Jaspers Darlin's

Show Me Yours

Jackson Rathbone was at the top of his game, but he needed more. He never dreamed he'd find it in a guarded author....in an airport; through a series of bad-luck mishaps.
In spite of her namesake, Juliet Jones is a cynic when it comes to love. Especially 'love at first sight'. How far will Jackson have to go to make a believer of her?

Now, before I get into the nitty gritty, lemme just tell you that I am not one for RPF. That said, who the hell doesn't love a little Jackson in their life? I know I sure as hell do! Either way, this little fic is only eight chapters in, but boy, is it addicting already. It's heavy on the snark and even heavier on the laughs. Juliet's inner monologue has me rolling -literally- on the floor. And poor Jackson, with his southern charm, Momma complex, and a cold that just won't quit. 
“I do OK. You mean you don't recognize me or anything?” he asks, sitting up straight and gives me his best 'Blue Steel' look. While my inner HO says she prefers 'Magnum'.  Slut.

Seriously?! Too good. But it's definitely not all fun and games. There's already a bit of heartfail and I'm totally ashamed of how many tissues I've been through. I'm not giving anything away, though. All you need to know is that you need to get your Germ-X out for the first few chapters and make sure to lock up that verbal filter that the characters seemed to have lost. Oh! And don't forget those tissues and maybe a few Depends adult diapers 'cause you'll go from laughing until you pee yourself to tears in 1.6 seconds. 
I can't help myself. When I'm upset or pissed off...I rant. Right now...I'm both. The problem is, the more I rant, the more worked up I get.....

“No clothes, no wallet, no phone....and I wake up with fucking stitches in my head. This is some urban legend shit, right here. This is why your Momma doesn't want you talking to strangers. But did I listen to Momma? No I didn't....only I had to take it step further and sleep with one!” I sink down to the bed...feeling a little defeated myself. Not to mention scared, and angry.

“Fuck! This is SO bad, this is like Stephen-King-novel-bad.” I muse aloud.

“Is that what you think this is?” She yells. My head snaps up at the sound of her voice.

“You think this is like 'Misery'...but in reverse? Cuz I've got news for ya cowboy! I'M the author in this little scenario, so if anybody should fear the bludgeoning of their limbs here, it's me! Once again, though, you had to 'take it a step further' and got my fucking heart instead! Congratulations. You're fucking awesome with a sledgehammer.”
I'm seriously not giving any more away. You'll just have to go on over to her blog and read it for yourself!


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