writing – Page 2 – Evelyn Klebert

The Story of Enid – Excerpt

June 19, 2025

I am very excited to announce that my new book, The Story of Enid: Vol. 2 of The Clandestine Exploits of a Werewolf, will be released at the beginning of July. And just as a little teaser, I am posting an excerpt from the book. I hope you enjoy. 🙂

The Story of Enid

What happens when your one true love reincarnates, and you just happen to be a werewolf?

Ethan Garraint is an old soul. He has been alive for hundreds of years, battling countless challenges and foes along the way. Not the least of which was living through the genocide of the Cathar people at Montsegur, a society that wholly embraced him despite his lycanthropic nature. But in Volume 2 of The Clandestine Exploits of a Werewolf, he faces a dilemma that brings his past and present full circle, merging them both.

In The Story of Enid, the sequel to The Broken Vow

Long ago, before he was Ethan Garraint, before the Cathars, before he became a werewolf, he was a man living in a land where enchantment ruled. He was a Knight known as Geraint who served a King. And it was then that he met the one woman who would own his heart.

“There was someone for you once.”

“Yes, a long time ago.”

“Someone very special to you that, I think, perhaps you still mourn.”

“She was my wife.”

“And she left you.”

“Not of her free will, but yes, most do.”

When one realizes that a long-lost soulmate has been reincarnated, it poses some complications. When you have been a werewolf for nearly a millennium, the complications explode exponentially. Ethan Garraint understands that he should stay far away from Erin Holt, but she is in his city, New Orleans, and possibly in danger. And the truth is, he doesn’t want to stay away. He only wants to remind her of the lifetime they lived long ago, when they were more than lovers, when they became legend.

Excerpt:

She stood across the room from him, face pale, greenish-brown eyes wide and unmistakably filled with fear, but fear of what exactly he could not discern at the moment.

“Erin.” Ethan stood up. Nearly imperceivably, and, no doubt, only caught by him because he was watching her so closely, she stepped backward a fraction of an inch. Ah, it was clear that she was fearful of him for some reason. Cautiously, he moved around the desk. She held her ground, though, still watching him with those enormous eyes filled with shadows. Once he reached her, he couldn’t stop himself from gently placing his hands on her arms. “What’s happened?”

She was breathing deeply. He could feel the rhythm in his skin, his blood. Strange how he was so connected to someone whose real flesh-and-blood company he’d actually spent so little time in. But then again, this was a spiritual connection, a fact that Brother Guidrade had so repeatedly drummed into his head. It defied logical sensibilities. It simply was.

And then she closed her eyes, sighing deeply and slumping forward a bit so that her head was resting on his chest in what he could only describe as emotional exhaustion. “It’s going to sound ridiculous.”

He pulled her closer into his arms, stroking her lovely auburn hair that he’d become so fond of. “Ridiculous things can have their moment,” then he added, “Tell me, Erin.” However, admittedly, he had that pesky precognitive sense that he already knew.

“It was a dream but a very realistic one,” again, a deep sigh that he was not comfortable with. The thought that their entanglement had become so burdensome to her weighed on him considerably.

She pulled her head up and looked into his eyes in a way that startled him, not fearful now, not tired, but seeking deeply. “You were in it.”

He let his hands drop. Why, he couldn’t say. Perhaps he was a coward. Maybe he’d idyllically hoped they could spend these few days together unencumbered by the truth. “And?” he said because he had no choice.

“There was something with you in the dream, a creature. Well, actually a kind of wolf.”

He bravely held her gaze, though now he understood her initial fear. “I see.”

“You said it was your constant companion.”

And then he smiled. He couldn’t help it. What a benign thing for him to say. “Well, what do you think, Erin?”

She looked confused, “What do I think?”

He stepped backward, leaning against the desk but still watching her closely. “Yes, sorry, what do you feel might be a better question.”

She crossed her arms in front of her. Though he had an inkling, she had no idea she’d done so. “I-I don’t know. It was just a dream. It doesn’t mean anything.”

