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Showing posts with label Pirates at Heart. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pirates at Heart. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 7, 2018

Long Lost Nathaniel, Red Sky at Night--Book Four in the Pirates at Heart Series

One of my better selling series, Pirates at Heart, has a fourth tale untold until now. As I load my works onto Amazon, the Pirates at Heart reboot will contain a fourth book, Red Sky at Night, the story of Nathaniel and Ruby. There's a lot of surprises in this one, the death of one of my main characters which broke my heart to write AND this juicy tidbit below. Enjoy!


Pricking her finger, Ruby watched the droplet of red swell on the surface of her skin. She pressed it to the health scan display. Something was really wrong, she just knew it. With all the nausea, dizziness and fatigue, she feared the worst. Except for the lack of high fever, her symptoms had all the earmarks of Storm Flu. Her temp flirted at the edge of being elevated, 37.6 C, but never quite went over the line.
What would she do if she couldn’t work? She didn’t have enough in savings to take off more than a month or so. Not after her bastard ex had stolen everything she owned a few years back. What if she got really sick? She had no one to take care of her. She hadn’t spoken to her father and brothers in decades. She didn’t know where they were, if they still were. The same went for her mother. She had no one.
Except for Nate, a voice in the back of her mind piped up. The thought alarmed her. Sure, the young man was a fun plaything, a masterful lover and one of the finest captains she had ever worked with.  And that’s how she felt. She worked with him, not for him which was one of the only reasons she had agreed to stay on as his first mate after she had helped him get his feet wet. But did she have him to rely on should the worst happen? Did she want to? Still, part of her felt that if his was the last face she saw before she sank into oblivion, that would be all right.
The little analyzer beeped, jarring her from her thoughts and displaying her results.
“Holy fuck.” She exhaled.
Her condition proved worse than she had imagined.
* * * * *
“So then we’ll need to procure a pink orangutan, right First Mate Delaney?”
“Aye, Captain.”
She had heard Nate’s words but they hadn’t quite registered. Then she realized what she had just agreed to.
The shift supervisors snickered, but Nate silenced them with a glare.
“Crew dismissed.” He waved a hand, the sailors scrambling to vacate the pilothouse.
“Sorry, I’m a little distracted.” She shook her head.
“Yeah, a bit. What’s going on?”
Shifting her weight from foot to foot, she crossed her arms over her torso.
“Hey.” Nate brushed a lock of hair from her forehead. “It’s me. If you’re struggling with something, you can talk to me.”
“I don’t know. Maybe not about this.”
“About anything.” He kissed the back of one hand.
A surge of nausea hit her. Closing her eyes, she took slow, deep breaths.
“Ruby, you’re worrying me.”
“Maybe you should be worried.” Tears sprang into her eyes.
He furrowed his brow. “Now, you’re scaring me. Tell me what’s going on.”
“You have to promise me not to overreact.” She sidestepped him and began pacing back and forth.
“I promise I will overreact if you don’t talk.” He caught her by the shoulders. “Ruby, please.”
“Nate―” Her voice broke. “I’m―I’m pregnant.”
“Oh.” His eyes grew wide. “Oh. What? How?”
She rolled her eyes. “Well, when a man and woman get these special feelings―”
He waved away her sarcasm. “You know what I mean. I thought you had the implant.”
“And I thought you were on the pill.”
“With everything that happened with Momma, I forgot to refill my prescription and I figured you were still on birth control.”
“At my last physical, my doctor advised removal so I had it removed.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me?”
“I thought you were on the pill. You should’ve told me you went off it.”
“Fair enough. But you’ve been without the implant for over six months now. Why wouldn’t you give me a head’s up?”
Loath to admit the truth, she shook her head and shrugged. Nate’s questioning stare didn’t waver. Apparently, he wanted a real explanation. She sighed, her cheeks burning.
“Because.” She crossed her arms over her chest, studying the floor. “Do you think I wanted to tell my twenty-four year old lover that at my age the implant carries significantly more risk?”
“I don’t know why you’re always so hung up on our ages.” He shook his head. “This mess could’ve been avoided.”
His words cut her. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, sugar. You don’t have to deal with ‘this mess’ if you don’t want to.”
“Ruby.” He tried to catch her hand, but she pulled away. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Sounded pretty clear to me.”
“No. No, I’m just surprised.”
“Don’t think that I’m thrilled about this either. You aren’t the only one who’s upset.”
“I’m not upset.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
He combed his fingers through his hair, a signature move when frustrated or at a loss for words. Rubbing a hand over the stubble on his chin, he held her gaze for a while. A heavy exhalation broke the silence.
“I’m sorry. It’s just―wow. A baby.” He took her hands and wouldn’t allow her to pull away. “A baby.”
“Stop saying that word. I don’t even know that I want this.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean. Please, don’t make me say it.”
“I don’t even want you to think it.” He furrowed his brow.
“But it’s the truth, Nate. I just need some time to figure out what I want.”
“We can figure this out together.”
Chewing her thumb nail, Ruby shook her head. She wasn’t so sure they could.
* * * * *
A baby.
A baby.
Sitting in his captain’s chair in his cabin, Nate stared out into space as the thought echoed in his mind. A baby. Definitely not the tack he thought his relationship with Ruby would take, but then again, since when did anything in life go as he thought it would?
Poppa’s career-ending injury, Marcus taking over The Yellow Rose, Momma’s untimely passing. And now a child. But Ruby’s pregnancy didn’t fit in with those other events, did it? He had struggled to deal with all those other things, but a baby, well, the thought gave him a warm, excited feeling. Granted that feeling was also cloaked in more than a little panic, but ultimately it was a good thing. A blessing. Yes, that was the word.
