It’s that time of year again when we look back at the year that was and look ahead to the year that will be.

Some of us will set goals for the new year and some of us will make resolutions. And some of us won’t do either one.

2012 was a good year for me. After 5 years of trying, I sold my first novel, Rush, which came out last August. Rush was not the first one I wrote, it was actually the 4th one that I’ve written. And then a few months later I sold the 3rd book I wrote, a mystery titled Hair Sprayed Hard and Put Away Forever, which will be released in 2014.

What about books 1 and 2 you ask? Well, those will live permanently on my hard drive, never to be published. They were my learning books and I’m not sad that they will never have a life. I learned a lot from them and am grateful for the lessons they taught me.

There are lessons in each book I write and those lessons carry over into the next book, and the next, and the next one after that. I learned a lot in 2012 and I hope those lessons, like the ones from each of my books, will carry over into 2013.

Here’s a short excerpt from Rush that I hope you will enjoy~

“Would you like a beer?” he asked.

“Only if you’ll have one with me,” she half joked.

He paused, looking down at her, his lips pressed into a deep frown. “I would. But after what happened today…” Something close to regret dug a furrow between his brows and he placed a hand on her cheek, stroking the pad of his thumb across her cheekbone. “I won’t take any chances with you.”

She nodded, tilting her head into his caress. “I understand.” And she did. Whatever she was to him now was more than just a job. The thrumming he caused deep within her shimmered and shook, quivering so keenly she could hardly contain it. She closed her eyes, savoring the sensation.

He kneeled down in front of her. “Mi.”

Her lashes fluttered open and she found herself staring into eyes the color of a night sea, dark and fathomless. He leaned forward slowly, always slowly. Too slowly. She placed her hands on either side of his face and hurried him along. The first brush of his lips had her turning in her chair, scooting toward him. He wound his arms around her, bringing her flush against him, and changed the angle of the kiss, still keeping it light. His body was hot and hard in all the right places. She inhaled his scent like drug. It got inside her and she knew for as long as she lived she’d associate the smell of him with warm nights and a yearning so fierce she wanted to rip her own clothes off and present herself for his pleasure.

He moaned, a sound both plaintive and aching as he pulled away from her. “Detective Rolls is sending someone over for the envelope.” He set his forehead to hers. “He should be here any moment.”

“Okay.” He stood to leave, but she grabbed his wrist, stopping him. “I just wanted to say thank you. For dinner. For letting me stay here. And for being so good at your job.” She pulled on his wrist for emphasis. “Thank you. For everything.”

He looked away, his jaw working, then turned back angry. “You can thank me by not thanking me.”

“I just… I’m sorry.”

Bracketing her with a hand on her chair and a hand on the table, he leaned down. “I don’t want your apologies either,” he said, his voice rough and agitated.

“Wh… what do you want?”

The doorbell rang. He didn’t look away at the sound or start as she did.

“You.”

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