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The logic behind all of Kent’s villain-centered work goes back to a childhood conviction that the bad guy deserved better. That conviction, formed at age five watching an indie film, shaped every project that followed, and it is most fully realized in ‘Kiss the Villain’, the first book in their catalog where no character occupies the position of moral anchor.
At the tender age of five, I fell hopelessly in love with a villain from an obscure indie film. When he met his untimely end, I sobbed inconsolably, wailing that it simply wasn’t ‘fair.’ My family watched, half-amused, half-bewildered, as I stood up for the misunderstood bad guy.
Kent describes their career as a sustained advocacy project on behalf of characters the mainstream narrative discards. ‘Kiss the Villain’ takes that project one step further: there is no fierce woman positioned outside the darkness to love the monster, because both protagonists occupy the same dark ground.
I made it my mission to be their voice and give them the endings they deserve. It began with tales of monsters but soon evolved into stories about the fierce women brave enough to love them.
The Villain series, a spinoff of the Legacy of Gods universe, is the point where that evolution turns on itself: the brave woman is removed from the equation entirely.
The MM direction of ‘Kiss the Villain’ was a deliberate, pre-announced commitment rather than a late pivot. Kent confirmed the plan to readers while the Legacy of Gods series was still in progress, months before the book had a title.
Yes, there will be an MM book in Legacy of Gods.
Kent’s starting point in any project is character, not architecture. They have described this as a standing habit across separate interviews, not a choice made book by book, which matters for ‘Kiss the Villain’: Gareth Carson, one of its two protagonists, had been living inside the Legacy of Gods world as a secondary figure long before Kent announced he would carry his own story.
They actually come hand in hand, but usually, the characters live with me long before the complete plot comes along. That’s part of the reason why I write extremely character-driven books.
The gap between when a book is written and when it appears is wide by design. Kent builds in months of editorial work before any book reaches readers, a structure that holds even when the material is as emotionally pressurized as two antagonists falling into obsession.
I write months beforehand so the book can have time for beta readers, editors and proofreaders. I’m very goal-oriented and I make a clear schedule then stick to it.
Dark male characters sometimes push Kent past their own comfort threshold mid-draft. The instinct to stop is real, but they treat it as a signal to keep going, a discipline that shapes how far the men in their books are allowed to go before the narrative pulls back.
The darkness gets too much when I personally hate my male characters, but I push through those feelings anyway, because I eventually love them.
Reader expectations and fan theories, however vocal, do not redirect Kent’s plots. They made this clear as early as 2019, when the Royal Elite series was still running, and nothing in the available sources suggests the policy changed for the Villain series.
I was always a rebel who wrote what I connected with the most.
The Gareth question is the sharpest data point in the available record. Asked directly, before ‘Kiss the Villain’ existed, whether Gareth Carson would get his own book, Kent said he would not. The book appeared in March 2025 with Gareth as protagonist. The sources do not capture Kent explaining the reversal, but the reversal itself is the argument: a character Kent once ruled out became the one they chose to center.
Landon, Brandon, and Nikolai will get their books. As for Gareth, he won’t.
Whatever changed between that answer and the book’s publication, the outcome is consistent with the broader claim Kent makes about their work: that the characters who seem most unlikely to get an ending are precisely the ones they want to give one.
Asked to account for the persistent pull villains have on their imagination, Kent’s answer is deliberately light, as if the depth of the commitment doesn’t require defending. The lightness is the point: for Kent, preferring the villain is not a provocation but a settled fact about who they are as a reader and a writer.
What can I say, I have a soft spot for villains, I guess?