“I don’t even know that I want this.” Ruby’s words from earlier replayed in his head.
Clearly, she didn’t see it as a blessing. Not yet. Maybe she never would.
He knew it was her choice, one she had a right to make, but he couldn’t bear the thought of losing the baby. Somehow he would have to show her his commitment, show her that he could be the man she needed him to be. They could make this work. He would make this work. He had to.
Pushing the comm link, Nate issued an order to his quartermaster, Miguel.
* * * * *
After a nap and a shower, Ruby’s mind had cleared a little. She would take this change of plans one day at a time. Maybe Nate was right, they could figure something out.
Reporting for her shift in the pilothouse, she didn’t understand why Quartermaster Miguel was setting the course.
“It’s my shift, QM.” She stepped up to the wheel.
“Captain says you’re off the schedule until further notice,  First Mate Delaney.”
“He said what?” She set her jaw.
Swallowing hard, Miguel dropped her gaze. “He said―”
“I heard you the first time,” she snapped.
Spinning on her heel, she stormed belowdecks.
How dare he? How. Dare. He? What did he think, that she was some kind of invalid now? By the time she reached Nate’s quarters, she had worked up a full head of steam. Punching in her pass code, she didn’t even bother to knock.
Shirtless and clearly in the midst of a work out, he grinned and toweled off as soon as she burst in. “Hey, darlin’, I was just thinking―”
“Then, you should stop doing things you are ill equipped to do.”
Furrowing his brow, he took a step back. “Are you pissed about something?”
“Whatever gave you that idea? Why the hell did you take me off the shift schedule?”
“You said you needed time to think. And I thought…in your condition―”
“That I can’t plot a course or program the autodrive to steer the fucking boat?”
“If you have to put it on manual during a squall or if we get boarded―and you need your rest.”
“I can still do my job, asshole. This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen.”
“I was trying to help.”
“Well, don’t. I’m not asking you for help…or anything else.”
“Ruby, we’re in this together.” Again, he reached out to her and again she pulled away.
“Don’t equate your role in this with mine.”
“I admit that in terms of the pregnancy, I’ll have it a lot easier, but once the baby’s born, I’m sure being a father will put me through my paces.”
“Stop acting as though this is a done deal. Right now, all you are is a sperm donor, okay?”
Eyes narrowing and posture stiffening, he whipped the towel onto the floor.
“Is that how you feel about me? Why even tell me, then?”
“I didn’t want to tell you. You pried it out of me.”
“So the plan was to just―to end things without me ever knowing?” he shouted.
The outburst startled her. Hands on his hips and chest heaving, he glared down at her. For the first time, she realized how very big and imposing he could be. Apparently, she had crossed the line. She had never seen him angry. Not like this and especially not with her.
“I don’t have a plan.” She backed away, shaking her head. “Nate, there’s a reason that I’m almost forty years old and I don’t have any children. I’m a criminal, for crissakes. The first mate on a bootlegger’s ship. The way I earn my living isn’t exactly conducive to breastfeeding.”
His expression softened. “We can make arrangements―”
“If I can’t work, I can’t provide for a child.”
“That’s not what I mean―”
She shook her head, tears leaking down her face. Fucking hormones.
“I can’t be seven months along, running from brown coats.”
“No one is asking you to.” He grasped her hand. “Ruby, I’m here for you.”
“As much as anyone is there for anybody.”
“What does that even mean?” He jostled her gently, exasperation drawing his features tight.
“I don’t know. I don’t know anything. I don’t know where we are, what we are.”
“Neither do I, but I know that I care about you and I know that―that I want this baby.”
His words drained all the fight from her body. Shoulders slumped, she shook her head. “How can you know what you want? You’re so young. You have your whole life ahead of you.”
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
Wrapping her arms around herself, she trained her gaze on the ceiling. “I have nothing, Nate. No one. You have family, money, you have everything.”
“And everything I have is yours.” He touched her belly. “Is ours. We can do this. Together.”
She hiccupped a sob.
“Ruby, I should have told you this sooner. It’s a thought that’s been swimming around my brain. Maybe it will make all this easier. I think I love—”
“No, don’t say it.” She put a finger to his lips. “I don’t want to hear it. Not now.”
She couldn’t bear to hear the words if he didn’t mean them. And what if he did mean them? This thought frightened her even more.
His mouth opened again, but he closed it as if it was all he could do to contain himself. She leaned forward kissing him lightly. One arm snaked around her waist, a hand tangled in her hair, he deepened the kiss. Hot breath passed over her cheek, his musky scent heavy in the air. He teased open her lips, his tongue caressing hers. She melted in his embrace, unable to resist the warmth and urgency of his touch.
Lowering her onto the bed, he eased her back, fingertips skimming over her chest, grazing her nipples and then meandering down to her waist. On his knees before her, he bent down pausing for just a second, smiling, before he planted a kiss on her belly. Heat and need raced through her veins and settled between her thighs.
Gently, he lifted her shirt over her head and unhooked her bra, casting both garments aside. The cool ocean breeze coming in from the porthole drew her nipples into tight buds. He licked at the dots of puckered flesh, nuzzling each breast and kissing them.
She sighed, threading her fingers in his hair. Once he had slipped off her trousers, he took off his shorts. Settling between her legs, he pressed his hard cock to her opening, but hesitated.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” He smoothed her hair across the pillow. “Either of you.”
One finger tracing his high cheekbones, she realized how very much she needed him inside her right this very second. Joining their bodies together would make all of this strange dream real in her heart and soul. She might be able to believe in a future she’d never dared to think about, but in Nate’s arms all seemed possible.
________________________________________________________________________________________

