Friday, March 25, 2011

Announcing the Grand Opening of Otherworlds Publicity

As every author knows, good publicity is worth it's weight in gold...okay, so publicity doesn't exactly weigh anything but you know what I mean, lol. Take advantage of Otherworld Publicity's grand opening sale, that's a lot of web presence for a great price! CONGRATS to OP's staff. So happy for y'all :)

Monday, March 21, 2011

What Cindy Reads--Hide and Secret, a realistic and passionate look at an affair

HIDE AND SECRET by  Denysé Bridger
Available now at Ellora's Cave
Alone with her journal, Bella examines her feelings and passion for Quinn Lockharte, a man who charged into her life in a storming fury and changed it forever. Quinn’s duty to his family has him engaged to his childhood sweetheart, and though the promise is an old one, Quinn feels bound to honor it. 
A surprise knock at her door brings Bella face-to-face with her destiny…but can she trust what her heart so desperately wants—especially when Quinn is determined to keep her naked and screaming his name? Mind-blowing sex has been their relationship’s strongest bond, but Bella’s tired of being his secret—and Quinn’s not willing to let her go.

Bella knew the day would come when she'd see a wedding announcement in the paper for her lover and the woman he's obligated to marry. She's been the secret he's kept for years, but when Quinn comes to her, unable to live a lie anymore, they feel their way through this poignant and tragic situation with love and passion.

I absolutely adored  Denysé Bridger's intimate look at star-crossed love from a mistresses point of view. I know for some readers stories about cheating and adultery can be difficult to enjoy--perhaps hitting too close to home for some and sympathy for the jilted lover can make it hard to lose yourself in the romance. But as an author and avid reader, I prefer stories grounded in reality and in reality lovers cheat and it's not uncommon for people to fall head over heels with the wrong person. Sometimes the heart rushes in where angels fear to tread. This is exactly the portrait of an affair Ms. Bridger has painted. She doesn't glamorize it or whitewash over the pain, guilt or loneliness of the situation for the mistress nor does she vilify Quinn. He is truly torn up about the fact that he has to break his fiancee's heart, but in the end he knows he must be cruel to be kind.

Aside from the powerful central conflict, the story is beautifully written in Ms. Bridger's signature lyrical style. The imagery, language and emotion are realistic and tugged at my heartstrings. The love scenes are explosive and hot, hot, hot which helped me understand why Bella and Quinn can't get enough of each other nor can they walk away. A relationship with so much chemistry is a once in a lifetime kind of love. All-in-all, HIDE AND SECRET is a heartfelt exploration of a sensitive topic, but I'd expect no less from the talented Ms. Bridger. My only complaint--it's a short story and I wanted more of the sexy Quinn for myself ;)

Get your copy today!

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Éire go Brách!

There are few things sexier than an Irish brogue...or an Irish rogue for that matter. Hee hee! I crack myself up. Anyhoo, let's get down to the business of celebrating St. Patrick's Day with some of the Emerald Isle's finest sons.
Aidan Turner

Cillian Murphy

Colin Farrell

Gabriel Byrne

Jonathan Rhys Meyers
They're all so delicious, I couldn't pick just one! Vote for your fave in the comment section below and of course, I'm always open to write-in candidates if I forgot a sexy Irish lad ;)

Éire go Brách!

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Waking Maggie--New Release! SPICY excerpt

Waking Maggie
Cindy Jacks

Available now at
Ellora's Cave:

Maggie’s just decided she’s been stood up when she bumps into hard-bodied guitarist Calvin—literally. Once the shock of their abrupt meeting wears off, Calvin asks Maggie out for a drink and she figures, why not? She’s all dressed up for a date…just not this one.

She enjoys his company, even if he’s only twenty-seven and she’s forty…something. And while witty conversation’s all good, they’re just as compatible in bed. One drink turns into multiple romps between the sheets. He’s old enough to know how to make love to a woman and young enough to look damn fine doing it…and doing it. He even manages to convince Maggie she’s still pretty hot herself.

Now if he would just stop serenading her with that infernal Rod Stewart song.

She covered his hand with hers and gave it a squeeze. “Thanks for making me feel better.”

The physical connection, the warmth of his skin emboldened her. A throbbing ache built between her legs. She wanted more.

He scooted to face her, drumming his fingers beneath hers. “It’s the least I could do after I tossed a glass of wine on you.”

