How does the heiress to an empire built on Ronald Reagan's favourite candy end up embroiled in a spree of gory art world murders in a post-AIDS early 2000s queer hellscape? Can she redeem herself for her crimes against Black queer humanity by being whisked away to a mysterious psychosexual desert techno-cult of Black 'lesbian' celebrities, slowly being taken over by alien bodysnatchers?

Dr. Emily Bean is a hot twenty-something Black it-girl bimbette art-heaux academic fucking her psychotic elderly narcissist 80s-famous white lesbian painter girlfriend, & is generally that girl. Little does she know, she's about to embark on a psychedelic whirlwind adventure across America the likes of which the world has never seen.

Jellybean & The Motherfuckers will take you on an insatiably horny (& bloody) two-part satirical odyssey through parallel art worlds & beyond, unearthing the most supple titillating & moist gooey sugary sweet center of everything it takes to fully realise your wildest dreams & wettest nightmares.

‘Hypnotic and so, so hot—a stunning vortex of thought, speculation, sex squalls and madcap criticism. Jellybean & The Motherfuckers is a book that demands to be read, discussed, and ultimately: submitted to.’
- Jordy Rosenberg, author of Confessions of the Fox

‘Revolution. Murder. Expertly executed soul-cleaving backseat ejaculation, and an annoying young lover who won’t stop banging on about sex. What happens when all the parts of a person are divided up, have their wants and needs turned up to twenty, are placed into various homunculi—wearing the form of an intellectual, celebrity or otherwise—and then you simply let the simulation run, intrusive thoughts and all?
Hell has taken us here. To planet Earth, where all the fluid and jelly and sadness and sex of living in life with guns and books and crushes and lodgers and even supermodels happens. It is silly, it is kindly, it is monstrous and it is soothing. And as the fictional Andrea Fraser says, “I think it’s obviously dangerous…”’
— Carle Gent, author of The Balls of Alban

‘Jellybean & The Motherfuckers, like the world it captures, threatens to come apart at the seams. Somewhere between an art-world satire, a skewering of parasocial celebrity, and an apocalyptic disaster where no-one (whether real or fake) is safe, Jellybean & The Motherfuckers is a book from hell, from a singularly talented writer.’
— Sam Moore, author of All my Teachers Died of AIDS

‘Jellybean & the Motherfuckers takes the beloved tropes of lesbian pulp straight to hell—the mommy issues, the intergenerational academic affairs, the longing of literary sapphism—with such murderous glee that what emerges from the flames is something entirely new: a Black Power neo-noir that cuts the punk nihilism of Sarah Schulman’s After Delores with the iconoclastic meta-feminism of Erika Lopez’s Flaming Iguanas through the spiritual erotics of Ann Allen Shockley’s Say Jesus and Come to Me. Finally, a book to match the kaleidoscopic rolodexing of lesbian life—where there is no such thing as excess, only an infinite scroll of exes. Hushed tones; knowing glances; the chic off-hand glamour of lavender name drop edging Angela Davis Marina Abramović Kara Walker Sandra OHHHH! All of sexuality burns when we’re looking for revenge sweeter than honey, when we’re breaking silences with righteous HOWLS, when we’re deep inside the sapphic social blur, which in Jordan /_ Hell’s latex-covered hand is a wicked accelerant for fiction.’
—Maxe Crandall, author of The Nancy Reagan Collection

‘Art world gossip column? Psycho-sexual murder mystery? Epic intergalactic chronicle? Premonitions of a sage? How to encapsulate a book of such Black lesbian maximalism? Insatiably gossipy & murderously horny, Hell’s visionary fan-fic-fuelled saga digests the erratic delirium of academia, pop culture and the art world in today’s spiral toward apocalypse. His prose is an unstoppable torrent of ejaculate, spewing forth from the body with obscene fervour, producing—like at the climax of a cataclysmic orgasm—a saturated onslaught of images that ends in the mystic revelations of post-nut clarity.’
— Donna Marcus Duke, TISSUE

‘My one blurb of the year goes once again to Jordan /_ Hell: Hallelujah!’
— Shola von Reinhold, author of LOTE