Want to participate in WIP Wednesday and show the world what you are working on? Send submissions to cindyjacksbooks@gmail.com. Romance, erotic romance and erotica prefered.

Cheers!
Cindy

Thursday, February 21, 2013

Sailor's Knot #ReleaseDate and #CoverReveal


I am thrilled to announce the release date for Book Three in the Pirates at Heart Series titled SAILOR'S KNOT. March 22nd, the Logan family saga continues!
 
Blurb:
The year is 2037 and the next generation of the Logan family pirates have taken over the helm of The Yellow Rose. Running bootleg booze and smuggling runners from the Reformed States of America into the Republic of Texas, business couldn’t be better …that is if brothers Marcus and Nathaniel don’t kill each other in the process.
Captain Marcus Logan is serious, brooding and haunted, carrying a torch for his first mate, Amelie. Nathaniel—the resident party boy—is none of those things, but somehow they’d made their differences work for them until recently. When the tall, leggy blonde, Captain Ruby Delaney, is a guest aboard The Rose, she turns Nathaniel’s head and stirs up all sorts of trouble, not the least of which is winding up in Marcus’ bed one drunken night. This ill-advised one night stand ignites a love quadrangle so intertwined that the phrase “it’s complicated” doesn’t begin to define this sailor’s knot.
A Romantica® futuristic erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave
Excerpt: 
Humiliation and admiration flooded Marcus with equal measure. Ruby was far craftier than he’d given her credit for. His earlier words to Nate echoed in his mind. He’d accused his brother of ineptitude when Marcus himself couldn’t tie a restraint that could hold her.
Shaking his head, he passed her the bottle. “Glad I could entertain you.”
“Aw, don’t be like that. I’m still trapped here.” She ran a hand over his sheets, leaning forward and spreading her legs a bit. “In your cabin.”
Bad girl. He arched an eyebrow. Usually he’d be immune to such an obvious overture, but in his current state, she was hard to ignore.
His cock stirred at the thought of her in his bed. Maybe it was the whiskey or maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t had a woman in… How long had it been? Several months at least. A smile crossed his lips. That barmaid in Belize. He usually steered clear of one-night stands, but she’d been so insistent, hadn’t she?
And his last relationship before that, over a year prior. It had lasted a couple of weeks at best. Sticking around wasn’t his forte. Not since— No, he wouldn’t think about Amelie anymore. Not with a beautiful blonde next to him. For once, couldn’t he do what any man would do in this situation? For once, couldn’t he give in to his base desires instead of suppressing them, struggling to keep them under control?
“You’re gorgeous when you smile.” Ruby intruded on his thoughts.
Marcus stared at her, weighing his options. Her full breasts rose and fell with every breath, her voluptuous thighs grazing past his leg as she shifted to make herself more comfortable. She smelled like his soap but there was an undercurrent of her own scent. Rich and sweet. He wanted to taste her.
“Are you flirting with me?” he asked, leaning closer.
“Obviously.” She licked her lips, meeting his hungry stare.
Scooting closer, she pressed her breasts to his arm. He dipped his head a little to the right. Her quick exhalations skimmed his cheek. She wouldn’t run away, disappear at the crucial moment. Quite the opposite. With one finger trailing beneath his chin, she drew him nearer, daring him to kiss her.
She was offering herself up to be had, for him to take her. And why not? There was no one waiting at home for him. He was a free man with a cock so hard it hurt. And this woman—a dangerous and wild woman—wanted him. At least for the night. And he wanted her. Hell, who wouldn’t?
He cradled the back of her neck, kissing her hard. “If you steal from me again, I’ll kill you.”
“I wouldn’t cross you again. I know when I’m licked.”
Pushing her back onto the mattress, he nipped at her ear. “I haven’t even started licking you yet.”
She laughed, wrapping a leg around him.
Haven't read books one and two? Find LANDLOCKED and SMUGGLER'S BLUES here: http://www.ellorascave.com/series/pirates-at-heart.html

Friday, December 21, 2012

And the winner is...#CandyCaneKink Blog Hop!

