Eric Ross: Blog

The mountains almost claimed her. But she turned back.

In the intimate interlude before this chapter, Coco stood at the edge—literally and emotionally. A torn train ticket. A moment of near-departure. And a quiet decision: not to run, but to try. Not forever, but tomorrow.

Now, in Chapter 9 of Afterglow, Ginger and Coco seek warmth in the frozen stillness of the Swiss Alps. What begins as a snow-drenched hike ends in a firelit lodge where skin meets fur, truth meets touch, and Coco opens more than her body—she cracks her heart wide.

This is the chapter where heat is not just erotic—it’s emotional. Where trust is tested not through grand declarations, but through whispered permission. Where the line between desire and devotion burns soft and deep.

And when Coco says, “I don’t want to be careful with you anymore,” it’s not just foreplay. It’s surrender.

Read Chapter 9: Fire in the Snow

Eric

Ready for something huge? I’ve just released Jack and the Bean Queen, a steamy, oversized romp that takes the classic beanstalk tale and gives it a throbbing, magical upgrade.

In this version, Jack doesn’t just climb a stalk—he seduces a giantess, invents enchanted sex toys, and somehow finds himself in a very wet, very consensual triad with a sultry tavern singer and a divine, frustrated queen.

Expect:

- A towering giantess with thighs like thunderclouds and a laugh that shakes the rafters

- A magic vibrator that adapts to your needs (and hers)

- A beanstalk that’s… let’s just say, not subtle

- A fairytale ending that involves polyamory, orgasms, and a shop full of whispering contraptions

Filthy, funny, and unapologetically size-kinky.

So if you like your erotica bold, enchanted, and gleefully excessive—this one’s for you.

And remember... sometimes, the best treasures are the ones moaning your name at the top of the stalk.

Eric

Before the snow. Before the Alps. Before they even make it to Switzerland—Coco nearly leaves.

This interlude in Afterglow falls between chapters, but it lands like a punch. Ginger and Coco are en route to the next leg of their whirlwind romance—train tickets in hand, mountains waiting—but one cold morning, Coco slips out of the cabin alone.

What follows is not a breakup. Not exactly. It’s something quieter: a reckoning. A moment on a frosted train platform where words become confessions and staying becomes a choice, not a given. Coco lays bare the fear beneath her wildness—the fear of being held, not just wanted. Of becoming real in someone else’s life.

She doesn’t promise forever. But in the chill before the train arrives, she does something braver.

She chooses tomorrow.

Here's the Interlude: The Almost Goodbye

Eric

There’s a special kind of fun in twisting a fairy tale into something shamelessly erotic. Take the bones of the familiar—cloaks, wolves, woodsmen—and ask:

What if Red Riding Hood didn’t run from the Wolf?
What if she made him beg?
What if the Woodsman had more than just a big axe to offer?
And what if Granny… wasn’t quite as innocent as she seemed?

When the Red Cloak Comes Off is a playful, wicked retelling where Red is no helpless maiden. She’s a tavern singer with a velvet voice, a taste for danger, and zero patience for men who can’t keep up. The Wolf? Submissive, smoldering, and soon brought to heel. The well-endowed Woodsman? More than happy to help. And Granny? She’s in on the game—and insists they wash the sheets.

It’s filthy, funny, and possibly a little bit feminist.

Because some stories don’t end with “happily ever after.”

Some end with ruined sheets—and an encore.

Eric

Some milestones call for more than flowers or dinner reservations. For Ginger, six months with Coco feels like something worth crossing oceans for. In Chapter 8 of Afterglow, we sail into deeper waters—both literal and emotional—as he whisks her away to the Aegean for a week aboard a yacht near Santorini.

It’s romantic, decadent, sun-drenched. Champagne at altitude. Salt on bare skin. Bioluminescent plankton lighting up midnight swims. There’s laughter, gifts, and the kind of touch that feels like it might mean more than just want. And beneath it all, that vulnerable, terrifying shift—when lust begins to look like love.

But even paradise has shadows. As the stars blaze above them and the sea rocks below, Coco lets slip something quieter, something more fragile. A history of leaving, of not lasting. And Ginger… he’s already in too deep to pretend he didn’t hear it.

Read Chapter 8: Beneath the Stars, Between the Lines

Eric