He watched her closely, feeling the jagged nuances of what she was wrestling with. Her modern sensibilities told her to ignore what her genuine innate senses were telling her. It was somewhat painful to witness how the mores of a world determined to ignore the old ways ostensibly split its inhabitants apart. “Erin,” he spoke softly so as not to further agitate her. “I need you to stop and take a moment. Try to forget what you think you should say, and use your senses, your inner self. And tell me what you truly feel.”

Her eyes widened a bit in confusion. He felt the battle within her. When she was younger, when she had no sight, she was not under such scrutiny, such pressure to suppress her very real and tangible gifts. But once she gained her sight, she was forced or perhaps even forced herself to quickly conform to a world that gave no credence to such abilities. Essentially, she had buried part of herself.

“I-I don’t know.”

He frowned because that was not at all what he felt. She did indeed know but was afraid to say. He reached out and grabbed one of her hands, pulling her closer to him. “It’s all right,” he murmured. “You know, I was foolish to believe it would take a backseat and remain hidden from you.”

Hesitantly, she spoke, “It? What does that mean?”

“Dreams, you know, aren’t meaningless. The spirit within us takes flight in dreams, leaves behind our earthly form, and explores other dimensions and realities, revealing truths we cannot easily reach in the physical world.”

“Ethan, you’re scaring me.”

“You don’t have to be afraid, Erin. You just have to open your mind to other possibilities.” And then he squeezed the hand that he held in his own. “Now, tell me, my dearest one. What do you feel?”

She looked at him almost sadly, and it pierced his heart deeply in a way that he had not thought was still possible. How was it that she could so easily reach him when others were wholly incapable of breaching the ice built up around his emotions through centuries of his protracted existence? “You hold the key to each other, one that is unique and cannot be denied.” They were words from the Cathar Master, still so poignant and relevant now.

“I,” she stopped herself, so frightened of letting go.

And then he took the other hand in his, perhaps to give her strength, perhaps to provide him with some. “Yes,” he said softly.

“It’s real,” she murmured.

“Yes,” he repeated. He wasn’t looking at her. He was looking at those lovely, gentle hands he held clasped in his own.

“How can that be?”

And then he looked up into her beautiful eyes that seemed in this moment as though they would engulf him. “Well, it happened long ago when the world was still filled with magic and demons. Although it still is, though much better hidden, one might say.”

She shook her head, “I don’t understand.”

And then he laughed at the twisted sort of perversity of the moment. How did one deliver the news to his lover that he was not a man but a sort of devil? “I am a werewolf, Erin. It’s that simple.”

And then there was something else in her eyes, a fire that he remembered from long ago and was very glad to see in some respects. Very deliberately, she pulled her hands out of his grasp. At this moment, he realized this would be much more complicated than he had anticipated. “Ethan, that’s simply impossible.”

She realized, granted not for the first time, how she despised feeling as though she was not in control of things in her life, not in control of her decisions. It was a scar, she supposed, from that huge expanse of time when it felt like everyone else in the world was making decisions for her. That very frustration prompted her to get on that plane from Arkansas and come here alone to New Orleans. And that frustration was now pushing her to whole-heartedly reject this preposterous assertion that the man in front of her had just made.

Werewolf, indeed, did he think she was so naïve to swallow any ridiculous thing he might throw her way? Did he think she was so swept up in this romantic spell, this fog she’d seemed to be operating under, and simply embrace any laughable delusion he decided to feed her?

She didn’t stop to think that it indeed had been her dream.

She didn’t stop to think that the memories she’d recovered about their relationship before she regained her sight were in her head, her mind.

She was frustrated and, in a rage, born of a life that had left her largely powerless.

He hadn’t said anything. He was just looking at her, still casually leaning back against his desk. It reminded her of the first time she’d seen him in the French Quarter, watching her from across the street, with no expression, just waiting, waiting for what she couldn’t imagine.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?”

“What would you like me to say?” he responded rather flatly.

It felt a bit like a punch. She wasn’t at all sure what she’d expected but not this. “You do understand how ridiculous that sounds. Werewolves? They’re imaginary, made-up stories.”

“Old stories from long ago.”