Thanks to everyone who hopped with us! My winner is Amy, congrats :) I'll email you for your address and get your goodies on the way!

Cheers,
Cindy
_________________________________________________


Candy Kane Kink

Happy holidays to all my bad girls and boys! I'll be giving away a signed copy of my book RECLAIMED and a holiday cinnamon and cranberry bath set and candle. You'll be all set to relax with a good book and surround yourself with the scents of the season.

To me, the holidays are all about family. The fictional family I've created that I love the most are the Logans, the main characters in the PIRATES AT HEART series. A clan of bootleggers, pirates and outlaws, they stick together through thick and thin...even if the occasional squabble arises. Here's an unedited excerpt from SAILOR'S KNOT, book three in the series, coming soon to Ellora's Cave.

Sailor’s Knot
Cindy Jacks

Book three of the Pirates at Heart series

The year is 2037 and the next generation of the Logan family pirates have taken over the helm of The Yellow Rose. Running bootleg booze and smuggling runners from the Reformed States of America into the Republic of Texas, business couldn’t be better…that is if brothers Marcus and Nathaniel don’t kill each other in the process.

Captain Marcus Logan is serious, brooding and haunted, carrying a torch for his first mate, Amelie. Nathaniel—the resident party boy—is none of those things, but somehow they’d made their differences work for them until recently. When the tall, leggy blonde, Captain Ruby Delaney, is a guest aboard The Rose, she turns Nathaniel’s head and stirs up all sorts of trouble, not the least of which is winding up in Marcus’ bed one drunken night. This ill-advised one night stand ignites a love quadrangle so intertwined that the phrase “it’s complicated” doesn’t begin to define this sailor’s knot.

Excerpt:
Turning over in his mind what he would say, Marcus trudged along the corridor to Amelie’s room. It was time to lay his cards on the table. If only he could explain to her that he’d been foolish, that he’d let his dick do the thinking, that it was the pain over her rejection that had driven him into Ruby’s arms.
Okay, maybe he’d save that last bit for a future conversation. He wanted to reconcile, not drive her to homicide. Maybe he could explain that he’d lost his mind because all he'd ever wanted was Amelie in his arms again, but he was doing his best to accept that she never would be. And facing a future without her in it at all―not even as his business partner―was more than he could bear.
If she would only forgive him, if she would only stay on as his first mate, he’d promise to keep his feelings for her in check and he’d never bring his sex life aboard the ship again. It would be strictly business, but she had to stay. She had to.
Yes, if he could say all of that then everything would be all right. But that he’d never put so many words together in his entire life seemed a huge obstacle. He had to try. He owed her that much after the blow he’d dealt her.
Steeling himself to the task at hand, he approached her door. He’d just raised a hand to rap on it when it creaked open. Boots in hand, Nate appeared, half-dressed. Marcus stopped. Had he taken a wrong turn? Had he walked to Nate’s cabin out of habit? Why, then, had all the color drained from Nate’s face?
“Oh. MW.” Nate gave a curt nod.
A shard of ice stabbed Marcus’ heart. What had his brother done? What the fuck was going on? But Marcus knew the answer to that question. Didn’t he?
“What did you do, Nate?” Marcus growled.
“None of your fucking business.”
Marcus’ temper went off like a shot—he heard himself roaring at his brother as though he were listening to someone else. His hands were on Nate’s throat and Marcus tossed him against hallway wall. Striking wildly, Marcus smashed his fist into his brother’s nose. Nate caught him in the chin with an upper cut and they tumbled to the floor. Marcus continued to throw punches, some landing, some blocked. They continued to brawl, their shouts drawing others out of their cabins.
“Marcus!” Amelie shrieked.
She tugged at his collar clearly desperate to pull him off her new lover.
“Marcus, please.” She was frantic.
Somehow forcing himself off of Nate, Marcus struggled to his feet. He rounded on Amelie who was now sobbing—and wearing Nate’s shirt.
“What the fuck?” he shouted. “What the fuck, Amelie? Jesus fucking Christ.”
“Marcus, please—”
“’Marcus, please’ what? Oh no, I deserved this right? Yeah, fine.” He was so angry he shook.
“And you—” He turned to Nate. “If you weren’t my brother, I’d kill you with my bare hands.”
Amelie sank to her knees, tending to Nate’s bloody nose.
Walk away, Marcus told himself. That’s what he’d have to do, walk away and keep walking until there was enough space between him and Nate that Marcus couldn’t do something he’d regret…one day.
Still shaking, he stormed into his own cabin. Ruby was there, draped over his desk chair, reading a book.
“Get out.” He jerked a thumb at the door. Blood dripped down his hands, his knuckles split open.
“What’s wrong, sugar?”
“Just get out. Pick any room you like, but you can’t stay here.” He stripped off his master key and threw it at her feet. “Steal the fucking boat again if you want.”
“What happened?” She stood.
He uncorked at bottle of whiskey, pouring some over his hands one at a time. “Ruby, I’m going to get stupid drunk and I want to be alone. It’s nothing you’ve done.”
“Okay. I’ll go. But I’m not sure you should be by yourself,” she replied, uncharacteristically compliant.
Turning away, he downed several gulps. His chest warmed bringing with it the slightest bit of numbness. How Marcus longed to be completely numb. Bulletproof.
“If you want, I’ll look after the bridge.” Ruby dressed.
“Do whatever you want. Everyone else on this fucking boat does.” He drank more.
“Marcus…please, tell me what’s going on.”
“Amelie slept with Nate,” he mumbled, hanging his head. The pain of the admission seeping into his veins. Tears prickled in his eyes. He would not cry. He would not cry like some pathetic loser.
“I can stay.”
He choked on a sob sinking onto his bunk, his head in his hands. “Please go.”
“Okay,” she murmured.
He heard her collect his key and slip out the cabin door.



