Author: Lindsay Marie Miller

Awesome Indies: Jungle Eyes by Lindsay Marie Miller

Posted May 6, 2016 by Emily in Uncategorized / 0 Comments

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For more information, check out the Awesome Indies page

I’m so happy to welcome Lindsay Marie Miller back to Awesome Indies! You might remember her from her previous appearance promoting her book Emerald Green.  This book is a historical Romance, so a different genre. If that’s your thing, you should definitely check this out!

Awesome Indies: Jungle Eyes by Lindsay Marie MillerJungle Eyes by Lindsay Marie Miller
Series: Jungle Eyes #1
Published by Smashwords Edition on November 20th 2015
Buy on Amazon

In the spring of 1899, Henry Rochester boards a ship on the docks of New York Harbor and sets sail across the Atlantic. Desperately seeking freedom and adventure, Henry fails to anticipate the violent ocean storm that will destroy the ship, murder his fellow comrades, and leave him stranded on a deserted island. However, Henry is not alone in paradise, as a beautiful young woman, named Elaine, acquaints him with the enchanting, yet evil nature of the jungle. As the two quarrel, reconcile, and bond, love blossoms between them like an exotic wildflower. But when the tide turns, bringing an unescapable wave of danger with it, Henry and Elaine must face the callous brutality of the uninvited.

What was your favorite chapter (or part) to write and why?

The Epilogue. There is so much tension, emotion, and shock built into the ending of Jungle Eyes. While I was writing, I just couldn’t wait to get to that cliffhanger, because I knew how much it was going to affect me, even as the author. It’s a twist unlike any other I’ve ever had before, and I look forward to explaining it in the remaining novels of the trilogy.

What were you like in school?

Sometimes shy, sometimes loud. I could be bubbly and vivacious, outgoing even, but I was definitely the girl that always had her head in a book. I spent most of my time in the library.

What was your favorite subject in school?

English. My eighth and ninth grade teacher really had a love for fiction and a love of short stories. I think he was one of the first people to open my eyes to the magic of losing yourself in a fantasy and really giving up your mind to the words on the page. His classes were always the best.

Can you share a little of your current work with us?

IÂ’d love to. HereÂ’s an excerpt from HenryÂ’s unexpected arrival on the island in Jungle Eyes:

One day, when the sun was preparing to center itself in the sky, Henry felt still, peaceful somehow, as if the water had stopped moving him. Henry slowly opened his eyes to find himself lying on his stomach, his hands pressed into the sandy shore beneath him.

He moved his fingers, and as they dug into the damp ground, his face lifted. Holding that small clump of wet sand in the air caused Henry to look forward, where he discovered a tropical island in the midst of the sea.

In astonishment, Henry staggered to his feet, not minding the waves that still flowed against the back of his knees. Pushing the hair from his face, Henry crawled towards the lush paradise, finding it hard to move on such weak muscles. His mouth hung open, so full of hunger and thirst that he yelped in delight once he discovered a table of food, covered with exotic fruits, leafy vegetables, and fine grains.

There was a small wooden shack, just bordering the area where Henry ate like a mad man, shoving as much sustenance as he could into his mouth at once. He closed his eyes, taking a thankful breath, as he had never felt so grateful for food in his entire life.

Except for the small shack and table where Henry had found the food, the rest of the land remained a tropical beach. From what Henry had noticed so far, a forest began where the sand ended, and if he were to walk deeper, he might find running water.

Taking one last piece of fruit, Henry stepped towards the shack, whose door frame was covered only by a transparent sheet of white fabric. He moved closer, for behind the cloth he saw a young woman sleeping, her body outstretched on a small rectangular section of bedding against the wall.

He took another step, only to make out the image of her face, framed in a glossy mane of raven black hair. However, with that step, a deep, haunting growl sounded from the border of the jungle. Just as quickly as Henry had shifted his eyes to observe the noise, a black panther, long and sleek, emerged from the woods. Fearless, the creature soared through the air and pounced on top of Henry. Before he could understand what was happening, the snarling black cat held an enormous paw over him, and then swiped its claws across his chest.

Henry wailed in panic and terror, using his arms to push the cat off him, as it pinned him to the ground by the flat of his back. The creature clawed at Henry’s stomach in protest, while the young man did the best he could to protect his face.

