Excerpt: 'Never Too Late' by Robyn Carr

Robyn Carr shares an excerpt from this week's women's fiction re-release, Never Too Late.

Robyn: Never Too Late was a labor of love. I started out writing a story about a woman having a midlife crisis at 40, getting involved with a younger man, expanding her boundaries and beginning anew. But it grew. It was still all those things, but Clare Wilson was a little more multifaceted than that because no woman journeys alone. It was supposed to be a romance, which of course it is, but when finding love isn't the only issue, there's work to do. Life work.

Welcome Clare's sisters, both of whom have journeys of their own. Maggie has been happily married for years, until just recently when she realizes the spark is gone. Sarah has been struggling to find the right balance in her life for a long, long time, and one thing that could bring things into focus for her is passion with a special man, and not just any man, but Clare's castoff.

And Clare needs a lot more than a little love — she must reach into her past, going back 20 years, and try to right a grievous wrong.

Women discovering love is definitely romance, and these three women have their own ideas where and how to do that. But when the ultimate goal is also self-discovery, the story takes a significant turn into the neighborhood of women's fiction.

This is a rocky but satisfying ride as these three sisters learn that it's never too late to build the kind of life they've longed for … and deserve.

Here's the blurb about Never Too Late (courtesy of Mira):

Three seconds is all it takes to turn a whole life around.

And if anybody knows about bouncing back after disaster, it's Clare Wilson. She's had it with being married to a serial cheater, and no way is he getting another chance. Even her own son thinks she should have kicked his dad to the curb ages ago. Now she's done it for good, and Clare is finally feeling the rush of unadulterated freedom.

But when a freak car crash lands Clare in the hospital, her life takes another detour. She might be banged up and bruised, but suddenly men are coming out of the woodwork. Even her ex is pining for her. It seems being an independent single woman is a powerful aphrodisiac. But amidst all the lust, the last thing Clare expects to find is love.

EXCERPT

She hit the steering wheel in blind fury. That's when she saw the flashing lights in her rearview mirror and looked down at the speedometer. Damn it all, she was speeding.

She slowed down and pulled to the curb , then she let her head drop and she fell apart, crying painful tears. Familiar tears.

It was a few minutes before the officer's flashlight shone into the window and he tapped lightly on the glass. She lowered it and looked up into the handsome face of an overgrown boy who wore a paternal frown. "Got an appointment?" he asked.

She wiped the tears off her cheeks. "I'm sorry," she said, though even as she said it she knew he wasn't looking for an apology. "I was angry and careless. A bad combination."

"Angry, careless and dead is an even worse combination."

"I found my husband in bed with another woman," she blurted. There, she'd done it again. Roger wasn't the only one with no discretion. She just couldn't keep her mouth shut.

"Whoa," said the police officer. He shined the flashlight on her face. "He must be crazy," he said.

"We're separated," she added. "I walked right into it. I should have been smarter. I should have known."

"I'm going to need to see your driver's license and registration."

"Sure," she said. She fumbled a little, but got the papers together and handed them out the window. "Proof of insurance, too."

He looked at the documents. "Are you drunk?" he asked.

"No. But I'm not going to kid you. I'm going home to fix a nice big one."

He had a dazzling smile. Wonderful dimples. Good-looking guy, she thought. "Hey, if I weren't on duty, I'd buy you one." He handed back her stuff and said, "Look, I don't know anything about this man of yours, but you're a beautiful woman and it would be a damn shame if you got yourself killed on account of him being a loser. Know what I mean?"

"Yes," she said contritely.

"Think you can make it home safely? Stop at stop signs, drive slowly, all that?"

She nodded, confused. "Aren't you going to give me a ticket?"

"I think you've been through enough tonight. Don't you?

"But I thought once you started a ticket, you had to finish it."

"I've always wondered why people think that," he said. Again that smile. "I'm the police—I can do what I want. Go on. Be careful. And don't punish the bastard by hurting yourself."

"You're right," she said.

"Of course I'm right. I could tell in thirty seconds, you have a lot to live for. Drive safely."

He went back to his car and she put hers into gear. She signaled, looked around and carefully edged away from the curb. She was only five minutes from home. He followed her, she noticed with some amusement. She came to the traffic light and stopped on the red. She gave him a little wave in the rearview mirror, but couldn't tell if he returned the gesture. The light turned green and she cautiously entered the intersection.

And the lights went out.

Find out more about Robyn and her books at www.robyncarr.com.