Eric Ross: Blog

So… Mel’s back.

And no, she hasn’t calmed down. If anything, she’s running hotter than ever—and this time, she’s dragging her friends Sandy and Liza straight into the fire with her.

I started writing Trouble in Threes thinking it would be a playful follow-up, a messy little romp with toys and teasing and that familiar Mel swagger. But somewhere between the wine bar and the hot tub, something shifted. Mel told a story that hurt more than she meant it to. She let the name Balls slip—the nickname of a tattoo artist who did more than just wreck her body—and for once, she didn’t laugh it off.

Of course, she still ends up half-naked, smirking, and grinding on a jet stream before the night’s over. This is Mel, after all.

But under the orgasms and one-liners, there’s a new tension running through her: what happens when someone like Mel lets herself be held? What if group sex isn’t just fun, but intimate? What if chaos is no longer enough?

Trouble in Threes is sweaty and filthy and fast, but it’s also a little tender. A little honest. Just don’t tell Mel I said that.

It’s live now. I hope you love it. And if you come away needing a cold drink and a warm hand on your hip, well—mission accomplished.

Eric

There’s something about the Oregon Coast that strips you bare. Maybe it’s the wind that never quite warms, or the sound of the Pacific crashing like it’s trying to remember something it lost. For Ginger and Coco, it’s the perfect place to get filthy, body and soul.

In this new chapter of Afterglow, they escape the city for a windswept weekend by the sea. What starts as a dare—who can get naked fastest in the freezing surf—spirals into something far more intimate. There’s laughter, lust, a little sand in places it shouldn’t be. But underneath the rough play, there’s a shift. A moment where skin and trust collide, and not everything feels like a game anymore.

I won’t spoil it, but this one’s messy in all the best ways—and maybe a little bittersweet by the time the tide pulls back.

You can read Chapter 7 now: Salt, Sand & Surrender.

Eric

To everyone who’s been reading Afterglow as it unfolds: thank you. And a quick note before we dive into Tokyo.

Some of you may have noticed reposted chapters or sections appearing out of order. That’s on me. Chalk it up to late-night edits and a touch too much ambition. If the rhythm felt off, or if you lost the thread—I hear you, and I’m sorry.

The good news? Everything’s been cleaned up, tightened, and set right.

Which brings us to Chapter 6: “Tokyo Reflected.”

Ginger and Coco land in Tokyo, and check into a love hotel that mirrors more than just their bodies. This chapter is raw, drenched in toys, trust, and control—and it ends with a quiet unraveling. One that doesn’t come from pain, but from something more intimate: being seen.

Whether you’re just joining their story or circling back for the full, uninterrupted ride, now’s the perfect time to (re)immerse yourself.

Because every step—every slip, every kiss, every correction—has led them here.

Eric

When I first wrote Afterglow, it was a celebration of wild sex in wilder places—two people chasing heat, freedom, and each other across the globe. Ginger and Coco were impulsive, untethered, joyfully carnal. But somewhere along the way, I realized that desire without depth couldn’t carry their story forever.

Panic at the Glacier marks a shift. It’s the first time Coco stops running long enough to reveal what’s chasing her.

Set in the eerie stillness of an Icelandic lagoon, this scene cracks open the glossy surface. For the first time, we hear Coco speak about the grief she’s buried beneath bravado. The moment is quiet, heavy, and deeply human. And it’s not just about loss—it’s about what Ginger chooses in the face of it. He doesn’t fix Coco. He doesn’t flee. He simply stays.

With this interlude, Afterglow grows up. It’s still a story of sexual freedom and globe-spanning lust—but now it’s also about what it costs to be known, and what it takes to stay when the laughter fades. This is the beginning of Coco’s backstory—and the beginning of Ginger’s commitment.

Eric

I’ve been having a great conversation with one of my readers, Aardvark8, who offered some sharp and thoughtful feedback on Mazeheart. As a result, I’ve made a few updates to the story—most notably, it now opens with a short prologue from the maze’s point of view.

This addition makes the maze’s sentience explicit from the beginning, grounding the story’s magic and giving the maze its due as a character in its own right. It’s a big improvement over the original version, which left that connection more ambiguous.

“I am not hedge. I am not wall. I am passage, trial, mouth. I open for the worthy. I bite the careless. I crave the ones who hesitate.”

If you’ve already read it, this version adds new depth. If you haven’t, now’s the perfect time to get lost.

Eric