During the struggle, Henry had never felt so near the bottom of the food chain in all his life. He was paralyzed with fear as the great cat hovered over his body, with such a close distance that no human ever lived to talk about. But what terrified Henry the most, above the shiny, slimy white fangs, were the panther’s piercing green eyes, so alive with the greenery of the forest, that they could have been cut from the leaves of a vine for all he knew. They were so perfectly round and rigid, that they nearly looked like stones, though not the exact color of emerald. And yet it was these cat’s eyes, those jungle eyes, which made his heart stop.

“Jade,” a soft, transcendent voice called from above. The cat retreated immediately, slowly walking away from Henry.

Sunlight shone on Henry’s face as he lay flat, still on the ground. He lowered his eyes, horrified by the blood stains on his white ocean-soaked shirt. But then, the face of a lovely woman stood before the sun, blocking out its light. Henry looked up at her, taking in the long, silky black hair; golden, sun-kissed skin; and green eyes – so much like the jungle he had just discovered.

She narrowed her eyes, looking over Henry’s body as he felt her pulling him into a trance, mesmerizing him with her beauty. Then, for he had not seen it coming, Henry felt a tremendous pain enter the side of his head. All of a sudden, he noticed an object in her hand that she had just bludgeoned him with. But before the blue sky faded to black, the last thing Henry remembered was the natural hue of her glistening green jungle eyes.

Do you have a set writing schedule that you adhere to? / Tell us how you write

As often as I can, as much as I can. Usually at night, but all throughout the day, too. Essentially, if I’m not eating or sleeping, there is a pen in my hand.

Tell us about your book.

Jungle Eyes is the tale of Henry Rochester, a twenty-five-year-old New Yorker stranded on a deserted island in the year 1899 with a beautiful stranger. It’s a period romance dependent upon extreme circumstances. I haven’t had an idea like it before or since.

Was this book inspired by something in particular?

A combination of things. Visually, the island is inspired by Katy’s Perry music video for “Roar” and the Blue Lagoon films. I wanted to write about a jungle where the most beautiful creatures are lurking, yet what seems like paradise can turn deadly in a matter of seconds. It was thrilling, because I had yet to have any of my characters experience this kind of danger before. But I loved every minute that I got to spend in the jungle.

How do you relax?

Binge-watching The Fall or Miami Vice. I don’t really get the chance to watch much TV, but when I do, I make the most of it.

What is your favorite movie?

Gone with the Wind. My grandmother can take credit for that one. When I was a child, I would have sleepovers with my younger cousins at her house. Those were the best nights ever, because she would let us stay up late, eat frozen pizza, and watch Rhett Butler. It was like a dream.

How can readers discover more about you and you work?

To learn more about me and my work, you can check out this cool interview that I did over the holidays. I talk about writing, true love, my Johnny Depp obsession, and how Twilight first inspired me to pick up the pen. Watch here: Lindsay Marie Miller Author Interview

Connect with Lindsay Marie Miller

Twitter / Facebook / Goodreads / Amazon / Smashwords

Buy Jungle Eyes

Amazon / Amazon UK / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Smashwords



Awesome Indies: Emerald Green by Lindsay Marie Miller

Posted November 27, 2015 by Emily in Awesome Indie / 1 Comment

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For more information, check out the Awesome Indies page

Awesome Indies: Emerald Green by Lindsay Marie MillerEmerald Green by Lindsay Marie Miller
Series: Emerald Green #1
on July 31st, 2015
Genres: romance, suspense
Pages: 414
Buy on Amazon

On a chilly December night in Savannah, Georgia, seventeen-year-old Addie Smith dreams of an alluring young man, too mysteriously handsome to be real. When spring semester commences the following week, at Maple Creek High, a new student, named Tom Sutton, arrives, bearing a striking resemblance to the beautiful stranger from AddieÂ’s dream. Addie feels inextricably drawn to Tom, and his rare, unwavering resiliency, as the enchanting nature of first love takes hold. But when a cold-blooded criminal returns to Savannah, in pursuit of a long-forgotten possession, Addie must confront the darkest secrets of an elusive, hidden past that threaten to destroy her future.

I love the chance to feature the first chapter of a book! Its like a sneak peek.  I think this one really sets the tone for this book. I sure want to know what happens next! This one should pique your interest and make you wish for more.

Chapter 1

I stepped out into the cold, dark night, searching for a familiar face in the parking lot. With a crumpled fold of white chiffon in my hand, I gently shut the car door, wondering why Eric was nowhere to be found. Locking my silver Volkswagen Beetle with the push of a button, I glided across the black pavement. The incessant clicking of my heels against the ground made me even more aware of my presence in a formal white gown.

