My Evermere Writing Process

-And the ones I'm still learning from

Before I ever queried a novel—or even called myself a writer out loud—I had this itch to capture something I couldn’t shake: all the kinds of women I’ve admired, envied a little, learned from, or dreamed of being.

I didn’t want a heroine with a single arc. I wanted a whole table full of women. The kind you meet at church potlucks or community events. The ones who know when to speak up and when to just hand you a hot plate and listen.

I’ve always loved trying things—baking, drawing, music, random crafts I have no business attempting—and I’ve always been drawn to women who know their own gifts and use them quietly, generously.

Like the woman who brings a plate of cookies and checks if you’ve had lunch.
The one who grows herbs and knows which flowers last the longest on your table.
The one who can rewire a lamp or make a perfect vinaigrette without a recipe.
The one who always has an open seat on her porch and never makes you feel like a burden.

I started imagining them—not as ideals, but as people. And they became characters.

• There’s the inn owner who helps coordinate events through parks and rec: creative, vibrant, and a little scattered—she throws amazing events and forgets where she put her keys.

• The bakery and coffee shop owner who is also on her town council: steady, generous, and just a little bossy. She believes in cinnamon, strong tea, and her town—and she will organize a fundraiser before you realize you need one.

• The lunch diner cook: nurturing and matter-of-fact. She closes at 3pm sharp because she believes in family dinners, and she’ll send you home with leftovers and the kind of advice you’ll remember at midnight.

• And the quiet florist: introspective, observant, often overlooked. But she sees what others miss—and when she does speak, it’s always exactly the right thing.

These women are all strong on their own. But together, they form a kind of supportive, interwoven powerhouse—the kind of friendship we all need, even if we only get it in pieces over time.

That’s how the story started. Not with a plot. But with the possibility of a world where women are whole, complex, generous, and real. Where their gifts don’t compete—they complement.

So when people ask why I started writing or why I’m querying now, I think it’s this:

Because I wanted to write a book that honors the women who help us become ourselves.

-Or: why my characters get to keep their curtains closed

There’s romance in my books. There’s chemistry, longing, and that moment when two people really see each other—and it changes everything.

But when things move past the kiss?  The door gently closes. And I stay on the outside.

It’s not because I’m uncomfortable with intimacy. Quite the opposite—I love writing about deep emotional connection, the tension of vulnerability, the slow build of trust, and the quiet moments where love is proven, not just declared. But I also believe in boundaries, and I want the love stories I write to honor the privacy of the characters and the comfort of the reader.

I think of my characters as friends. And honestly? They value their privacy. I wouldn’t fling open the curtains on my neighbor’s relationship—and I won’t do it to my characters, either.

More than that, I want to write books that feel safe to recommend.

I want someone to be able to hand one of my novels to a college student, a school teacher, a grandmother, or a brand-new book club made up of coworkers and neighbors—and not have to give a content warning or an apologetic caveat this is NSFW.

Yes, there is romance. There is desire. There is absolutely affection and attraction and that wonderful ache of being seen and chosen. But it’s told in a way that feels real, respectful, and readable in public.

What this means for book clubs

Book clubs are sacred spaces to me—whether they meet in a fellowship hall, a living room full of mismatched chairs, or a coffee shop on Thursday mornings. They’re spaces where we bring our whole selves—our stories, our questions, our hesitations—and we wrestle with what we’ve read in the context of our own lives.

I want my books to meet readers there.

I want a book club to know exactly what they’re getting when they choose one of my stories:

• Something layered but approachable

• Characters you’ll want to talk about like they’re real

• Romance that’s emotionally rich but closed-door

• Themes that span generations, choices, and the little moments that shape a life

• Language and scenes that don’t leave anyone feeling left out, embarrassed, or caught off guard
  
  

I write the kind of stories that leave room for conversation—across ages, experiences, and perspectives. The kind you can discuss over coffee in a public place and read on a plane without checking who’s peeking over your shoulder.

For the reader who values quiet strength and emotional depth

If you’ve ever wished for more meaning and less exposure, more truth and less spectacle, more depth and less distraction, my stories are for you.

Not because they avoid the hard stuff—but because they lean into the real stuff.

And because sometimes, the most powerful love stories happen behind closed doors...
...and around tables, in whispered prayers, and in knowing glances across a crowded room.

If you're part of a book club looking for emotionally rich, closed-door reads—I'd love to hear from you.