“Yes,” she said a little shakily. It felt like she was losing ground, though she didn’t know why.

“Where do you think those stories come from? Those old legends?”

“So, I suppose you’re going to tell me vampires exist as well.”

“I spent a good amount of time with one when I was a priest at Chartres Cathedral in France.”

She took a quick breath that felt oddly painful. “What? When?”

He stood up straight but did not walk forward even an inch toward her. “It was around 1350.”

“1350? Do you really expect me to believe—” Then she stopped, almost choking on the words.

“Do I expect you to believe me? Evidently not, though I assure you that it is wholly and sadly the truth.”

“I-I can’t just accept this. I—” And then she felt the room begin to spin, actually quite purposefully spin all around her in a cataclysmic motion.

It made her feel sick. It made her want to drop to her knees, but somehow, somehow, she didn’t.

When it finally, thankfully, stopped, she was somewhere else. She was in another room, a cold room made of stone.

Research, Research, Research. . .

May 27, 2025

I’m sure writers find a thousand different methods and techniques to hone and develop their craft. I read once that Agatha Christie became somewhat of an expert in poisons. She served as a voluntary nurse during World War I, where she was stationed in a hospital dispensary. There, she studied under a pharmacist, a bit of an eccentric, who appeared as a thinly veiled character in one of her novels. But for her in her writing, research was essential.

In my case, many of my books are interjected with and explore metaphysical and esoteric philosophy, Research, I find, is key for me as well. Just to mention a few, Sanctuary of Echoes was heavily influenced by the writings of the Theosophist Annie Besant. The Broken Vow leaned heavily into the history and philosophy of the Cathars from the Languedoc Region of Southern France. Dumaine Street was shaped in part by the work of Charles Leadbeater in The Astral Plane.

Research and reading are essential components of writing for me. So, if you also have an interest or even a thirst for esoteric knowledge, I’d like to direct you to my publisher, Cornerstone Book Publishers, who happen to have a huge selection of classic New Age/Spiritual Books. More than once, I’ve tapped their inventory for inspiration. I encourage you to take a little time to drop by and check them out.

Cornerstone Book Publishers

Immortality – To Be or Not To Be?

April 30, 2025

Recently, I began to dig into editing revisions for the sequel to The Broken Vow. And, of course, in doing so, this led to a lot of reflections on my werewolf protagonist, Ethan Garraint, and the why of how he came to be.

Right after the resurgence of the vampire genre, or should I say reinventing of it, after the Twilight books by Stephenie Meyer, many paranormal writers were dipping their toes in the Twilight pool with either vampire or werewolf endeavors. I had already written several short stories involving the same werewolf character, so I decided to try my hand at a full novel.

Now, there were several problems I had jumping into the werewolf arena. One was that I wrestled with the issue of an immortal character. Immortality itself, I think, is a problematic trope. Ostensibly, the idea of living so long is sort of depressing with all your loved ones dying lifetime after lifetime. And there is also the problem of stagnancy. As a keen believer in esoteric philosophy, I have always believed that living is not without purpose. That everyone’s life is filled with lessons, obstacles, and experiences specifically tailored to them for the purpose of their spiritual evolution. So, the idea that someone could live thousands of years and not change did not seem viable.

And evolution, or rather what I’d term spiritual evolution, doesn’t take place on a time schedule. It takes place through experiences. In the novel, The Broken Vow, Etienne (renamed Ethan in subsequent years) encounters spiritual mentors in the Cathar people during his time with them at Montsegur in Southern France. Historically, Montségur fell to a siege and the Cathars a genocide led by Pope Innocent III during the Albigensian Crusade. But Etienne’s time with the Cathars, soaking in their esoteric philosophy, becomes pivotal in his evolution and key in the plot of that first book.

Another issue I had was that I wasn’t really interested as a writer in too deeply exploring the “werewolf” problem — the mechanics of the werewolf transformation. I was determined that the character in my books would have to be the key. Ethan Garraint had to be an interesting person who just happened to be a werewolf, not interesting because he was a werewolf. As far as I am concerned, being a werewolf is sort of like having a chronic illness or perhaps a peculiar talent; it’s just something you carry around with you.

