Eric Ross: Blog

This chapter lives in the hum between the obvious and the unspoken. The clocks slip again, but it’s not just time that’s turning. There’s a moment here when Lira’s sketch comes back different—complete when it shouldn’t be. The dent was one thing; this is another.

I wanted this chapter to feel like a slow spiral—like their trust deepening even as their certainty frays. He can’t tell her what’s shifting in him. She doesn’t ask, not really. But the questions hum beneath every touch of the key.

“I didn’t finish this,” she says, looking at the sketch that shouldn’t be done. But it is.

This chapter is about the difference between what you remember and what you feel. About how every turn of the key writes something deeper—into wood, into skin, into the quiet that holds them.

Chapter 5: Smoke in the Gears is live.

—Eric

I think of this chapter as the moment when the quiet between them begins to fill with more than just curiosity. There’s laughter, sure—but also the first hints of something unsteady beneath it. The dent in the workbench becomes a kind of proof: not everything resets, not even the smallest things.

Lira tests him here. Tests the clocks, too. The way she says, “Old as the hills,” and the way he can’t help but smile, even as he frowns. These are the small cracks that become something larger—moments that don’t fade, no matter how many times the key turns.

Chapter 4: Held in the Hinge is live. Enjoy.

—Eric

Here's my latest bit of erotic silliness, Reshelved with Benefits. This story was born from an absurd question that tickled my brain: what if the moon decided she was done glowing in the sky and applied for a desk job at a small-town library?

From that ridiculous premise comes Mona—a pale, willowy moon in borrowed skin—learning to want and to be wanted by Theo, the library’s lusty Assistant Librarian. Their chemistry is electric, the shelves themselves conspire with steamy romance novels, and the library becomes a carnival of whispered (of course) desire.

This story is unabashedly absurdist at heart: books that purr and flicker with starlight, cosmic librarians who mete out part-time jobs on Earth, and a moon girl discovering that gravity isn’t just for the planets—it’s for pleasure, too.

Enjoy!

—Eric Ross

This chapter always felt like a turning point to me. They’re no longer just testing the clock’s pull—Lira is testing him, too. The question she asks, “What’s it cost?” isn’t just about time anymore. It’s about them. About what they’re willing to risk to keep the moment alive.

Writing this, I wanted the sense of the world tightening around them—each turn of the key a small theft, a small thrill. The air thickens. The silence feels loaded. And neither of them really in knows how deep they’re already in.

Chapter 3 is live.

—Eric Ross

In this chapter of The Clockmaker’s Rewind, the clockmaker shows Lira the antique clock’s secret for the first time. The key turns. The air changes. A hammer falls, a dent stays. And Lira sees it with him—proof that time isn’t a clean slate.

She doesn’t flinch. Instead, she leans in close and says, “Show me.”

The first breath of shared wonder. The first edge of doubt. A small thing, a dent in the wood—but it’s enough to change everything.

A Dent in Time is live.

—Eric Ross