Wednesday, April 19, 2017

Author Mareta L. Miller

When I saw Mareta's posts on some author pages, I thought "She's familiar!". Turns out she's a long time friend of my friend's sister and we hung out a few times in the past.  Sometimes, Las Vegas can be a very small town.  I'm so excited for her and her writing! She's full of personality and heart!

I’m not a world traveler, in fact, I’ve never been more than a few miles past the boarders of Canada and Mexico, and I was so young that I hardly remember either of them. But I have traveled. My stepdad loved to take road trips and I’ve probably taken at least a pit stop or two in almost two-thirds of the continental United states. I actually just pulled out a map and took count, ha-ha.
As an adult I’ve enjoyed being able to plan my own trips, staying long enough to take in the sights, mingle with the people, and make memories with my family. From the island of Maui, where I married my husband, to Boston, MA where we visited his home town, I’m just in awe as to what our country has to show us and there are so many more places I can’t wait to visit. But this is about my favorite of them all and it’s not as obvious as it may seem.
It’s a tossup really. Both of my favorite places have so many similarities, and almost three-thousand miles of highway connecting them. I’m referring to Seattle, WA and Boston, MA. If you gave me an opportunity to visit either again and I’d jump at the chance, but… just as the characters in my first book, Telling Me with Roses, would say, I found love in Boston.
My first trip there was only for three days to celebrate my father-n-laws seventieth birthday in 2012, but it had me convinced that I’d sell my house and uproot my kids in a heartbeat to move there and that was during the winter. My husband and the cost of living decided against me, so I decided that if I couldn’t live there, that’s where Derick and Julia’s love story would play out. I’d live vicariously through them, taking them to places I’d gone and, through the great powers of the internet, find others that would be theirs for me to visit the next time I went.
If you’ve ever been to Boston, you know that it’s a place of history and architecture with amazing structures dating from before the days of Paul Revere but it doesn’t stop there. In as little as twenty minutes up to a couple hours’ drive, you can visit the home of John Quincy Adams or walk the cobble stone streets of Salem with the witches. I also love the town of Plymouth, where I can walk along the shops or barefoot along the seashore until the tide comes in. I always take a moment to stop at Plymouth Rock before I have a seat at Woods Seafood to watch the lobster boats come in as I enjoy one for myself.
I personally like to take the red eye flight so that I can disembark the plane, grab some Dunkin, and tackle the city on foot and by train, and after a day or two, I actually have a pretty good grasp on where I’m going. The transit system makes getting from place to place so easy and carefree and I find myself jealous of the people who get to spend their trips to and from work reading. A favorite lunch spot of mine is The Black Rose, where depending on the day I can feast on a lobster roll and cup of clam chowder or a whole lobster with an ice-cold Sam Adams. As you can tell, I eat my fair share of lobster while I’m there.
I love to catch baseball games at the most amazing Fenway Park where it’s as if you’re enjoying a street party and a baseball game breaks out. While wandering the streets of Back Bay, stopping to have a beer at the Bull & Finch Pub, or Cheers, as the TV sitcom would have us know it, is a must do. Then just across the street, you can relax on the bench that I deemed to be Julia’s bench in the Public Garden while to watch squirrels play in the grass and ducks swim in the pond.
A day or three is just never enough time and I create every reason possible to go back as often as possible, knowing that my Aunt Barbara will always have a place for me to stay. I still hope to retire there someday, but I might consider keeping my house in Las Vegas for the winters. As beautiful as they can be, I don’t shovel snow.
Thank you for taking this little journey with me and if you haven’t gone yet, I guarantee when you do, it’ll be totally worth it.

Title: Telling Me with Roses
Series and Book: The Ninety-Nine Roses Series, Book One
Author: Mareta L. Miller

Genre:  Contemporary Romance

Publisher: Mareta L. Miller

Date of Publication:  July 15, 2015

ISBN:  978-09965768657

Number of pages: 210
Word Count:  49,000

Loss is a feeling Julia Morreau knows all too well. On the day she was placing the last piece of her metaphorical puzzle, the table flipped and all the pieces fell to the ground, her beautiful picture forever destroyed. She would finally have the career of her dreams but she would lose the three people she loved most.
Six years later she has completely shut out everything but that career. She’s content with the fact that she once had a soul mate and family and that those memories must last her a lifetime. What she’s not prepared for is Derick Edmunds, her new partner at work.
He’s everything she never thought she’d want again, and even if she did want, never thought she’d find. He’s brought her back to life and selfish as it may be she can’t give him up, but she can’t give him the truth either. Can a woman, whose life has revolved around a tragedy trust the second chance she’s being given?