So, the issues I was determined to sort out were how to make immortality engaging, showing growth with the character, and how not to have the werewolf aspect smother Ethan Garraint’s personality.

The seeds of the sequel to The Broken Vow were sowed long ago. It was actually a story for him that I’ve always had in mind. While The Broken Vow leans more in the direction of a paranormal thriller, the new book, The Story of Enid, is in many respects a paranormal romance. It involves themes of reincarnation and brings the idea of evolution and character growth up to close inspection. After all, how would you feel if you had to actually confront your younger self? Would that be a person you would even care to know? Something to ponder.

Well, back to work. My target date for publication of The Story of Enid is hopefully this summer. I’ll keep you posted.

The Broken Vow: Vol. I The Clandestine Exploits of a Werewolf

In the heart of every man there is a history. In the heart of every monster there is a story. In this first installment of “The Clandestine Exploits of a Werewolf,” Ethan Garraint is on a vendetta that begins in the heart of the Pyrenees with the fall of Montségur and leads him to the streets of New Orleans nearly five hundred years later. But the person he chases isn’t really a man anymore and Ethan has been a werewolf for almost a millennium. With the aid of a gifted seer, he is on a blood hunt that will culminate in a journey that crosses the line between heaven and earth and ends somewhere in between.

Cornerstone

Amazon

Excerpt

Finding Inspiration

April 2, 2025

I once read that Agatha Christie would leave notebooks all around her house in case a flash of inspiration came to her that she needed to write down. I keep a number of what are called “fat little notebooks” about and actually never leave without one in my purse in case I need to scribble something down. Sometimes, the name of a town, a street, or maybe a store we’re passing strikes me as unique.

I also take a lot of pictures, in fact, all the time. I suppose it might be irritating to some, perhaps, but I feel driven. A number of these, I’ve used in book trailers that I’ve been posting on my YouTube channel.

While I was in New Orleans, I was constantly taking pictures of houses, apartments, schools, and all kinds of places so I could pinpoint exactly where my characters lived their lives, where they walked and interacted. I also, particularly for Sanctuary of Echoes, had to figure out how the streetcar lines connected. In my mind, it was important for the teenagers in that book to be able to get from place to place.

Inspiration comes in all sorts of curious disguises. Right now, in the community I’m in, it’s apparent a great many people are anxious and upset about what is happening in the country. That changes the feel and complexion of a place, no matter how picturesque it might seem. And that is, in an overarching sense, seeds for writing.

It’s hard to say where inspiration might come from. It can be very small, like a streetlight on a foggy night, or very large, like the COVID epidemic and all its reverberations in people’s lives. It’s always there. You just have to keep your eyes open and be ready to see it.

Reflections (Scattered Poetry)

February 18, 2025

Time on the Edge

It seems I should be comfortable now,
Lying just so,
So precariously.
One false move,
Ouch, another cut.
Seems like I’m spending more time
Than I ought here.
Right here on the edge.
And so I breathe deeply,
And let it out in a sigh,
And let the fear and panic dissipate,
And the storm clouds go unacknowledged.
Taking a moment, a quiet one,
Here on the edge,
My time to ponder the “why” of it all.
Wonder “why” I keep coming back,
Back to the same spot.
What exactly was it I missed,
Last time around.
Eyes always fixed ahead,
On the next step,
on the time when everything is right again.
Although I never quite get it right,
What that time is supposed to look like.
So instead I’ll lean back,
And soak in the scenery,
Maybe pitch a small tent,
Build a campfire and take a long look around.
After all I wouldn’t keep coming back
If there wasn’t something here,
Something to see,
Something to know.
Or maybe just a moment to learn,
To learn to quiet my own heart.

Spending Time

Waiting
Waiting desperately
for change to come.
eyes fixed on a different time,
so cognizant of the anxiety of the present.
Waiting
Waiting for a painful stretch to end,
blinded by the anguish and uncertainty
of the moment.
Breathing deeply
and stopping thought
that breeds discord.
Stopping thought
and moving in the present,
quietly in each moment,
learning to live peacefully
in uncertainty.