Like what you read? Don't forget to snatch up a copy of LANDLOCKED and SMUGGLER'S BLUES, books one and two!

And don't forget to keep on hopping! Visit more blogs and leave some love for more chances to win great prizes.

Happy Holidays!
Cindy




Monday, August 27, 2012

Sneak peek! SMUGGLER'S BLUES

The sequel to LANDLOCKED in my PIRATES AT HEART series. Check out the sneak peek excerpt!


The familiar ping of rain falling onto a tin roof startled her. Thunder rumbled, louder this time. The storm had begun.
“What’s wrong?” Brett tilted her head up to look at him. His brow furrowed, gaze studying hers, the concern in his expression disarmed her. Heavy raindrops beat a tattoo on the tin roof, adding to her fear and exhaustion.
Kathryn shook her head. Everything was wrong.
Seeming to read her mind, he nodded. “Stupid question, huh?”
Kathryn nodded and sighed. She wanted nothing more than to collapse into his arms, to fall into a dreamless sleep until this was all over. But it was nowhere near over. This ordeal continued to get more and more complicated.
Leaning her head against his chest, she listened to his strong heartbeat. “Do you—do you really think Dale killed someone because of my mistake?”
“No, not if he didn’t have to. Have some faith in basic human greed.” He jostled her.
The remark struck her as funny. She gave a weak smile. Maybe Brett was right. Or maybe he was trying to make her feel better.
“I really screwed up.”
“I screwed up. You’re only here because I… I should’ve stayed home when you asked me to pass up this deal.”
Home. It was all that she longed for, but the thought only brought on another wave of anxiety. Her chest grew tight and his words from the night before flooded back. He’d stolen the comfort of home from her too. Silent tears dripped down her cheeks.
“But you’re bored with me.” She huffed.
Lightning flashed outside, the wind picked up force. It swept through the poorly constructed shack, the oil lamp light flickered.
“Kate.” He smoothed her hair and pressed her into a hug. “Kate, I didn’t mean that you bore me.”
“Don’t try to sugarcoat it now.”
Tilting her chin up, he cupped her face in his hands. “I’m not. I bore me when I’m at home. This life—” He motioned to the shelter and the storm outside. “This is all I’ve ever known and I just don’t know how to entertain myself otherwise.”
“I know I’m busy with the boys.” She went on as if she hadn’t heard what he’d said. “And I’ve never been the kind of woman who gets all dolled up—”
He cut her off with a kiss, his hand sliding around her waist.
“Stop.” She turned away.
Tangling a hand in her hair, he exposed her neck and planted a trail of kisses.
“You are—” He kissed down to her cleavage. “The most exciting woman I’ve ever known.”
His growing erection indicated the truth in his words.
“And that’s saying a lot,” she teased. His affection chasing away her self-doubt little by little.
Her pulse and respiration quickening, her sex grew warm and tight. He slipped a hand beneath her shirt, letting it roam over her bare skin as if it had a mind of its own.
“It’s not every woman who’ll assault me with my own wallet.”
Kathryn chuckled, holding back a squeal as he stroked the ticklish spot at the cleft of her ass.
  
Haven't read LANDLOCKED? Get your copy today! http://www.jasminejade.com/m-683-cindy-jacks.aspx

Monday, April 30, 2012

I was going to procrastinate but I decided to wait until tomorrow

If you keep up with my FB posts https://www.facebook.com/author.cindy.jacks or Tweets https://twitter.com/#!/cindyjacks, you know I've been under the crunch to get a manuscript finished by my deadline--May 1st. Eeeek! Shouldn't it all be spit polished by now, you say? Yes, yes it should be, lol. Naughty little author that I am, I procrastinated until the last minute.

