Queen of Angst. Deity of Hurt and Comfort. Bestselling Author.
Three titles I'm working towards * Winking Face Emoji *
I love all-consuming MM love stories. The kind where someone pines from across a room they're not allowed to cross. Where someone waits five years and never stops. Where a feral brat ties you to a bed and rewires your entire identity. Where a monster learns to be a man because one person made him want to try.
One true love, always. Whether it's slow and aching or chaotic and unhinged, my characters fall hard and they fall forever.
I aim to write the kind of stories that keep you up way too late, crying into your pillow at 3am and swearing you're fine. You're not fine. Neither am I. That's the whole point.
When I'm not writing, I'm probably reading something that's destroying me emotionally, because fictional pain is exquisite.
I'm not new to this. I've been writing MM romance for years under another name. This is just where I let the darkness in.
I hope you enjoy it.
Love,
Jessica Jackman.
(Scroll down to see my books)
The only man I want is the one man I can’t have.
Molly is beautiful. Feisty. Sensual. Passionate.
A pretty boy who knows his trade.
He is also the very epitome of high-maintenance. Rude. Stroppy. Always aiming to unnerve people with his brazen words and attitude.
It makes me want to hold him tight and show him he doesn't need to put on an act. Not with me.
But he belongs to my boss. And when your boss is a mafia capo, that’s a line you do not cross.
My role is to guard Molly. Keep him safe. Stop him running away. Prevent anyone from knowing my boss has a boy.
I’m not supposed to crave him.
I’m just supposed to watch him. Day after day. Night after night.
Watch and never touch.
I'm his jailer.
He's my damnation.
Prison took him from me. Love is bringing him home.
Liam was supposed to be invincible. Popular, brilliant, destined for greatness. The golden boy who was going to escape our rough neighborhood and conquer the world. I was just the loyal sidekick, happy to bask in his light.
Then one stormy night shattered everything. A fatal crash. A girl's life lost. My best friend behind bars.
For five years, he refused every letter, every visit.
For five years, I built myself into someone worthy of his return. Someone powerful enough to protect him, successful enough to give him anything he needed.
The day he walks out of those prison gates, I'm waiting.
But the broken boy who emerges isn't the king I remember. He is too thin. His hair is too long. He can’t look anyone in the eye. He talks in the faintest of whispers and jumps at his own shadow.
And at night he clings to me because I smell of safety and home.
It doesn't matter. He's still mine to protect. Still the other half of my soul.
Some people think love is about the fall. But real love? Real love is about holding on when everything else lets go. It's about building a home in each other's hearts and refusing to leave, no matter how long the winter lasts.
Underneath all that trauma, he's still my Liam. Still the person I'd move heaven and earth for.
Now we have to learn how to be us again. How to heal together. How to build something beautiful from the wreckage of what we lost.
Some love stories are about falling. Ours is about never letting go.
I don’t care how cute he is, I’m going to kill him.
He tricked me. Drugged me and tied me to his goddamn bed.
I’m used to being respected. Feared. Obeyed.
Not…this.
I’ve always liked my best friend’s crazy little brother. I worry about him because being a femboy in a mafia family isn’t safe.
But he has gone too far. He can’t disrespect me like this.
He’s still cute, though.
And, oh lord, that mouth of his.
I swore I was I straight man. Now he’s making me rethink things. Which the little minx says was his plan all along.
This feral brat thinks we are destined to be together, and after a few nights in his bed, I’m beginning to see the appeal. Having him in my bed is not a terrible idea.
So when this is all over and I escape… do I kill him?
Or do I keep him?
Redemption. Forgiveness. Love
Three things I don’t deserve. Three things I crave. Three things I’ve set my sights on.
Dylan O’Shea will be mine.
He’s prey to my predator. He’s seen the darkest side of me. He’s the one.
I locked him in my basement and unleashed all my depravity. All of my inhumanity.
I didn’t believe his cries. Who would?
You’ve got the wrong man. I’m not Declan. I’m his twin brother.
The twin brother nobody knew about. Hidden away because he was soft. And gay.
Tortured by me for his brother daring to steal from the mob. When all along Dylan was innocent.
Now I need to grovel. I need to make amends.
I’ve broken him. Now I have to fix him.
The wrong man… is my right man.
Life on an oil rig in the North Sea is no joke.
Add in a supervisor who is as grumpy as hell and making our lives a nightmare because he’s not been laid in months, and you get…
Well, you get a drunken card game with the crew, where the loser has to go offer himself to the supervisor and take one for the team.
I’ve never been a loser, but apparently there is a first time for everything.
So here I am, knocking on the boss’s door.
When he answers wearing just a towel, my mind measures my manliness against his and concludes, yep. Time to roll over.
Looks like the oil isn’t the only thing getting drilled.
FML.