I think we’re even. I did force-feed you raspberry lambic.”

Edging closer until their shoulders touched, he said, “Now that you mention it, I’m not sure the
punishment fit the crime.”

Maggie fell quiet. She could smell the fruity beer on his breath. What if he kissed her? What if she kissed him first? Swallowing hard, she moved her hand away, pretending to smooth her skirt, but he caught it again. He interlaced his fingers with hers and she stared at his hands. Those hands that moved over his guitar as if it were his lover. She wondered what those hands would feel like on her body. The thought incited a burst of excitement, the pulse between her thighs pounding harder.

When did you start playing guitar?” she asked, clearing her throat.

I was eight or nine, I think. My dad gave me one for Christmas. He plays and taught me how.”

You’re very good.”


Was the restaurant your only gig?” She scooted closer, pressing her shoulder against his hard chest.

No. I have other places I play and I teach at a couple community centers too. My dad gave me the best gift—any time I’m down or frustrated or confused about how I feel, I pull out my guitar and I make music. It quiets my mind and everything’s all right again. I like paying that forward, teaching someone else.”

That’s wonderful, very sweet.”

Argh, no. Not sweet, anything but sweet.” He feigned hurt.

No? What adjective would you accept then?”

How about ’crazy sexy’?” He eased an arm around her. Heat surged from her pussy outward, warming her thighs. Squeezing her legs together, she noticed her panties felt sticky.

She dipped her head in concession. “Well, of course you’re that. You’re a guitar player. Isn’t that in the job description?”

It is. You totally get me.” A crooked grin tugged at his lips.

She spread out his hand and compared it to hers. It was huge. “I like your hands.”

I like you, Maggie.” He toyed with her fingers.

Rubbing her palm against his, she said, “I like you too.”

Can I kiss you?”

She shot him an amused look. “If you promise next time to just do it instead of asking me.”

Right.” He leaned nearer and tilted his head, looking from her eyes to her mouth and then back again. She closed her eyes and touched her nose to his.

The kiss started out soft and uncertain, still more of a question than a kiss, as if he expected her to rebuff him. But then he snaked an arm around her and drew her closer, parting her lips with his. His tongue was gentle and playful; he tasted like raspberry. She nipped and sucked at his bottom lip. As the kiss tapered off, he pulled back slowly, finishing with a couple delicate pecks.

She laid the back of her hand against his cheek. His skin was like whipped cream or a rose petal, all velvety smooth. She liked touching him. As if it had a mind of its own, her hand traveled down his neck and she found herself running a couple fingers over his thick collarbone. Still, uncertainty seemed to plague him.

Too late to turn back, Maggie took control, unbuttoning his shirt. He lay back on the sofa and pulled his shirttails out of his pants. The fabric fell open and she scrambled to her knees, poised over him. She slid a hand over his carved abdomen, muscle tensing beneath her fingers. So gorgeous. She couldn’t help herself, she swooped down and planted little kisses on his torso. Already hard, the tip of his cock peeked out of the waistband of his low-cut slacks and she ran her tongue over it. He sucked in a sharp breath. Excited by his reaction, she unfastened his pants and pulled them off along with his underwear....

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Drops of Jupiter

Today, I sent my man this text: "When I hear love songs, I always think of you." After he sent a text asking how many glasses of wine I'd had (not being cruel, I'm just not usually that nice to him, lol), he replied, "I love you too." And I know he means it.

We've been through it all--break ups, make ups, noble denial, decadent submission, running, chasing, working to make it work and all the ordinary boring times in between. But at the end of the day, he's the one I want to steal the covers from in the middle of the night and I know we'll grow old together. Now, come on, Cindy, you say. In this day and age, no one really knows that, do they? Well, I do. And here's why: I crave him like chocolate and I've loved chocolate all my life. When he's away, I miss him like my best friend from grade school and she and I have been friends for 25 years. When he's mad about something, I'm mad for him. When he's sad, I want to kiss it and make it better. When he's getting dressed, I can't take my eyes off him. He's deeply flawed, but I've made my peace with his flaws and he's made his peace with mine...sort of, lol. And when we fight (and yes, we DO fight. A LOT), we do it with anger and passion and spite and lots of door slamming. Only someone I care about so much could piss me off so badly.

