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[ M/M STANDALONES ]
Exiled
Sweet Wicked Thing - Coming soon!
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thank YOU most of all, for picking up and reading this book. Whether you’re new here to my work, or have been around since the beginning, and everyone in between. I couldn’t do any of this without you. Love you all.
Heather, for being the best editor, cheerleader, and friend I could ask for. Thanks for the help with the blurb and all rounds of edits that went into this to accommodate for Mason’s chaos.
My betas who read the first version of this—Kayla, Nat, Tasha, Gloria, and Amy. I totally went rogue on you with the added Mason content. Oops.
Kayla, for holding down the fort while I’m in my cave. You’re the best, and I’m so glad to have you as a friend. Keep it up with those polls! Make the people suffer.
My ST, the Wailers. I up and disappear on y’all a lot, but you’re always there when I need you, and I appreciate you all to no end.
Last but not least—music. I don’t typically listen when I write, but music is truly what fuels this series. Writing these character—musicians, in particular—made me fall in love with music in a way I never was before. I appreciate it in a way I didn’t think I could. So shout out to fucking music. I get it now.
HAVE YOU READ EXILED YET?
Flip the page for look at Jessie’s newest standalone*, a contemporary M/M age gap romance with lots of heat and hurt, forced proximity, bisexual awakening, autism rep, mental health rep, and addiction rep.
Available now on Amazon
*While part of a shared world/multi-author series, The Unlucky 13, each book can be fully read as a standalone.
Triggers for all of Jessie’s work, includingExiled,can be found on her website, linked below.
Content Warnings
CHAPTER ONE
NOLAN
A storm is moving in.
Here on the island, they pass by pretty quickly.
But they can be brutal. Devastating.
I sit under a cluster of palm trees with my denim-clad legs kicked out in front of me, feet bare, toes half-buried in the sand. It seems softer back here in the shade. Silky. Cool. Untouched by the sun. I cup the sand in my hands, glance down, and watch it slip through my fingers.
Thunder rolls closer now than it was moments ago, mingling with the sound of the waves crashing against the cliffs, slamming onto the beach. A strong breeze blows through, and the palm trees draped above me brush together, swaying, emerald green against the bruised sky. In the distance, the hazy, butter-yellow sun disappears between a thick swatch of storm clouds.
I’m alone, just how I prefer it. How I always have, but especially here.
Well, with the exception of Abby of course.
My chest tightens at the reminder.
I’d take never being alone again, if it meant having her at my side.
More thunder rumbles, quiet but lingering. A drop of moisture hits my foot and I look up, squinting through the fronds as more raindrops slip through, the palm trees unable to hold the water any better than I could hold the sand.
Somewhere far away, past the trees and rocky knolls hiding this little hidden cove, a voice calls out, followed by laughter. Genuine laughter. On this side of the island, it’s not often you hear such a sound. Not when there’s this pervasive sort of heaviness pressing down around us, like a black cloud we can’t seem to escape.
That’s rehab for you.