The Winter Ball had never been my idea, but Eric had insisted, since his antiquated high school did not host dances. Maple Creek High, on the other hand, had no problem renting a Hilton hotel ballroom for the evening. With the rate of tuition increasing every year, the PTA felt no remorse in demanding what they wanted.

Inside the ballroom, a cluster of students migrated towards the center of the dance floor. Teenage boys jostled into each other, too distracted by the cleavage-baring dresses worn by their teasing girlfriends. Junior quarterback, Ricky Travis, danced at the front of the crowd with his very own Barbie doll, Nicki Caldwell.

Nicki wore an ocean blue dress with aquamarine jewels scattered along the neckline, though she looked more like a mermaid than a princess. Her white blonde curls were stacked atop her head, clasped together with a lavender seashell clip, while a string of pearls clung to either of her small, bony wrists. Even in December, Nicki was ready for the beach.

To achieve her picture-perfect appearance, Nicki frequented salons on a weekly basis, where she allowed beauticians to bleach her hair, burn her skin, and coat her nails with a new shade of candy-colored polish. Once the tanning process was complete, Nicki laid down ample amounts of cold, hard cash, so that a professional could wax the places on her body where she had rather not have hair. And yet, Ricky pressed his body against hers, wrapping his arms around her stomach, as if she had woken up like this.

I could not help but roll my eyes.

Ricky Travis had spent the past two years tugging at my hair in math class. Somehow, every semester, at least one teacher’s seating chart always indicated that Ricky would be sitting in the seat directly behind mine. If I ever turned around, Ricky would let go of my hair, holding his hands in the air as if he were an innocent man. “I didn’t do anything,” he would smugly remark, his thin lips held apart.

The truth is, I had developed a crush on Ricky at the start of freshman year, when we all began taking classes at Maple Creek High. He was tall, dark, handsome, and athletic. But it only took two weeks for me to discover his wicked ways.

I sauntered around the edge of the dance floor and removed the cream-colored coat from my shoulders. No one stood at the punch table, so I poured myself a drink. The cherry flavored liquid felt pungent on my tongue, as I shriveled my face in disgust. When I looked up, a young girl approached, who could have been no older than fifteen.

“Ricky poisoned it,” the girl said. Her black bob slightly bounced as she spoke.

“What?” I set the plastic cup down on the table, carefully looking her over.

“I mean with alcohol.” She shrugged her shoulders, then turned towards the dance floor to look at Ricky. “He’s my brother.”

“Oh.” I raised my eyebrows, then placed a hand at my waist. “My condolences.”

The girl laughed at my snide remark, drawing attention to her doll-like figure. “I’m Jeanine.” She stuck her small hand forward, shaking mine. “And you’re Addie Smith.”

“Yes.” I nodded. “How do you know my name?”

“Ricky.” She pointed over her shoulder, while her older brother gyrated against Nicki’s tight-skirted bottom. “He talks about you all the time.”

“Really?” I caught Ricky’s eye across the dance floor. He froze in place, then passed Nicki off to another football player, as the next techno-pop song began.

“I better go.” Jeanine grew stoic and frightened. Her red lips looked as though they were quivering. “Don’t tell him what I told you.”

“All right.” I watched her scamper away, not understanding our brief, yet telling conversation. When Ricky approached, I turned my back to him, studying the punch bowl before me.

“Hello Addie,” Ricky murmured. I could feel his breath at the back of my neck.

I turned to face him. “What do you want?” I pressed my palm into his chest, pushing him away. Ricky leaned against the punch table, reclining on his elbows.

“Just to tell you how beautiful you look tonight.” Ricky pulled at my hair. I slapped his hand away, sighing in frustration. Nicki walked up to me, the hatred evident in her eyes.

I looked at Ricky, then grabbed the folds of my white gown. “You’re ridiculous.” I stormed off, in search of the bathroom, leaving Nicki to contemplate the behavior of her boyfriend.

On my way down a long corridor, I heard the sound of someone crying. Jeanine sat in the hallway, with her back against the wall. Her bright red party dress fell in ruffled folds, just above the knee.

“Jeanine, what’s wrong?” I knelt down beside her, not minding that I might stain my white dress.

“Can you drive me home? Please! I don’t want to go home with Ricky.” Heavy tears streamed down her face, pulling streaks of black mascara with them.

“All right,” I succumbed, resting my hand on her shoulder. “You’re a freshman aren’t you?”

“Yes.” She nodded.

“And we had a class together?” I squinted my eyes in a questioning manner.