A thousand years ago . . .

Is it a thousand years ago since I have seen your face?
And I have left what should be finished hanging in an uncertain place.
Is it so much time since we’ve expressed the truth?
My hope was to be closer to you
But it’s all fallen away.
I can’t believe you’ve left.
I expected the earth to cave into itself when you did.
But it was quiet, somber, silent perhaps.
And so gently, as was your soul.
The world since you’ve gone is perplexing to me.
We’ve all lost our center, our very gravity.
I couldn’t have imagined this place in your absence.
And while I know you’ve gone, moved onto new adventures,
In some ways it feels that you’re still here, waiting quietly,
To egg us on, to hold us close, to let us know you’ve never left.

Magic – An Excerpt from the Sanctuary of Echoes Audiobook

February 2, 2025

Below is an excerpt from my recent audiobook, Sanctuary of Echoes. This was posted on Cornerstone Book Publisher’s YouTube channel. I hope you enjoy.

Sanctuary of Echoes

Ghosts unacknowledged do not sleep.

Corey Knight has resigned herself to a quiet, reclusive life spent living out the rest of her days in her childhood home on the fringes of New Orleans’ French Quarter. But the unexpected specter of her deceased father plunges her into a mad quest for a missing supernatural weapon unearthed long ago. And unfortunately, her only ally is a lost love she once betrayed.

Iain Shaw returns to New Orleans, a city he abandoned a decade before while fleeing a devastating past. Here, he is forced to confront it again in the visage of the woman he once adored – one that he is now determined to get back at any cost.

Follow them both in a wild paranormal tale of discovery and redemption as they confront and unearth the echoes of a buried and unyielding truth that once tore them irreparably apart.

Sanctuary of Echoes at Audible

Finishing Out the Year

November 20, 2024

Well, now that we’re on the downside of this year I thought I’d write a blog to catch up on what I’m working on. It’s been an eventful year, a whole lot of ups and downs for so many people. And my circle has been no exception.

Primarily, I’m finishing up the audiobook of Sanctuary of Echoes. Unquestionably, this has been the longest audiobook I’ve ever recorded. But I have to say I’m pleased with the way it’s turning out. This book has always been one I’m very connected to. In some ways, it exudes the things I love most about New Orleans, particularly its atmosphere, its architecture, just the unique way of life that exists there and for me is unlike any other place.

If all goes well, I’ll send the files to Audible in a week or two and then hopefully it will be released before the end of the year or just at the beginning of next.

In addition, I’m saying goodbye to Kindle Vella, or rather it’s winding down. For those of you who are not aware Amazon decided to pull the plug on their experiment, and all Kindle Vella books, serial stories, will be pulled off the platform at the beginning of February. Where that leaves me is with several completed books needing editing, then publishing, and several uncompleted ones. So, my work is cut out for me. I just submitted my last episode to Vella this month. It was from the collection of short stories entitled “Mystical Diversions” and the completion of a tale called “Kylie” about a woman on the threshold of crossing over, and the adventures she has in transition, definitely bittersweet.

So, that wraps up things for me just now. And by the way, if you haven’t checked it out yet my publishers, Cornerstone Book Publishers is having a 40% OFF book sale until Nov. 28. Drop by and check out their wide collection. I enjoy foraging around the Spiritual/ New Age section, great inspiration for writing.

Take Care,
Sending everyone peace and best wishes during the holidays,
Evelyn

Cornerstone Book Publishers

End of Kindle Vella

October 30, 2024

Just a few days ago, I got an email from Amazon announcing that they were ending their Kindle Vella program. For those of you who don’t know about it, Kindle Vella was a platform for serial or episodic stories in which readers would pay to open new episodes.

I have spent a good amount of time publishing a number of stories on Kindle Vella, some of which I’ve completed and republished as books, including The Lady in the Blue Dress and Dumaine Street.

For me, my time at Kindle Vella was extremely helpful on a variety of levels. Writing on a tight schedule and juggling different stories at the same time stretched my abilities in a way that wasn’t always comfortable but extremely beneficial. Also, learning to master the pacing of episodic writing in terms of story structure I found sometimes challenging but also exciting.

