Laura MillerNational Bestselling Author - Laura Miller

Special Edition!

7/3/2019

Surprise! The Dream has a new, special edition cover! It's only in paperback and hardback, and I'm so excited to share it with you guys! The photo is by Ian Dooley, and I fell in love with it the moment I saw it! If you haven't yet, I hope you get a chance to pick up a copy of The Dream and take the journey with Delilah and Everton. This story strays a little from my usual small-town romances, but honestly, it's one of my favorites! ... Shhh. Don't tell the others! Hope you enjoy and happy reading! ♥Laura

Fourth of July Sale!

7/1/2019

All NINE of my e-books, including Pay It Forward, are only $1.99 for a limited time! If you don't already own them all, now is the time! Find them on Amazon!

Keep moving; keep doing what you love

6/24/2019

It's been 11 years since I wrote the first word to Will and Julia's story. I can't even believe it's been that long. I feel as if I can still remember every moment I spent scribbling down words onto Post-it notes. Smartphones, as we know them, didn't even exist, yet!

I wrote Butterfly Weeds, what would become my first novel, on my way to work, at work, on my way home from work, in the shower, in my sleep–pretty much anywhere and everywhere–but my favorite place to write was on a quiet, little piece of beach on Sullivan's Island. (Not bad, right?!) I had just moved to Charleston, South Carolina, and I hadn't found a newspaper job. I had been writing for newspapers since I was twelve. But at the time, the local paper had just laid off 20 people, and the business journal, where I would later work, was on a hiring freeze. In fact, ANY job was hard to find. It was 2008. I was fresh out of school, and I had found myself smack-dab in the face of an economic recession. It stunk. But that year also gave me Butterfly Weeds, and subsequently the rest of my stories. The thing is, I had started writing that first novel, in part, because I missed writing. So, just in case you need a reminder today: Keep moving. Keep doing what you love. Those dark days are preparing you for the light. ♥Laura

Be Someone's Hero

6/20/2019

Be someone’s hero. I truly believe a kind word can change a life! And today, I’m taking a stand against bullying with @augustethelabel in its new HERO charity tee.

This year, Auguste has partnered with the Cybersmile Foundation (@cybersmilefoundation) and the National Centre Against Bullying (@alannahmadeline) to support victims and create more positive communities, both online and offline. By purchasing a tee, you’ll be donating 100% of the price tag of that tee to the above charity partners! AND by wearing it, you’ll be saying: Kindness is the best language!

Be a hero in someone’s life! Visit @augustethelabel to purchase your HERO tee TODAY and take a stand against bullying!

#augusteagainstbullying #kindness #hero #bullyingisntcool #augustethelabel #spreadingkindness #changetheworld #someoneshero #changealife #bethechange #bethechange #besomeoneshero #bullying #letsdothis #payitforward #love #cybersmilefoundation

The Dream

6/11/2019

Just wanted to share this trailer of Daisy and Everton's story with you! If you haven't gotten a chance to check out The Dream, you can find it and all my books on Amazon. Happy Reading! ♥ Laura

By Way of Accident Anniversary!

5/14/2019

"This book is the place I go when I'm craving the feelings that summer brings, when I need something to remind me of the beauty of love."
~Inked Pages on By Way of Accident

I wrote River & Brooke’s story in 2014. It was my fourth novel. I can’t believe it’s already been 5 years! But their story is summer to me, too. ☀️ And if you haven’t already, I hope you get a chance to pick up a copy and enjoy! ❤️Laura

💛 Find By Way of Accident on Amazon.

Back cover summary:
They say in every guy’s life there’s a girl he’ll never forget and a summer where it all began. Well, for me, 1999 is that summer, and Brooke Sommerfield is that girl. But that was nearly nine years ago. And what they don’t tell ya is that you’ll blink, and both the summer and the girl will be gone.

📷: Aiony Haust

Pay It Forward

4/24/2019

Have you picked up your copy of Pay It Forward? You can find it in paperback and e-book on Amazon and in hardcover on Lulu!

