Jacksons Island Novels & Stories

Isabella had started dating Jackson five years ago, back when he lived just a few blocks from her late uncle’s house. Back then, seeing him had been effortless—stolen moments after school, late-night walks, and whispered conversations that stretched until dawn. Unfortunately, everything changed two years ago when Jackson was transferred for work to a different city—New York City. The distance had turned their relationship into a cycle of calls, texts, and occasional visits, each reunion feeling shorter than the last. Over the past two years, Isabella had visited Jackson occasionally, but never once had she stopped by to see her mother.

"Believe me, I know. This is fucked up enough without anything else happening." She nodded quickly. "Good. I just wanted to... make sure you knew." "I definitely know," Mark replied. "Good. Shall we disembark then?" Jasmine smiled. "Go and explore paradise? We can run through the rest of your schedule later." Mark squared his shoulders and nodded. "Okay." Jasmine led him up the gangplank onto the pier where the first person to step forward was Henry, an elderly gent in his early sixties. They shook hands. "Welcome to the Island, Master Whitney," Henry said, his accent like the stiff upper lip British you'd hear in an old sitcom like Fawlty Towers.

Joker asked. “The Island is a place that houses several facilities. There’s Pink Velvet, which is a basic whore house and training facility. Then there is the Pleasure Palace where women who aren’t bought at auction after three tries go. They’re there to service elite members and provide them with children from good stock and then there’s Dark Desires. Dark Desires is for people like me who won’t submit. I can’t even begin to describe the things that happen there. All I can say is that there have been three people who have died while living in the facility.” She said, sighing.

Jason commented, leaning forward, his focus instantly sharpening. "The coordinates and landmarks converge on a single, remote location," Jamal reported. "It’s an island off the coast, about two hundred miles north.” “Okay, send me the coordinates.” Jason instructed. The call ended. Not long after, his computer on the table pinged, showing a message from Jamal white who had sent him the coordinates to where the map was. Jason pulled up the coordinates on his secure terminal, fingers moving with practiced precision across the keyboard. The satellite image loaded within seconds, a small, rocky island jutting from the Atlantic, unremarkable to most eyes.

Peace lasted for exactly three days before the chaos started again. But this time, it was a happy kind of chaos. "No, absolutely not," Serenity rubbed her temples, looking at the tablet Jackson handed her. "Jackson, we cannot rent the Statue of Liberty for a private reception." "Why not?" Jackson sat at his desk, signing checks without looking. "I already called the Mayor. He owes me a favor." "Because it's a national monument!" Serenity sighed. "Fine," Jackson swiped to the next slide. "How about a private island in the Caribbean? I can fly in 500 guests on private jets."

"Though some history is worth revisiting, don't you think?" Jackson's hand found mine under the table. Squeezed hard. "How long are you in Chicago?" I asked, desperate to change the subject. "I'm flexible. A few weeks, at least. Through Valentine's Day, certainly." Valentine's Day. Two weeks away. Our next scheduled event. "That's a long vacation," Jackson said. "I needed a break. And I wanted to see you." She looked right at him, ignoring me completely. "Make sure you're happy. That you've really moved on."

Jackson flashes next to the moving dot. And it’s not standing still. Jackson is on the move.

As I finish my drink, I hear Jackson greet guests on the deck. “Showtime,” Kennedy sings as she opens the doors for the guests. Jackson enters, followed by a slender red-head and a tall, tan, blonde man. He motions to the couple. “This is Red and Isaac.” Jackson extends his arm toward me. “And this is Taylor.” The redhead extends her right hand. Her grip is firm and succinct. “I'm Madison. Jackson likes to push my buttons by calling me Red.” Her eyes move from Jackson back to mine. “Nice to finally meet you.”

Jackson was sure that his security team appreciated the change of pace as well. Jackson stepped outside onto a porch overlooking the water. The party was held at the yacht club clubhouse, so the view was amazing. The second story porch jutted out over the docks where million dollar boats bobbed in the cool night air. Most everyone was inside enjoying the party, but Jackson wanted a moment to himself to check in with Emma. He could see her F******k status was active, so he knew she was awake. “How’s your show?” he asked when she picked up the phone.

"Are you not going to quit your job?" "Honey,my job is very important, I need to pay back what the Bueneva Family made for me" Jackson was saved by James before. They meet in island before. James plane crashed on the sea near the Island. While Jackson was captured by unknown people some years ago, they are working in a mine in the deep forest in that Island. The armed people saw a plane crashed and a parachute going down from the sky. The leader of the armed people search for the person of at the parachute. When they found the person they took him and joined the slaves, this was James. They meet in that place. They suffered and have lots of wounds. James always motivate me that time that som