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I look around to make sure there’s no one nearby to hear me. Satisfied to see I’m alone, I talk to Alex. “Hey, you. It’s so beautiful today isn’t it? I’m glad because I need to talk to you and I wanted it to be here. We spent so much time here and I feel you here more than anywhere else. I don’t really know where to start.” I rub my palms on my jeans. Oddly enough I feel nervous. After taking a couple of calming breaths, I start, “God, I’m such a mess lately, Alex, and I don’t even know where to begin. I think I’m ready to try again. I’m ready to find someone. I’m ready to not be alone anymore. But, I’m afraid that I’m breaking the promise I made to you.” I had promised to love him forever. My eyes start to fill with tears remembering all the promises we made each other. We made good on all of them in the time we had but most of them died with him, all but one. It’s the one that doesn’t actually require his presence, the one that is holding me back. The promise I made to love him forever.
“I need to know that moving on is what you want me to do before I can. I have to know it’s okay. I need you to send me a sign that this is what you want for me.”
I sit there for a few minutes just staring out over the water trying to get myself back together when I’m startled by something flying past me. It hits the grass, and before I can figure out what it is, a dog runs past me, picks it up and turns to run back the way it came. I start to laugh, feeling silly about my reaction, being so startled by a dog. The dog instead walks over to me and drops, what I can now see is a yellow ball, at my feet. It hunches itself and bounces back ready to fetch it again.
“Where are your parents, buddy? You can’t be here all alone,” I ask, not really sure if buddy is a boy or girl. But then, from behind me, I hear a voice I know. Derick’s.
“There you are, Ginger. Did you find a friend, girl? I’m sorry if she bothered you, she likes people.” The dog doesn’t run to him but sits there still looking expectantly at me, waiting for me to throw the ball.
I pick it up and turn around to throw it to her owner. “I think she wants this.” I toss it to him and he catches it, looking at me a little shocked. I think he may be a little surprised to see me too, but then a smile spreads across his face.
“Julia.” He tosses the ball back to me. “I think Ginger wants her new friend to throw this for her. I can’t say I really blame her, I’d pick you over me too.” He laughs, and it touches his eyes. They are a sky blue and twinkle with his smile.
I throw the ball and Ginger is instantly off to fetch it. The excitement she has for that simple action is palpable, and I’m slightly jealous. I wish I felt excitement like that. But then I realize that I do as Derick sits on the bench next to me.
“I’m sorry. I’m not interrupting anything am I? May I sit?”
“Of course. Please. You’re not interrupting anything. I’m just taking in the weather. Beautiful, isn’t it?” I look back out over the lake, but every part of me is aware of his closeness. I want to keep looking at him, but I don’t for fear that I might stare. Or even worse yet, that looking into those eyes will be my undoing.

Author bio:

My name is Mareta L. Miller. I’m a Las Vegas native who still lives in Sin City. Trust me when I say that growing up in Vegas is not as awesome as it sounds. I’ve never lived in a casino and I’ve never been a stripper or a showgirl, but I have spotted Elvis at least once a day, my entire life. I’m just your average wife and mother of ten. Yup, I said ten, consisting of three daughters, a son, three puppies (because mine will never be dogs), two kitties, and a turtle.

I love the love stories and I’m a sucker for second chances, so I write them, one broken heart at a time. Building hope, conquering fear, and mending hearts is what my writing aims to do. I know that writing these stories is what I’m meant to do and with the support of my family and friends, I think that no matter what happens, as long as I’m writing, I can’t go wrong. 
My writing and wanting to publish a book was my wish for myself on my thirty-eighth birthday. Since then it has become a constant need, an itch that is never satisfied because the stories never stop. It’s been my way to deal with everything— my fear— my anxieties— all of life’s little knock-me-downs because I know firsthand that real love does exist and can conquer. Belief in love is a powerful thing. For the first time in my life I have that feeling of accomplishment and I love being able to share my stories with all of you. I hope you’ll continue to follow me on this journey because this is only my beginning. Although my wings have begun to flutter, I think you’ve yet to really see me fly.

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