kind that included razing, raping, and pillaging scab squats under a veneer of Corporation-sanctioned peace keeping.
Didn’t matter. Wouldn’t take much for one of these assholes to try and pop him off, despite his beard and the scars running through it like a roadmap in relief. Both were proof-positive he wasn’t from the Source, but facts were for shit when people got excited, and he was one ugly mofo. Didn’t exactly engender warm fuzzies.
Christ, he didn’t have time for this shit. Flynn forced himself to push past the old hurt and relax. Okay, fake relaxing. He’d smile, but that usually made things worse. “Sorry. Not my night.”
The prick grinned, and a murmur went through the room, hands drifting back to tankards and whores. He stood, the soldiers at the table rising with him. His fist bulged his coat where he gripped those six grams of pending euphoria.
“Sucks to be you, but s’been a pleasure on my end.” The prick tipped an imaginary cap at him and whistled. His soldiers fell in, making for the door. Safety in numbers was a euphemism. More like upping your odds by providing alternate targets.
“Can’t say the same,” Flynn muttered. Didn’t have to fake that.
The prick’s guffaw hung in the crepuscular funk of the room as they left.
Flynn sighed, raking a hand through his hair. Right. Trap was baited, now he just had to kill time. Solid five minutes for them to get back to the compound. Omar, Underhill’s boss, would be out in twenty. It’d take all of a minute-six for them to break out that baggie once he was clear.
Flynn’d be in and out before they peeled themselves up off the floor.
At least, that’s what he kept telling himself.
Buy Links (including Goodreads and BookBub)
Author Biography
AK Nevermore writes dystopian romance & dark romantasy with spice. She enjoys operating heavy machinery, freebases coffee, and gives up sarcasm for Lent every year. A Jane-of-all-trades, she’s a certified chef, restores antiques, and dabbles in beekeeping when she’s not reading voraciously or running down the dream in her beat-up camo Chucks.
Unable to ignore the voices in her head, and unwilling to become medicated, she writes full time around a nest full of ravens. Her books explore dark worlds, perversely irreverent and profound, and always entertaining.
AK belongs to the Authors Guild, is an RWA chapter board member, volunteers for far too many committees, teaches creative writing, and on the rare occasion, sleeps.
Social Media Links
• Website: https://aknevermore.com/
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• Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/ak-nevermore