Welcome Today's Featured Author
Synopsis:
Finley
O'Connell is a shy, reserved college student, who has no intention of
ever trusting another man. At nineteen, Finley spends her Friday
nights alone, studying clinical psychology to ease her mind of the
abusive childhood she has yet to overcome. Her new professor, the
young, charismatic Cabel Jones, begins to take an interest in Finley,
whose first instinct is to run. But when an ordinary experiment turns
to bloodshed, Finley must rely on Cabel, as the two hide away in a
rustic, secluded cabin in the wilderness. Plagued by deception and
fear, Finley soon finds herself in the arms of the one man on campus
who can never truly be hers.
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Links:
Smashwords:
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/583385
Also
available on iBooks
Me
& Mr. Jones
Teaser/Excerpt:
Chapter
1
I saw him
before he saw me. It was cold, wet, winter, actually, and I’d come
to campus without a jacket or umbrella. He walked with a smoother
stride than I ever had, up ahead on the brick pathway leading to the
dining hall. It was college, so I could care less who saw me staring.
There were too many people around for just one to remember.
Looking down at
my sneakers, I followed the pathway, already embarrassed by the
squishing sound I knew they would make once I entered the classroom.
It was the first day of class since winter break. And even though I
already had one semester under my belt, it felt like a curse to still
be considered a freshman.
I had finally
declared a major: Psychology. But once I learned of the experiments
that we would have to not only conduct, but participate in, my
introverted nature began to cringe. I was blatantly shy, and happily
so, though the subtlest bit of focus in my direction made my cheeks
blush scarlet red. It tended to bring attention to the sparsely
scattered freckles at the apples of my cheeks and along the bridge of
my nose. They matched the dark brown hue of my hair and eyes, no
matter how finite the tiny dots seemed.
After
sidestepping a few mud puddles, I looked up, and he was gone. I felt
a strange surge of disappointment overwhelm me. Though I had lost
nothing, it somehow felt that way.
In a hurry to
make it to class on time, I skidded along the last section of the
brick walkway leading to the psychology department. As I fell to the
slick ground, the $200 textbook, that I had been nestling beneath my
arms, slipped out from under them and came crashing down, into a
soupy puddle of mud.
“NO!” I
yelled aloud, devastated. All I could think about was that book.
Already on my
knees, I leaned over the wet pool of rainwater and picked the book up
by the edge of its front cover, because that was the only way I could
manage to grasp it. But the book was too heavy to lift by its front
cover, so the hardbound text slid from my fingers once again,
returning to the puddle with a loud, offensive splash that coated my
face with dark, tepid rainwater.
“You need
some help?”
Just as I began
to wipe the water from my face, I looked up, and there he was. The
same tall, blonde, blue-eyed image of the perfect golden boy. He must
have been a senior. I could tell that much from the mature bone
structure of his face. He certainly didn’t look eighteen.
“No, I’m
fine,” I murmured. My cheeks should have turned scarlet by now,
surely, if not for the murky puddle drops on my face. Of all the days
I had chosen not to bring an umbrella.
“Freshman?”
He squatted down before me, balancing himself around the perimeter of
the puddle.
“Yeah,” I
admitted, quickly averting my eyes from his.
He was dressed
in formal clothing: a pale blue button-down shirt and navy slacks. I
imagined him on the set of a fragrance commercial for Ralph Lauren,
riding horses and drinking champagne. I watched him curiously, when
he unbuttoned the sleeve around his right wrist and rolled the
material up to his elbow.
He looked like
he had lived in California.
He looked like
he had been lifting very heavy weights.
He looked like
he had outgrown this place a long time ago.
So what was he
doing here?
Without a
second’s hesitation, he stuck his hand into the filthy water and
grabbed my textbook. I snapped out of my daydream, practically in a
daze when he motioned for me to follow him under the shelter that
extended outward from the entrance to the psychology building.
“Open your
bag,” he requested, pointing to the satchel over my shoulder. Once
I did, he removed a brand new psychology textbook from the backpack
he was carrying and placed it in my bag.
“What are
you-?” I stopped myself at the sight of him shaking out my filthy,
wet textbook under the dry shelter.
“You use
mine, and I’ll use yours,” he offered, cracking a crooked smile.
I shook my head in confusion, distracted by the crystal clear look of
his blue eyes. They managed to reflect the tiniest bit of light,
despite the lack of sun.