Now in my defense, I was working on other manuscripts, the characters I didn't have to cajole out of their sullen silence, sleek plot lines without holes or fat, stories about which inspiration abounded. But the closer the deadline for Smuggler's Blues drew, the more I had to stop making excuses and stop playing with other stories. I don't really get blocked so much as distracted. So I shifted my focus to Kate and Brett Logan and the dystopian future I'd created and got to work. And I didn't let myself down. It will be finished on time and it will be good.

But why did I have to let it go so long in the first place? In my teens and twenties I was obsessive, working ahead as much as possible, but as I've gotten older--and had a family--I find myself more than willing to put off till tomorrow what I should be doing today. Let's face it, quiet time is rare and valuable these days so perhaps it's not so much procrastination as preservation of my tenuous grasp on sanity (Hey! I am hanging on by a thread, thank you very much!).

Whatever the reason, my work ethic isn't what it used to be. Then again, sometimes creating under pressure brings about moments of brilliance. And sometimes it doesn't, lol. Luckily this time it worked out and I can't wait to get to work on the next book in the Pirates at Heart series titled Sailor's Knot...I'll get right on it...tomorrow :)

What do you put off doing until you absolutely have to?

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Bad Boy Revisited

As I mentioned in Monday's post, I'm hard at work on the sequels to LANDLOCKED. In book two, SMUGGLER'S BLUES, Captain Brett Logan Jr. finds himself a rebel without a cause. The war between the Reformers and the Resistance is over. With no contraband to smuggle and no guns to run, Logan spends his days in domestic bliss with his wife Kate and their sons, Marcus and Nathaniel. Though he has everything a man could ask for, Logan is restless, yearning for the days of adventure and death-defying escapades. When his former first mate, Jacques shows up with a risky business proposal, it's an offer Logan can't--and won't--refuse. Inevitably Logan gets himself in a bind with the law and it's up to Kate to save him, but amidst her outrage and anger, they just might find the spark that's been missing from their relationship for years. Hunted and on the run, Brett and Kate rekindle their romance and rediscover their passion for each other and living outside the law.

Here's a sneak peek at SMUGGLER'S BLUES:


“Captain Logan,” a voice boomed to his left drawing his attention. A corpulent man who was sweating bullets through his velvet waistcoat held out a pudgy, sausage-fingered hand.

Logan took it and firmly pumped it twice before letting go. “You must be Mr. Boudreaux. Pleasure to meet you.”

“Pleasure’s all mine.” The man’s eyes held a wolfish gleam, one Logan was not entirely comfortable with. 
“And please, call me Big Daddy. Everyone does.”

Big Daddy’s hand came to rest on Logan’s shoulder, a toothy grin wrinkled the fat man’s veined cheeks.

Removing the offending hand, Logan shook his head. “If it’s all the same to you, I’ll stick with Mr. Boudreaux.”

“Daddy issues?” The man laughed and snorted.

“You could say that.”

“You can call me whatever you like, just don’t call me late for dinner.”

Logan forced a smile on his face.

“Shall we adjourn to my private booth?”

Leaning over to Jacques, Logan spoke in his first mate’s ear. “If I’m not back in an hour, come rescue me.”

Oui, mon capitaine. “ Jacques threw back a shot.

Logan followed the fat man. “Mr Boudreaux, how is it that you run such an obvious nightclub in the RSA without getting raided and shut down?”

“Captain, I run six such clubs. All it takes is a lot of friends and a lot of bribes.”

Well that made sense. Logan had bought himself out of a scrape or two, but this…this club offered every manner of excess and debauchery. It flew in the face of all the Reformers supposedly held sacred. The body was a temple, sobriety, piety and chastity being their own reward. Yadda, yadda, yadda. Judging from the crowd, there were plenty of Reformed Americans more than ready to befoul their temples.

Big Daddy led the way upstairs to a loft space that held a small bar manned by a bartender who stood at the ready, an enormous horseshoe shaped booth and was staffed by five of the most stunning showgirls Logan had ever seen. The redhead in the group fluttered her fingers at him, a flirtatious hello. Logan dipped his head, trying to be polite.

“I see you like my private stock.” Big Daddy huffed, scooting in to the booth.

“To be honest, it’s all a bit rich for my blood.” Logan took a seat on the opposite end of the horseshoe.

“Is it now? I must’ve gotten some bad information. I’ve heard Captain Loco Logan is quite the wild man.”

The flirty showgirl set a double shot of bourbon in front of Logan and some sort of pink mixed drink in front of Big Daddy. She stood next to Logan, bouncing to the strains of music that filtered up from downstairs.

“It’s true, I used to be, but I’m just an old married man now.”