A couple months ago he told me, "I can't see my future without you in it." It's the same for me. Could I be happy with someone else? Probably. But would I feel like I'm living some kind of Nora Roberts novel. I doubt it. I'm not sure I believe in soul mates, but I do know this: Before I met him, I thought Train's "Drops of Jupiter" was a stupid song (my apologies to Train). Now when I hear it I sport a knowing half-smile because I get it. And I get him which makes me feel like the luckiest gal in the world.

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

CONTEST: Happy Read-an-Ebook-Week!

Did you know that it's "Read an E-book Week?" With Kindles, Nooks, and other e-readers flying off the shelves, electronic books are more popular than ever. It's been 40 years since the first e-book was created. For more about e-books and a contest to win an e-reader click here:

And since e-books are my bread and butter, how about I sweeten the pot? For a chance to win my brand new release, Waking Maggie, coming to Ellora's Cave March 15th, post your favorite e-book title in the comment section! The contest will run all week, winner will be drawn at random from commenters. I'll post the winner on Waking Maggie's release day! Good luck and I can't wait to see your faves :)


Monday, March 7, 2011

Happy Release Day to Denyse! (Belated)

You don't get much sexier, Alpha-male than Quinn! Congrats on the new release, Denyse! HUGS! Get your copy today at Ellora's Cave:
Alone with her journal, Bella examines her feelings and passion for Quinn Lockharte, a man who charged into her life in a storming fury and changed it forever. Quinn’s duty to his family has him engaged to his childhood sweetheart, and though the promise is an old one, Quinn feels bound to honor it. 
A surprise knock at her door brings Bella face-to-face with her destiny…but can she trust what her heart so desperately wants—especially when Quinn is determined to keep her naked and screaming his name? Mind-blowing sex has been their relationship’s strongest bond, but Bella’s tired of being his secret—and Quinn’s not willing to let her go.

An Excerpt From: HIDE AND SECRET
Copyright © DENYSÉ BRIDGER, 2011
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.
Your eyes narrow in irritation so I step aside and gesture for you to come into the apartment. I’m startled more than I should be when you slam the door shut and I am suddenly caught between your body’s urgent pressure and the solid wooden door that you push me against. Every part of me wakes, like flame that had been starved for air and is suddenly set free. My response is explosive and desperately hungry. You knot your hands in my soft sweater, already lifting it, your cool touch gliding over my heated skin. I want you, but for the first time this is not enough. Brushing your thumbs indolently over my nipples, you reignite an ache that drags low in my body, threatening to make me forget everything but how much I want you.
“I don’t want you here.” It’s hard to say which one of us is more startled by the words when they spill out of me.
You pull back and look at me intently, your eyes measuring the truth of what I’ve said. Then you shake your head and catch me between your hands as you bend to cover my mouth with yours. Slipping your tongue between my lips, you push your hips against me, telling me precisely what you desire.
I’m drowning in you. When I push at your shoulders you take my hands and pin them to the door, hips thrusting in the same greedy rhythm as your tongue inside my mouth. With a rough twist of my head, I break the lusting kiss and look away.
“I said I don’t want you here!”
Frowning, you step back and run a hand through the thickness of your dark hair, your eyes shrewd and watchful as you calculate your next move. I can see you thinking, working out what you need to do to change my mind. If you only knew how easy it would be…
I see the smile that’s starting to lift the corner of your mouth, the gleam in your eyes tells me you don’t believe my rejection is remotely genuine.
I move away, walk past you, but get only a few steps before you put your arms around me and pull me back against you. Before I can break away, you push your hands under my sweater again, cupping my breasts, stroking and squeezing, fingertips pulling on the hard buds of my nipples, your mouth soft on the curve of my neck.
“You want me, Bella. Why are we playing this game?”
Your voice is equal parts gravel and silk and I feel the question against my skin, pouring into my blood like an injection of heated desire.
I don’t have time to answer before you’re walking into the living room, pulling me behind you. The candles are flickering, the soft recessed lighting adds a warm glow to the room. Outside the glass plates of the windows, the snow is swirling lazily. You sit me on the sofa in front of the crackling fire.
“We have to talk,” I whisper.
You nod and watch me as you take your coat off and toss it onto a nearby chair.
“You talk, I’ll listen.” You come toward me, stop in front of where I am sitting and then drop to your knees and smile.