Eric Ross: Blog

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

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