“Hell, live a little son.” Big Daddy motioned for the girl to get closer to Logan which she hurried to do. “Just cuz you’re on a diet don’t mean you can’t sample the menu.”

“I don’t think that’s how the saying goes.”

The man’s snorting laughter alone made Logan feel dirty, but the girl’s hand skittering up his thigh made him feel even worse. How old was she? Maybe eighteen or nineteen at best?

He caught her hand, shaking his head. “Young lady, I am old enough to be your father.”

“This is Mabel. She has daddy issues too so it’s all right, Captain. What happens at The Tailfeather—”

“Would get me kicked out of my own house and rightfully so.” Logan interrupted. “What’s say we get down to business, Mr. Boudreaux.”

“What ever you’d like, Captain.” With a flick of his hand, Big Daddy dismissed the girl. “Just trying to show you a good time.”

“I get that, but like I said, I’m just on old married man these days.” Logan took a pull from his glass. The smooth bourbon warmed his chest.

“Gotcha.” Big Daddy took a sip of his drink. “So here’s what’s on the table.”

The man went on to detail the complicated supply chain from his distillery in Republic occupied Gulfland to the seven clubs he owned in the RSA. All were located along the Gulf Coast between New Orleans and Tampa. He’d had a steady source for two years until last month when said importer ran afoul of a Reformer AK47.

“The work isn’t without its risks,” Big Daddy drawled, “which is why I’m willing to pay good money.”

“What’s good money to you?”

“Twenty thousand Republic credits a month.”

“Fifty.”

“Oh you’ll have to do a lot more for me than run moonshine for that kind of money, Captain. Twenty-five.”

“Thirty-five and I’ll make the drops to each of your clubs. That way you don’t have to move the stuff over land.”

Big Daddy mulled it over. “Fine. Thirty-five…if my shipments are on time and in tact.”

“Don’t worry about that. I run a tight crew. They’ll be no barrels that come up missing.”

“I’ve heard that about you. I’ve also heard you go where other men fear to tread. You come highly recommended.”

“I get the job done.”

“Then we have an agreement.” Big Daddy held out his hand. Logan shook it brusquely, releasing as quickly as he could.

“I’ll need first month’s payment up front.”

“Mabel, bring Daddy his briefcase from the safe and another round of drinks. We have some celebrating to do.”

A half-hour later Logan descended the stairs, a brand new duffel bag stuffed with Republic credits in tow.

Jacques greeted him with a sly smile. “Is that what I think it is?”

“It is…and then some. I got the motherfucker for thirty-five.”

His grin broadening, Jacques crowed, “Laissez les bons temps roulez.

“Yeah, except let’s get the hell out of here and to a real bar.” Logan settled his black Stetson on his head and sauntered toward the door.

___________________________________________________
Look for SMUGGLER'S BLUES releasing later this year at Ellora's Cave

Haven't read book one LANDLOCKED?

Twitter - @cindyjacks

Monday, November 7, 2011

Sneak Peek at SMUGGLER'S BLUES

Captain Brett Logan from LANDLOCKED is back...and badder than ever!

I'm thrilled to announce a new series with Ellora's Cave titled PIRATES AT HEART. Book two SMUGGLER'S BLUES brings back Captain Brett Logan Jr. and his lovely bride Kate. Book three, SAILOR'S KNOT introduces the new generation of Logan pirates, Brett's sons--Marcus and Nathaniel. Here's a sneak peek at book two. Hope you enjoy the unedited excerpt of my work-in-progress! Stay tuned for covers and release dates!

Excerpt:

From the shine on the hardwood floor, Logan could tell his boot strikes would’ve echoed through the renovated warehouse had it been empty, but the place was far from empty. A gleaming hardwood bar ran the length of the far wall, patrons crammed around it waving whatever payment they had available at the overworked bartenders. Polished brass fixtures hung from regular intervals along the walls which also bore a blood red brocade accented with a wooden chair rail and wainscoting. At least Logan believe it was called wainscoting, but what the hell did he know about interior decorating?

As for the entertainment, it was comprised of showgirls strutting around in elaborate costumes—a topic about which Captain Brett Logan Jr was well verse, at least before he’d met Kate. They wore bejeweled bikinis with ruffled bras and peacock-like feathers hung from their plump backsides. Which made sense, the speakeasy was called The Tailfeather. One slinked by him, offering a private dance, but he declined as he fiddled with his wedding band.

The live band struck up an old Disco number from last millennium and the girls began to shimmy and gyrate in ways that were impossible to ignore. He smiled to himself, letting his gaze roam over the jiggling mounds of flesh for just a second, then turned away. He might be married, but he wasn’t dead from the waist down.

“Captain Logan,” a voice boomed to his left drawing his attention. A corpulent man who was sweating bullets through his velvet waistcoat held out a pudgy, sausage-fingered hand.

Logan took it and firmly pumped it twice before letting go. “You must be Mr. Boudreaux. Pleasure to meet you.”

