Behind The Scenes

Evenshore began, as many of my stories do, with a single image:
a greenhouse glowing in the dead of night, its glass fogged with breath,
its light too alive to be anything ordinary.

I didn't know who lived inside it or what grew beneath those panes—only that something there remembered being human. That image lingered in the back of my mind for months, tapping against the edges of my thoughts like a branch on a window during a storm.

The rest came slowly.

The lighthouse appeared first, standing guard over a coastline that had lost too much. Then the house—weathered, patient, holding secrets in its bones. And finally, the woman returning home after running as far as she could from the truth that shaped her.

What surprised me most while writing this book was how alive the town of Evenshore became. The tides felt like characters. The mist kept its own counsel. Even the silence of the forest had opinions. Every draft pulled me deeper into a place that was equal parts haunting and healing.

Return to Evenshore isn't just a story about coming home.
It's about what waits for us in the places we abandoned…
and the magic that never stopped waiting.

It's about grief that glows instead of burns.
About family found where we least expect it.
About second chances, even when we believe we've used them all.

And it's about the courage to open a door—literal or otherwise—knowing the world behind it may not be the same one we left.

If Evenshore finds you, I hope it does what it did for me:
make you believe, for a moment, that the wild and impossible might be growing just out of sight, waiting for the right person to return.