The Glass Inkwell

(Without spoiling anything. Mostly.)

On emotional promises and why I take them seriously Every book makes a promise. Not always out loud. Not always in the blurb. But somewhere in the first chapter, in the tone, in the way the author leans into the story—there's a handshake. An unspoken agreement between writer and reader. Here's what I'm offering you. Here's what this experience is going to feel like. I take that seriously. Maybe a little obsessively. (My notes document has an entire section called "The Feeling

There is a specific kind of magic that happens when you stop doing what you’re supposed  to do and start doing what your soul actually demands. For my newest heroine, Cerys Duncan, that meant trading a predictable life for a solo sailing adventure. For me? It meant writing a story that felt like a warm hug, a stiff breeze, and a very necessary reminder that love shouldn't require us to shrink. I am so thrilled to finally announce that Saltwater Between Us  is officially avail

I want to tell you something about Cerys Duncan before you meet her. She's not a woman in crisis. She's not broken, exactly—just... compressed. Like someone who's spent years fitting herself into spaces that were never quite the right shape, who learned early that being agreeable was safer than being herself , and who got so good at performing "practical" that she forgot practical and afraid  aren't the same thing. She's also kind of remarkable. Quietly, stubbornly, wonderful

There's a specific kind of magic that happens when two characters meet for the first time. Not just any  meeting. Not the "oh, you work in accounting too?" kind. I'm talking about the kind of first encounter that makes you stop mid-bite of your sandwich, forget you have tea steeping, and accidentally stay up until 2 a.m. because you have  to know what happens next. The kind that crackles. I've been thinking about this a lot lately—what makes a first encounter in romance truly

There is a particular kind of joy that only exists inside curated worlds. Not the fragile joy of productivity. Not the earned joy that comes after suffering. I mean the loud, unapologetic joy of walking into a place designed entirely for wonder and saying, Yes. I will have some of that. Universal Studios was my birthday gift to myself. A day of color and noise and spectacle after days steeped in stone, history, and ghosts. Ancient forts and quiet museums had given me weight.

Saltwater Between Us by Jade Black Releasing Mid-April 2026 There are stories that whisper. There are stories that linger. And then there are stories that grab you by the hand, pull you barefoot across hot sand, and say, Come on. You deserve this. Saltwater Between Us  is very much the third kind. This is your official heads-up that my next release—written under my romance pen name, Jade Black —is on the horizon, and I am vibrating with excitement like a sail catching its fir

The walls of Castillo de San Marcos do not shimmer. They loom. Up close, the stone tells on itself. Coquina, made of compressed shells, thousands upon thousands of tiny lives pressed together into something meant to last. If you lean in, really lean in, you can see them. Fragments. Spirals. Ghosts of what used to be ocean, now stacked into a fortress. There’s old graffiti scratched into the walls too. Names. Marks. Proof that people needed to say I was here  even when the pla

There's something about island stories that hits differently. Maybe it's the promise of turquoise water lapping against white sand, or the way salt air seems to strip away everything unnecessary until you're left with just yourself and what you actually want. Maybe it's the permission that distance gives us—to be someone different, someone braver, someone who says yes to things we'd never consider back home where the bills are waiting and responsibilities have our phone numb