“But I-”
“You could
just say thank you,” he boldly suggested. I wasn’t used to this.
“Thank you.”
I glanced down at the shiny new textbook in my bag, still in
disbelief. He smiled, then walked towards the entrance to the
psychology department. “Wait,” I called, relieved when he stopped
and looked back at me. “You’re not a freshman. Are you?”
“No,” he
answered, holding my gaze, “I’m not.”
“Well,” I
stalled, thinking of something else to say. I didn’t want the
conversation to end. “Why are you so dressed up?”
“I have a
presentation,” he said. His tone remained somber, professional
even, despite the slightest hint of a playful smirk at the corner of
his mouth. I wondered how often he looked at other girls like that.
“Oh,” was
all I could manage. I glanced down at his shiny black dress shoes,
doubting that they would squeak as loudly as my sneakers would once I
entered the building. “Well, good luck.” I gazed into his
beautiful, clear, liquid blue eyes and admired the seamlessly
sculptured face around them, in case I should never see him again.
Surely, fate couldn’t be so cruel, after being so kind.
“You too,”
he replied, before opening the glass door and stepping inside.
Once the image
of him had vanished, I entered the building in search of a bathroom.
Fortunately, I was able to dry off in there with no one else gawking
at me. All the stalls were empty, and I was the only one at the
sinks.
My first class
was on the fourth floor, so I headed upstairs in search of room 481.
When I reached that level, I found the classroom just around the
corner, at the end of the hallway. Anxious with the first-day-back
jitters, I opened the door and hurried inside. As the door slammed
shut behind me, I noticed that I had come through the front entrance
of the classroom, which meant that over a hundred people were now
staring at me.
Thankfully, the
classroom floor was covered in dingy, gray carpet, so my shoes didn’t
squeak as I searched for a seat among the crowd. There were only
three seats left in the entire room, all of which were located on the
front row, since that was the last place most students wanted to sit
on a voluntary basis. Satisfied enough, I selected the seat in the
middle and sat down between the only two chairs that remained vacant.
Maybe I wouldn’t have to make small talk with anyone this semester,
so long as the empty seats remained empty. Just as I removed the
textbook from my satchel and placed it on my desk, the thought
vanished.
“Oh, did you
get the book already?” a candid, feminine voice wondered. I looked
up to find that the girl sitting to the left of the empty seat beside
me had leaned over in curiosity.
She had a small
face, green eyes, and a pile of light brown hair that she had pulled
back into a messy ponytail. The ends of her hair looked a little
damp, not unlike the collection of water spots on her t-shirt that
appeared to be in the process of drying. I assumed that she must have
forgotten an umbrella as well and immediately sought her ought as an
ally.
“Yeah.” I
smiled, making my best attempt at polite conversation.
“Can I look
at it?”
“Sure.” I
handed the heavy book to her. It was a fifth edition clinical
psychology textbook, complete with diagrams and pull-out charts for
studying.
“I heard it
was really expensive.” She flipped through the pages, briefly
stopping when she came across a full color picture of Sigmund Freud.
“How much did you get it for?”
“About two
hundred,” I replied, wondering if that was the actual price he had
paid for it.
“That’s
ridiculous,” she huffed. “I’m not paying that!”
I forced a
laugh, only to be nice, really. Once our conversation ended, all was
quiet again, so I turned around in my chair to search the classroom
for familiar faces. I did not recognize a single soul.
When the door
clicked open, I looked back to watch another student enter the
classroom. A teenage boy with big glasses, dish water blonde tresses,
and a sloppy posture walked in and sat down in the empty seat to my
right. He kept his gaze down to avoid all eye contact, probably just
as nervous as the rest of us were for the new semester.
Just as the
door was about to swing shut, a dark shoe wedged its way through,
catching the bottom of the door before it could close. When the door
opened, I widened my eyes in surprise. I never would have dreamed
that he would be standing in the doorway. Cool and confident, the
golden boy entered the classroom, gracing me with his presence for
the second time today. I immediately straightened up in my chair,
anxiously anticipating him. The only remaining seat was the one next
to mine, and I knew he would have to take it.
I cocked my
head to the side when his feet moved in an unexpected direction, and
he set his backpack down on the large desk at the front of the
classroom. What was he doing?