Summary:
Nutsy the Squirrel needs help collecting nuts for the winter. Mama Bird can't find Baby Bird. Brown Cow's tail is stuck in the fence, and Scratch the Dog is lost! Who can help? And how will each repay the other? Follow these woodland and barnyard animals as they embark on an energetic and captivating journey of paying it forward through simple, everyday acts of kindness. And see how one, small deed can set off a chain of generosity that ultimately comes full circle.

No act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted.
-Aesop

Discussion Questions: The Dream

4/9/2019

READING GROUP GUIDE
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
The Dream

In the prologue, the narrator, Daisy, speaks about The Law of Our Firsts? Do you believe this law to be true?
If you were Everton, would you have heeded Daisy’s father’s warning and stayed away from Daisy altogether?
What did you think of the relationship between Daisy and her sisters? Can you relate?
If you were Everton, would you have “stayed in the truck”? If you were Daisy, would you have fought more for a relationship with Everton? Could they have made it?
What were your thoughts in Chapter 13 when Daisy sees Everton again after six years?
If you were Daisy, would you have continued to visit Everton in his office?
In the wedding chapter (Chapter 21), who do you believe Daisy is watching from her church pew in the back row? Whose wedding is she attending?
Do you believe Thomas Jefferson got it right? Do you believe that as we grow older, we love those most whom we loved first?
Do you agree with Daisy or do you believe there is a distinction between being in love and loving someone?
Did you catch on to the twist before it was revealed? If so, what tipped you off?
Looking back on The Dream, are there parts that pointed to the twist?
Do you believe that Daisy and Everton are happy in their current lives?
Do you see The Dream as having a happy ending?

River & Brooke

4/9/2019

I wrote River and Brooke’s story in 2014. It was my fourth novel. I can’t believe it’s already been 5 years! But their story is summer to me, too. And if you haven’t yet, I hope you get a chance to pick up a copy and enjoy! Find By Way of Accident on Amazon!

Photo credit: Cody Black

Back cover summary

They say in every guy’s life there’s a girl he’ll never forget and a summer where it all began. Well, for me, 1999 is that summer, and Brooke Sommerfield is that girl. But that was nearly nine years ago. And what they don’t tell ya is that you’ll blink, and both the summer and the girl will be gone.

The Dream Prologue!

4/2/2019

Thank you all for making The Dream's release day such a special day so far! I'm blown away by your kind words and support. Thank you especially for taking time out of your day to share, post and comment. And THANK YOU also for reading! I know there are so many wonderful stories out there. I'm so happy you've taken the journey with mine.

Everton and Daisy's story isn't my typical small-town romance, but it is a story that is close to my heart and filled with small-town life that comes with a twist. If you haven't already, I hope you get a chance to pick up a copy. And thank you, as always, for sharing your thoughts, reviews and comments. I will be forever grateful! P.S. Find The Dream now on Amazon and read the prologue, for the first time, below! ♥ Laura