All in all, I don’t believe my time there was wasted by any means. Some Kindle Vella writers have expressed a desire to migrate to other episodic story platforms and while at present I have no such plans, we’ll see what the future brings. I will keep you posted. At present I have three Kindle Vella stories that are incomplete on the platform. One is a collection of short stories, Mystical Diversions: Supernatural Tales of the Ouachita Mountains. I will be completing one short story in the collection before all the Kindle Vellas are pulled in February. The other two are The Vine: A Portent of Crows and An Unintended Witch. These two I will complete as novels on my own time.

I want to thank those who have supported my dive into the world of episodic storytelling with Kindle Vella, and I will keep you posted as to what the future brings.

Life Lessons of Writing in Different Mediums

June 5, 2022

I have a little writers’ club within my family, as every one of us is a published author, though granted, all working in different mediums. During our get-togethers/meetings, we often have long discussions about movies, television series, books, short stories, video game plots, limited series — pretty much everything under the sun that has to do with writing in some aspect. We analyze what works, what doesn’t, and what we can learn from it all.

And turning back the clock even a bit further, I used to appear in a number of stage plays while I was in college. During that time, I came home one summer and agreed to take part in a locally produced soap opera. It was the era of the over-the-top nighttime soap-operas like Dallas and Dynasty, so our little production on the local open channel was a bit of a parody of these sudsy offerings. What I did find interesting was that coming from a background of stage performing, it was important I adjust my acting and dial it down quite a bit for the subtlety of the small screen. On the stage, you are always encouraged to go bigger so the people in the back seats can see you, but the camera, being so close up, catches all the small nuances. And if you don’t adjust, you seem to be overacting.

Getting back to writing, just like acting, working in different mediums of writing demands its own rules. A short story is very concise and focused on perhaps one element of the narrative. A novel is a different beast, depending on its length. It can be very focused if short, though needing usually more complexity and more characters, and several threads or layers of plot — maybe more if an exceptional length. Now a book with intended sequels is really just a piece of a book, a part of an overarching narrative — big picture and little picture stuff. And of course, all of these loose rules are made to be reinvented and broken at times by a skilled writer.

In my writing, I’ve primarily come from a background of short stories and novels. Some of my novels are longer, but I would say predominantly on the shorter side. I usually have a plot worked out or at least the endgame of a book, though I have found some narratives like to take a twist and turn that is unexpected. I did write one series of books, The New Orleans Paranormal Mysteries that weren’t hard sequels as each book focused on a different character.

And this meandering brings me to my point — Kindle Vella. As you might know, the last three books I’ve been working on have been in the Kindle Vella medium, a sort of episodic/serial format. It is really up to the author how long the story goes on. For me, as I’ve said, I like to have an end game in mind. This format has brought its own “gifts” for me so to speak. As well as developing some narratives that needed to get jump-started it has also taught me patience. These stories I’ve found have to unfold at their own pace. Some episodes are character-driven, fleshing out that aspect of the narrative, and some plot-driven. There has been an interesting flow in writing this sort of episodic tale, definitely trying to always leave the reader with a reason to return as well as taking my time with developing the story without overstaying my welcome. It really has been a gift working in this medium. I suppose the old adage there are lessons in everything is true. I am about to begin the final arc in my paranormal romance, Dumaine Street. I confess, when I began, I couldn’t clearly see where this story was going but now, I see the path home. Of course, there are always opportunities for unexpected turns. And I, as well as the readers I hope, look forward to those.

Thanks for Listening,

Take Care,

Evelyn Klebert

Voices in her head, catastrophic emotions, hallucinations, Rebecca Wells is more than convinced that she is losing her mind. And as a last-ditch effort, she contacts a self-professed counselor who seems convinced that he can help. Gabriel Sutton has abandoned the world of medicine to navigate a realm filled with psychic phenomena. Diagnosing Becca with extreme empathic abilities, he struggles to help her stabilize her gifts while trying desperately not to fall in love with his patient.

Dumaine Street Link at Kindle Vella