Author Feature With Cindy Jacks


Dear Readers,

Please welcome Cindy Jacks AKA C.J. Elliott, who writes a variety of different genres and flavors. This is a little bit more about Cindy:

Prior to becoming a writer of romantic and erotic fiction, Cindy went to college at the University of Hawaii at Manoa and graduated with a BFA in Art. After a brief attempt at an art career, she decided the ‘starving artist’ life wasn’t for her. She worked for ten years in the corporate arena, but now spends her days as a full time author.

Her first published work was inspired by a collection of short stories she wrote to entertain her best friend. Since then she's explored her inner bad girl, producing books full of humor, packed with real emotion and sexy love scenes. As CJ Elliott, she writes thrillers and paranormal erotic romance.

When not chained to her laptop, she enjoys belly dancing, international cooking, and making jewelry. She and her family make their home in the Washington, DC area.

Cindy's latest release: Love Game 

Battling housework, Sandi wonders if the spark in her marriage has disappeared. When her husband interrupts their hot-shower lovin’ to take a call from work, she’s positive the magic is gone.

In an attempt to spice things up, she gets a makeover and sets a date with her hubby for a night of passion and romance. There’s only one problem—Roberto doesn’t show. But all is not lost. Alejandro, a silver-tongued Latin loverboy wrapped in an expensive suit, volunteers to keep her company for the evening. He says all the right—and deliciously wrong—things, leaving Sandi no choice but to see him again…and again and again.

One by one, Alejandro strips away her inhibitions, pushing her to act out her darkest fantasies, desires so privateshe’s never mentioned them to anyone, not even her husband. Blindfolds, bondage with silk ropes, sex on the roof—nothing is off limits. But everything is not as it seems. The game’s afoot—a love game—rekindling the scorching-hot passion in Sandi and Roberto’s marriage.


An Excerpt From Love Game

Copyright © CINDY JACKS, 2011

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

The clock above the bar read quarter of six. Typical Roberto, running late. I kept an eye on the door to no avail. Frustrated, I turned back to my cosmopolitan. My cell phone buzzed, alerting me a text message had arrived.

Can’t make it 2 Soledad. Stuck n mtg. Lo siento. Luv R--

Well didn’t that just beat all? New hair, new dress, new shoes, new Sandra. Same old Roberto. I felt foolish, all dolled up and no one to care I’d gone through the effort. The Brazilian wax had been no picnic.

“Pardon me, Miss,” a deep but familiar voice murmured from behind me. “I hope I’m not being too forward, but when I saw you I thought to myself, I have to tell her what a vision she is.”

I turned to face the man who addressed me, my mouth open to reply but he shook his head.

“No. Please, don’t say anything. I’m sure a woman of your beauty has a man who loves her very much. I just wanted to tell you how lovely you are.”

I burst out laughing.

“Too much?” He flashed a self-deprecating smile. “My name is Alejandro.”

His boldness caught me off guard, but then I thought, why not play along? “Hi, Alejandro. I’m Sandra.”

Mucho gusto, Sandra.” He took my hand and dipped his head to me.

Yo también,” I replied. It was nice to meet him as well.

“Oh, you speak Spanish?”

“A little. My husband is from El Salvador.”

“Your husband. Yes, I see…you do have a ring on your finger. How sad for me. How lucky for him.”

“I guess so. He’s supposed to meet me here.”

“Is this your way of telling me to beat it?”

“Not really. Since he’s not coming.”

He leaned against the bar. “This may be bad form to ask, but can I sit with you? Just to keep you company.”

I debated with myself, but decided there was no harm in a little conversation. “Sure, have a seat.”

Gracias, señora. May I order another drink for you?” He motioned to my nearly empty cosmo.

“Maybe one more. I have to drive home.”

Alejandro hailed the bartender and ordered a round of drinks—another cosmopolitan for me, tequila on the rocks for him.

“May I ask your occupation?”

“I’m just a stay-at-home mom.”

A quizzical look passed across his face. The bartender brought our drinks and Alejandro took a sip from his.

“Why would you understate such an important job?” he asked.

I arched an eyebrow. “Are you condescending to me?”

