Somewhere between dusk and dream, a forgotten amusement park hums beneath the ivy. Its carousel spins for no one. Its tunnel murmurs to the moon. And if you step close enough, you might hear it breathe.
I’ve just released the prologue and first chapter of my new story, Lunara’s Veil—a surreal, erotic descent into a world where desire is ritual and surrender is sacred.
It begins with a man named Avery—a photographer, a seeker, a boy with shame pressed deep into his bones. He stumbles across an abandoned carnival whispered about in half-remembered myths. There’s mist. Fireflies. A woman who may not be a woman. A shrine that takes more than it gives—and gives more than you thought you wanted.
What follows is part myth, part fever dream, and part reckoning with the parts of ourselves we’re taught to bury. If you’ve read my other work, you know I like to blur the line between the sacred and the profane. This one leans hard into that blur—ritual sex, queer longing, lunar devotion, and the quiet terror of being truly seen.
And yes, it’s explicit. But it’s also a love letter to the body as a place of transformation.
New chapters coming soon.
-Eric
P.S. Apologies for the multiple reposts. It has taken me a little time to understand the SOL formatting system, and to make the layout of the words on the screen match the vision I had for them.