“Pleasure’s all mine.” The man’s eyes held a wolfish gleam, one Logan was not entirely comfortable with. 

“And please, call me Big Daddy. Everyone does.”

Big Daddy’s hand came to rest on Logan’s shoulder, a toothy grin wrinkled the fat man’s veined cheeks.
Removing the offending hand, Logan shook his head. “If it’s all the same to you, I’ll stick with Mr. Boudreaux.”

“Daddy issues?” The man laughed and snorted.

“You could say that.”

“You can call me whatever you like, just don’t call me late for dinner.”

Logan forced a smile on his face.

“Shall we adjourn to my private booth?”

Leaning over to Jacques, Logan spoke in his first mate’s ear. “If I’m not back in an hour, come rescue me.”

Oui, mon capitaine. “ Jacques threw back a shot.

Logan followed the fat man. “Mr Boudreaux, how is it that you run such an obvious nightclub in the RSA without getting raided and shut down?”

“Captain, I run six such clubs. All it takes is a lot of friends and a lot of bribes.”

Well that made sense. Logan had bought himself out of a scrape or two, but this…this club offered every manner of excess and debauchery. It flew in the face of all the Reformers supposedly held sacred. The body was a temple, sobriety, piety and chastity being their own reward. Yadda, yadda, yadda.

Big Daddy led the way upstairs to a loft space that held a small bar manned by a bartender who stood at the ready, an enormous horseshoe shaped booth and was staffed by five of the most stunning showgirls Logan had ever seen. The redhead in the group fluttered her fingers at him, a flirtatious hello. Logan dipped his head, trying to be polite.

“I see you like my private stock.” Big Daddy huffed, scooting in to the booth.

“To be honest, it’s all a bit rich for my blood.” Logan took a seat on the opposite end of the horseshoe.

“Is it now? I must’ve gotten some bad information. I’ve heard Captain Loco Logan is quite the wild man.”

The flirty showgirl set a double shot of bourbon in front of Logan and some sort of pink mixed drink in front of Big Daddy. She stood next to Logan, bouncing to the strains of music that filtered up from downstairs.

“It’s true, I used to be, but I’m just an old married man now.”

“Hell, live a little son.” Big Daddy motioned for the girl to get closer to Logan which she hurried to do. “Just cuz you’re on a diet don’t mean you can’t sample the menu.”

“I don’t think that’s how the saying goes.”

The man’s snorting laughter alone made Logan feel dirty, but the girl’s hand skittering up his thigh made him feel even worse. How old was she? Maybe eighteen or nineteen at best?

He caught her hand, shaking his head. “Young lady, I am old enough to be your father.”

“This is Mabel. She has daddy issues too so it’s all right, Captain. What happens at The Tailfeather—”

“Would get me kicked out of my own house and rightfully so.” Logan interrupted. “What’s say we get down to business, Mr. Boudreaux.”

“What ever you’d like, Captain.” With a flick of his pasty hand, Big Daddy dismissed the girl. “Just trying to show you a good time.”

“I get that, but like I said, I’m just on old married man these days.” Logan took a pull from his glass. The smooth bourbon warmed his chest.

“Gotcha.” Big Daddy took a sip of his drink. “So here’s what’s on the table.”

The man went on to detail the complicated supply chain from his distillery in Republic occupied Gulfland to the seven clubs he owned in the RSA. All were located along the Gulf Coast between New Orleans and Tampa. He’d had a steady source for two years until last month when said importer ran afoul of a Reformer AK47.

“The work isn’t without its risks,” Big Daddy drawled, “which is why I’m willing to pay good money.”

“What’s good money to you?”

“Twenty thousand Republic credits a month.”

“Fifty.”

“Oh you’ll have to do a lot more for me than run moonshine for that kind of money, Captain. Twenty-five.”

“Thirty-five and I’ll make the drops to each of your clubs. That way you don’t have to move the stuff over land.”

Big Daddy mulled it over. “Fine. Thirty-five…if my shipments are on time and in tact.”

“Don’t worry about that. I run a tight crew. They’ll be no barrels that come up missing.”

“I’ve heard that about you. I’ve also heard you go where other men fear to tread. You come highly recommended.”

“I get the job done.”

“Then we have an agreement.” Big Daddy held out his hand. Logan shook it brusquely, releasing as quickly as he could.

“I’ll need first month’s payment up front.”

“Mabel, bring Daddy his briefcase from the safe and another round of drinks. We have some celebrating to do.”

A half-hour later Logan descended the stairs, a brand new duffel bag stuffed with Republic credits in tow.

Jacques greeted him with a sly smile. “Is that what I think it is?”

“It is…and then some. I got the motherfucker for thirty-five.”

His grin broadening, Jacques crowed, “Laissez les bons temps roulez.

“Yeah, except let’s get the hell out of here and to a real bar.” Logan settled his black Stetson on his head and sauntered toward the door.
_____________________________________________
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