Noticing me in
the front row, he smiled in my direction, his blue eyes twinkling
with delight. Before I could comprehend what was going on, he opened
his mouth and began.
“Hey guys,”
he greeted, waving a strong, manly hand in the air. “Welcome back.
My name is Cabel Jones, and I’ll be your instructor for this
course. Any questions before we get started today?”
About Lindsay Marie Miller:
Lindsay
Marie Miller was born and raised in Tallahassee, FL, where she
graduated from high school as Valedictorian. Afterwards, Lindsay
attended Florida State University and graduated Summa Cum Laude with
an English Literature major, Psychology minor, and Specialized
Studies in Markets and Institutions. Lindsay
is the author of the romance novels: Jungle
Eyes,
Me
& Mr. Jones,
and Emerald
Green.
Jungle
Eyes is
the beginning of a new romantic action/adventure trilogy.
Emerald Green
is the first installment in a four-part series of Young Adult
romantic thrillers. And the New Adult romantic thriller, Me
& Mr. Jones,
will be accompanied by a sequel. In her free time, Lindsay enjoys
singing, playing the piano and guitar, and writing songs. The author
resides in her hometown of Tallahassee, FL, where she is currently
working on her next novel.
Contact
Links:
Twitter:
@Lindsay_MMiller
Interview with Lindsay Marie Miller:
- Can you tell us a little about your books?
Me & Mr. Jones is a New Adult Romantic Thriller about college student, Finley
O’Connell, and her new psychology professor, Cabel Jones. Danger forces them
into an uncompromising situation, which only causes their forbidden romance to
become all the more tempting. My debut novel, Emerald Green, is a Young Adult Romantic Thriller about high school
juniors, Addie Smith and Tom Sutton. As Addie discovers secrets about her past,
Tom becomes the literal man of her dreams, while they both face a criminal and
his cruel, apathetic demands. My latest novel, Jungle Eyes, is also a romance novel, though the plot encompasses
moments more action/adventure than strictly thriller/suspense. Jungle Eyes is set on a deserted
tropical island in the year 1899, where Henry Rochester finds himself stranded alongside
a beautiful stranger.
- What inspires you to write?
When I was in high school, books were my safe haven, at a time
when I never felt like I fit in. Every time I write, I think about all the young
girls in high school now, who are stumbling through adolescence (as everyone
does) and feeling much of the same. My novels are a way of paying it forward.
Because I can remember what it felt like to go to prom without a date, and then
dream about meeting a boy like Edward Cullen at night.
- Do you have a favorite spot to write?
My bedroom, sometimes on the laptop at my desk, sometimes in my
bed with a pen and notebook in my hand. It depends on the mood I’m in, but
those are typically the best places.
- If you could spend 24 hours as a fictional character, who would you chose?
Scarlett O’Hara. She’s just so strong-willed and feisty, even mean
when she feels that she has to be. But she’s still an incredibly perseverant
woman, who will do whatever it takes to hold what she loves together. Those
Civil War Era dresses are absolutely breathtaking too. I would love to prance
around in one of those for a day, without the restrictive corset, of course. Plus, I
think I could get used to being married to Rhett Butler.
- Do you work with an outline, or just write?
When a new book idea first comes to me, I’ll write out little
notes of where I see the novel going from start to finish, just so I don’t
forget those main ideas when I get to them later. As far as day to day writing
goes, I normally just pick up from where I left off the day before.
- Do you listen to music while you write?
A lot of the time I do. It’s not something that I must have
playing in order to write, but it can certainly set the mood for a scene I’m
working on. When I was writing Me &
Mr. Jones, I listened to nothing but Ed Sheeran on repeat. Now, if I ever
hear him on the radio, I remember those nights when I stayed up late writing
about Cabel and Finley.
- What's one random fact about yourself that you can share?
I’m also a singer-songwriter. I started playing the piano when I
was a kid, and then took up guitar by the time I was twelve. That’s when I
started writing songs, and since then it’s always been something I’ve just done
for fun. I would like to record an album one day, but I’ve got some more books
to finish first.
- What are you working on next?
The follow-up novels to Me & Mr. Jones, Emerald
Green, and Jungle Eyes. I’ve also recently started
working on a New Adult Contemporary Romance Stand-Alone that I’m very excited about. 2016
is going to be a very busy year…
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