“Study hall,” she whimpered, unable to look me in the eye.

I took a deep breath, blowing hot air through my teeth. “Wait here, I’ll find the back door to this place.” I rose, slipping back into my winter coat.

“Addie, thank you,” she whispered, choking on her own tears. “And I’m sorry I ruined your night.”

“It’s all right, honey. My date didn’t show anyway.” I patted her on the shoulder before walking off.

I turned at the end of the hallway, noticing a red EXIT sign above a door. I pushed the door open and climbed three flights of stairs, before reaching an old wooden door at the top. Turning the tarnished metal knob, I crossed the threshold and found a dark, empty room.

“Hello,” I called out, stepping forward. But as I let go of the heavy door, it swung back into the door frame, slamming in place. I twisted the doorknob, frowning at its immobility. The door was locked.

“Hello.” I banged my fist against the door, yelling for help. “Jeanine!” But she wasn’t going to hear me. I had left her in the hallway three floors below.

After fifteen minutes of hollering, I set my purse down and removed the thick warm coat that hung over my gown. The room smelled of dust and sweat. I wondered why the hotel had yet to remodel it, as renovations had been completed on the rest of the building just before the Winter Ball date had been set.

All was dark in the room, except for a small, square window that revealed a sliver of moonlight, which shone down on the floor below. I stepped into the pale white light and watched the half-moon hang in the black sky. A translucent layer of dense fog surrounded the moon, drawing further attention to its true silvery radiance.

“Addie,” a strange voice said. I felt a cool hand touch the bare skin of my shoulder. My heart thumped loudly inside of my chest as I swallowed, too terrified to turn around. Lifting my eyes to the window, I spotted his reflection in the glass. His black, neatly cropped hair looked like Ricky’s, though not exactly. Unable to resist my fear any longer, I turned around. The man who stood before me was not Ricky.

“Hello.” He smiled, standing much closer than I would have liked. A pair of straight white teeth glimmered in the moonlight as I recoiled, pressing my body into the window. Privy to my fear, he held his hands up in innocence and backed away from me.

Breathing heavily, I closed my eyes, and then opened them again, only to find him staring at the stretch of wall beside me. He kept still, letting his arms hang down at his sides, as I took a step towards him. Once I followed his gaze, I realized that he was not staring at the wall, but at the painting that hung there.

It was a portrait of a young woman, no more than eighteen. She sat still in the moonlight, gently holding her palms together, over her lap. Long thick locks of golden blonde hair framed her face and fell to the middle of her back. The hair was silky, wavy, and looked as though it had been fashioned from an angelÂ’s wings.

The womanÂ’s frame appeared thin, fragile even, yet her complexion was less fair than one would have imagined, presumably from hours spent beneath the summer sun.

Though of all her soft, gentle features, the most remarkable was the magic, liquid luster of her emerald green eyes. She was beautiful.

“You remind me so much of her,” he whispered in the darkness.

A white satin gown was draped over her shoulders, flowing around the rest of her slim body. I looked down at my own dress, unable to deny the similarities. The hair. The eyes. The skin. It was all the same. If not for the emerald stone around her neck, I would have thought I was looking in a mirror.

“Who is she?” I extended my hand, moving close enough to touch the portrait. But before my finger could trace the stone, all of it disappeared.


I woke in the darkness, lying on a bed of white sheets. Recognizing my bedroom, I turned to the lamp on my nightstand and switched it on. The clock by my bed indicated that it was three oÂ’clock in the morning. I pulled the sheet back, sank my feet into the carpet, and lost my balance. Stumbling to the wooden chair near the window, I found my white formal gown and winter coat that lay draped over the seat. For the life of me, I could not remember putting them there.

I thought about the strange dream. The boy seemed familiar to me, somehow. He had jet black hair and a tall, muscular build, like Ricky. Yet, there was something different about the two of them. Both had brown eyes, but they were not quite the same. RickyÂ’s eyes had always been a strange mixture of red and brown, like the color of a maple leaf. But the boy, the stranger, his eyes were golden brown, almost the shade of honey, with flecks of yellow sprinkled throughout.

I spent the next several nights sketching the boyÂ’s eyes. I started with a thin gray pencil to outline the shape of them. Then, I filled the pupils with black before coloring the irises with a blend of orange, yellow, and brown. By the time I was finished, the eyes reminded me of autumn, when all the leaves begin to change in color and hue.

I looked out at the tree that stood before my bedroom window. All of the leaves were gone.

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