“Not at all. I believe it was Mao Tse-Tung who said, ‘Women hold up the other half of the sky.’”

“I’m sure it’s the half that needs to be laundered.”

Alejandro chuckled. The timbre of his laugh caught me off guard with its rich sincerity.

Que chistosita tu eres.

“I’m glad you find me amusing.”

“Please, reply to me in Spanish. Clearly, you can.”

“No, I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not very good at speaking Spanish. For some reason I understand more than I can speak,” I explained.

“So, you can practice with me.”

“No, thanks.”

“Why not?”

I took a sip from my drink, unsure if I wanted to be candid. But what was the point of indulging in the company of a stranger if not to take chances?

“I make a lot of grammatical errors. My husband makes fun of my Spanish.”

Perdoname, forgive me for saying this, but what kind of man would mock you for trying?”

My cheeks flamed. I hadn’t meant to bad-mouth Roberto and yet, part of me agreed with him. I made an honest effort to learn Spanish, so why did Roberto poke fun instead of helping me?

“I’ve touched a nerve. I’m sorry,” Alejandro said.

“No. It’s okay. I was thinking about what you said. Maybe I agree with you. I suppose that’s hard for me to admit.”

“I’m sure. You love your husband?”

“I do.”

“And he is a good man?” he asked.

“Yes, very.”

“Then, it is hard to admit he has faults.”

“I suppose.”

“He’s a lucky man.”

“Alejandro,” I said, “could we talk about something else?”

Por supuesto. What would you like to talk about?”

I huffed a laugh. “I don’t really know… How about you? What do you do?”

“I run the family business. I import coffee from El Salvador and Costa Rica.”

“You have family there?”


I paused to take another drink from my cosmopolitan. My mind drew a blank, I couldn’t think of anything else to ask this handsome man. At least nothing appropriate. I sneaked a glance at Alejandro and his dark brown gaze fixed on me. An arrogant smirk crossed his lips.

“I like you, Sandra.” His fingertips brushed mine. “And I think you like me. Am I wrong?”

“I don’t even know you,” I replied.

“What would you like to know?”

“I-I don’t know. It’s not like I can just pull out a list of questions…”

“I’ve made you uncomfortable.”

“A little, yeah.”

He dipped his head. “My apologies.”

“Apology accepted.”

“And there’s no possibility we can be friends?”

I took a breath. Could we be friends? “I don’t know.”

“But you’ll think about it?”

After fishing a twenty out of my purse, I placed it on the bar and slid off the barstool. “Thank you for keeping me company.”

“Wait. Where are you going?” He pushed the money back to me.

“Home. I’m going home. Thanks again for the company.”

His hand caught mine and I flinched at the contact.

“Please, let me go,” I said.

He released my hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t want you to leave like this. Please, stay. We can keep talking.”

“I don’t like the direction of the conversation.”

“And again I find myself offering an apology. I promise, I’ll behave myself.”

I sank back onto the barstool. “As long as you promise.”

“Of course. Let’s see, safe topics of conversation… Do you have any children?”

“One son. He’s five. And you?”

“No, I haven’t found the right woman to settle down with.”

“That doesn’t mean you don’t have any children.”

He chuckled. “Yes, this is true, but I don’t have any or as you say here, ‘none that I know of.’”

We continued talking about inconsequential things. Mostly he let me talk about myself. No doubt my life bored him to tears, but if it did, he didn’t show it. His side of the conversation consisted of superlative interjections and polite questions posed here and there. More than once he broke out in laughter or gave me a heart-stopping smile. After about an hour, I checked my watch.

“My god, is that really the time?” I jumped up. “I’m sorry to run out, but I really have to go.”

“I wish you didn’t have to. How will I see you again?” he asked.

“You probably won’t.”

“That can’t be. Come on. Name the time and the place.”

A shiver ran through me. What was this guy’s game? One look at his dark eyes and I went all gooey inside. A flutter of intrigue rose in my stomach at the thought of seeing him again.

“Maybe I’ll turn up here some other day,” I said.


I shrugged. “Who knows?”

With that, I walked away, knowing his eyes followed my retreat.

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