prologue
-daisy-

When I was young, I’d spend my Sundays at Mrs. Helling’s house. She lived in a small brick home outside of a little town everyone else left decades ago. She was in her eighties, and she lived alone. Her husband, a World War II veteran, passed away five years before I was born. I knew him only from the photos that lined the walls of the little home. Most days, Mrs. Helling was self-sufficient. In fact, looking back, she seemed more like a woman in her sixties than eighties. But nevertheless, she did have those days where her knees just wouldn’t cooperate. So, every Sunday, my dad, my sister and I would tie up the loose ends by doing things like hanging her laundry and cutting her grass and dusting her collection of salt and pepper shakers.
I remember her being so proud of that collection. She had a pair of shakers from every state—“even Hawaii,” as she never failed to point out. I asked her one day if she had a favorite. Then I watched her carefully examine every pair before finally shaking her head and saying she couldn’t choose. But I did. My favorite was the set from South Carolina. They were little sea turtles with fanned-out flippers and sparkly, green heads. I was always extra careful with those.
Her family had gathered the shakers for her throughout her lifetime. By then, she didn’t have much family left, and her two children lived on either side of the country. She had never been to most of the places her salt and pepper shakers had, but she told the story of each set as if she had. She was my dad’s Sunday school teacher for the first ten years of his life. He wasn’t related to her, and he had no other connection to her except for those ten years, and of course, our meeting that one day a week. So, I never understood why he had the bond he did with her, until one day. We were hanging tan pantyhose and blue floral dresses onto the clothesline in her backyard when the thought came to me for the last time.
“Dad,” I asked.
“Yes, Daisy?”
“Why do we come here every Sunday?”
He could have said a list of things, I suppose. I expected him to say that we should love our neighbors as we love ourselves or that we’re supposed to help our elders because it’s the right thing to do. But he didn’t so much as mention either of those things, though his answer came just as quickly as if he had. In between my question and him picking up a pair of underwear and pinning it to the line, he said: “I think Thomas Jefferson said it best, Daisy. He said: ‘I find as I grow older ... that I love those most whom I loved first.’”
I remember he stopped then, rested his hands on his hips and stared at the freshly cut grass. “Daisy,” he then said, sucking in a thoughtful breath, “I’ve known Mrs. Helling for a long, long time now. And she’s still that same woman who always smelled like shortbread cookies and who taught me how to sing Jesus Loves Me and who stood in for Thomas Winters as a wise man in the Christmas play when he got stage fright real bad.”
I watched him carefully. It was almost as if he—or at least, his mind—had momentarily left me. And now, I was alone, standing beside two nylon legs desperately trying to tickle my arm in the gentle, summer breeze.
Then just like that, he came back to me, bending down and picking up another pair of pantyhose.
“You’ll understand someday, Daisy,” he said, pinning the hose to the line.
I hadn’t thought about that day in a long time. It took me hearing an old wives’ tale not too long ago to remind me of it again. It’s called the Law of Our Firsts, and it goes something like this: Our firsts will be our lasts. Like, our first words—they’ll also be our last words. For a few of us, it will be mom or dad. Some say it’s because we can see them at the very end, welcoming us home. Others say it’s because we’re searching for comfort in a time that’s wholly unfamiliar. For others, it will be words that describe our feelings, like happy or sad or hungry. Either way, despite all those words we crammed into our brains between birth and death, it seems only those very first ones truly matter.
The legend goes for our joys, as well. Those same wives say that some of the first moments that make us smile—like the day we brought home our first pet or that time we stayed up past our bedtime watching that old movie with grandpa. Those are the moments we’ll look back on most when we’re old and gray.
But with our joys, we’ll also have regrets. And oftentimes, those first ones have some staying power ... so they say. Not spending enough time with grandma or not telling that boy in the seventh grade you liked him, apparently, those moments—and not that we didn’t get into Yale—are the regrets that haunt us in our last days. You’d think we would have had enough time to reconcile those first setbacks. It is a lifetime, after all. But as it is, humans are infamous for choosing pain over freedom. So, it would stand to reason that it would take us every bit of a lifetime to bury just one regret. Humans.
And then there are our first loves. These same wives who believe in the strength of our first words and joys and regrets also believe that our first loves do a number on our hearts. Whether it be that first, fast car that was all ours or that boy who stole our heart that one summer before sophomore year, presumably, we’ll always be chasing that first taste of love—that first high. And no matter what we do to forget, cover and ignore their eternal flame, we somehow just can’t. Those first loves find a way to make us remember; they find a way to stay alive and relevant—even if it is just in our own minds. And before we know it, all their sharp edges have turned round, and their subtle ache feels like home.
So, that being said, I suppose I should tell you why I’m writing all this and why those Sundays from my youth, Thomas Jefferson and the Law of Our Firsts are close to my thoughts today. It’s because I have a confession.
My confession?
I love you.
It’s easy to admit that part. I’ve lived and breathed it for so long now; how could it not roll off my tongue with an ease that only comes with the truth?
What’s not so easy, however, is to form the words for this next part. In fact, it nearly crushes my soul—in an oddly familiar, comfortable kind of way.
I love you.
And I know it’s too late.