Eye of the Sh*t Storm by Jackson Ford (most romantic novels .txt) 📕

I take a step back, and when my legs bump the chair behind me, I sit down hard.

My brother and my sister step into the room, and stand side by side before me.

“It’s good to see you, Emily,” Chloe says. “We need to talk.”

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Hey. Teagan here.

Jackson Ford is currently passed out drunk on the couch behind me after only his second pineapple daiquiri. I’ve drawn a dick on his face. He had it coming.

Unfortunately, we are on deadline, and he hasn’t done his acknowledgements for the third book in a row. So once again, it’s up to me. I’m kind of hungry right now, so I may or may not end up comparing everyone in these acknowledgements to food. Sorry not sorry.

Ed Wilson, Jackson’s agent, is a grilled cheese sandwich. There isn’t a single situation that a grilled cheese sandwich can’t fix, and the same could be said for Ed. However, he’s English, so he’d probably serve the sandwich with Branston pickle or something. I think we’d all agree that’s a crime against nature. Don’t do it, Ed.

Anna Jackson and Nadia Saward are peanut butter and jelly. The perfect combo, the ultimate editorial tag team. Together, they made this book thousand times better, and they even managed to remove the time-travelling unicorn samurai from eighteenth-century Japan that showed up halfway through. Oh, and since the last book, Anna Jackson has actually transcended the editorial world and become the literal head publisher of Orbit Books. And she hasn’t even reached her final form yet. Go, Anna, go.

Bradley Englert, editor at Orbit US, also had a hand in this. He’s a New Yorker, so clearly he is pastrami on rye. If there’s one thing that New York can do better than Los Angeles – and there aren’t many – it’s deli.

Joanna Kramer, managing editor at Orbit, is Maldon sea salt. A super-crunchy, delicious garnish that brings a dish together, finishing everything up nicely.

Nazia Khatun and Ellen Wright, publicity, are another great combo. I’m going to go with salt and vinegar, the greatest potato chip flavour known to man. On their own, they are both great. But put them together, and you’ve really got a party.

Madeleine Hall, marketing, is one of those really yummy garnishes you get on plates at five-star restaurants. Deep fried garlic chips, maybe. Or glazed carrots. Something that helps sell the whole meal.

Sophie Harris did the cover. Which makes her an onion. Don’t knock onions, man. Without them, the whole kit and caboodle falls apart.

Saxon Bullock is a clove of garlic. Garlic is an annoying ingredient. It’s irritating to peel, and a pain in the ass to chop. It makes your fingers all sticky. And yet, without it, things just wouldn’t work. You can never have enough garlic, and Jackson can never have enough of Saxon’s copy-editing. He might swear and rage and threaten to sue, but ultimately, he does what Saxon tells him to. Because Saxon is brilliant. A pain in the ass, but brilliant.

All right, you know what? Now I’m starving, and I just realised that I have a whole lot more people to thank. My world has gotten a lot bigger over the past couple of years, which means more people had a hand in making it awesome. So I’m going to go grab a snackie and pick this up later, without the awkward food metaphors.

OK, back. Made myself a grilled cheese sandwich in the end. Never mess with the classics.

A big fist bump to the Hachette Audio Division, for making my audiobooks so incredible. Louise Harvey, Pavel Rivera, Lauren Patten and Jesse Vilinsky. If you haven’t heard them yet, you are missing out on some of the best audiobook reads ever recorded. I’m a totally unbiased observer obviously.

While he was writing this book, Jackson relied on several experts to help him get things right. Chances are he screwed it up anyway. It’s his fault, not theirs. Wyatt Turney helped out with the science of electricity, and Michael Atkins talked at length with him about the LA River. Ross Howard helped with Spanish translation. Dr Vee Wilson used her experience as a spinal rehab specialist to help Jackson get the details right for Reggie’s disability, and used her experience as Jackson’s mom to repeatedly remind him that she brought him into this world, and by God and sunny Jesus she can take him out of it.

Also, a big thank you to Danielle Kozak. She knows why.

Nia Howard attempted to stop Jackson from making a complete fool of himself when it came to writing about the black American experience. Chances are he’s still made a complete fool of himself, but that isn’t Nia’s fault. Thanks also to Starr Waddell at Quiet House.

Alisha Grauso usually performs a fact check for Jackson, helping make sure that his details of Los Angeles are correct. Recently, however, she adopted two cats, Boo and Keats. It turns out they were much better at the job than she ever was, so we fired her and hired them. It was the best decision we’ve ever made. Thanks, Boo and Keats. The cheque is in the mail. Be nice to your human.

As always, Jackson sent early versions of this book to a few select people, because he secretly hates them. A big thank you to George Kelly and Werner Schutz for their comments, and to Jackson’s wife, Nicole Simpson. I think we can all agree that she’s the real hero here. She also happens to be the designer of the maps at the front of my books. That’s her handwriting. Jackson’s, predictably, is drunk-spider-chicken-scratch.

To every blogger, bookstagrammer, YouTuber and podcaster who has talked about this series, and anybody who has spread the word to their friends: I love you. I really and truly love you. I’m going to name a salad after you.

Oh hey! Almost forgot. They’re making this series into a TV show. By the time you read this, I might be on screen, played by Bradley Cooper. Or