Hey! I am Rhys Ford and I’ll be taking over this blog today … sort of. There’s really no cool way of introducing yourself on someone else’s blog and honestly, if you’re following this series of shorts, you’re going to be sick of reading this. So… feel free to jump down to the meaty bits of the short if you like. Go on. I won’t mind.
Now, if you’ve been following the Sinners Series, I am happy to say the third book is either on the brink of coming out or out by the time this post hits. It is called Tequila Mockingbird and features Connor Morgan as he discovers he’s in love with a drummer—a guy drummer. Murder, mayhem, sexing, etc. All of those follow. You know the drill. But wooot! I am very happy to announce Connor’s story.
To celebrate, I’ve written a short serialized string of vignettes titled Hair of the Dog. Please enjoy the story as it goes along. The order of the posts is included at the bottom of the short. Hope you enjoy it.
Oh…and Giveaway! Would you like to win…. Drum roll…..
Become a guest star character in my new series—I won’t murder you. Promise! AND a custom Persian chain mail bracelet from Times Combined
THIS CONTEST IS CLOSED
My human was useless.
There was no other way to say it but—useless. He couldn’t hunt. Well, hardly any human did these days. Most of them gathered from food places or had other humans come over with food but even these simple things, my human failed at.
The noise he used for me was nice. Dude. I’d heard other humans use it to call one another. Much like saying Pack. It was an acknowledgement of equality, and I bore it with honour. I added it to my other names, gleefully in fact. It was much better than the bulldog’s and so much greater a name than the poor Chihuahua-mix I’d met whose owner called it Boobie-Hamster. But Snuffler of Warm, Soft Flesh liked the name and wore it as a badge.
Of course, he also called himself Terror of Cats, and we both pretended as if it were true.
Sometimes, it’s best to let a dog’s pride remain intact, even as he shivered when passing by one of the Pack’s traditional rivals for affection—the canny feline.
No, my human was useless in so many things. He did not gather food that smelled of anything but salt, grains and chemicals, even though he made sure the sustenance he gave me was primarily protein—even the dried kibble he left in an open bag for me on the floor. He did not walk. He did not stretch his legs. And he hurt. All the time. Inside and out. There were parts of him I could not reach because humans and their frail communication skills meant they had to chatter and chatter nonsensically at each other just to say hello or goodbye.
I would have liked if he chattered to someone—anyone—but he rarely saw another person. If he left to the food place on the corner of the crossway, he spent less than a few seconds talking to the human there.
And he also brought home much too much liquid fermented grain. If he intended to drink his food, I’d have to find a new person to live with before long because the one I’d found was too broken to survive.
No, I was going to need help. The problem with my human was too big for just one dog to take care of. I’d need a bigger voice than the one I had, one my human—my Miki— would listen to.
I was tired of my human tasting like tears. Tired of hoping he would find something he’d like to play with in the things I brought to him every day. I was going to have to bring him something—someone—grumpier than he was. I knew I felt better after a good fight. There was something about getting my blood stirred up that lifted the spirit even in the darkest of days.
That is what Miki needed. His blood stirred.
And I knew just the human to do it.
Lieutenant Connor Morgan of SFPD’s SWAT division wasn’t looking for love. Especially not in a man. His life plan didn’t include one Forest Ackerman, a brown-eyed, blond drummer who’s as sexy as he is trouble. His family depends on him to be like his father, a solid pillar of strength who’ll one day lead the Morgan clan.
No, Connor has everything worked out—a career in law enforcement, a nice house, and a family. Instead, he finds a murdered man while on a drug raid and loses his heart comforting the man’s adopted son. It wasn’t like he’d never thought about men — it’s just loving one doesn’t fit into his plans.
Forest Ackerman certainly doesn’t need to be lusting after a straight cop, even if Connor Morgan is everywhere he looks, especially after Frank’s death. He’s just talked himself out of lusting for the brawny cop when his coffee shop becomes a war zone and Connor Morgan steps in to save him.
Whoever killed his father seems intent on Forest joining him in the afterlife. As the killer moves closer to achieving his goal, Forest tangles with Connor Morgan and is left wondering what he’ll lose first—his life or his heart.
Purchase Tequila Mockingbird at Dreamspinner Press
Also available on Amazon, ARe and other online book stores.
Follow all of Hair of the Dog Story at these blog spots:
Part 1: Rainbow Gold Reviews
Part 2: Live your Life, Buy The Book
Part 3: The Novel Approach
Part 4: The Blogger Girls
Part 5: Joyfully Jay
Part 6: 3 Chicks After Dark
Part 7: Gay List Book Reviews
Part 8: Boy meets Boy
Part 9: Prism Book Alliance
Part 10: Under The Covers
Part 11: LoveBytes Reviews
Rhys Ford was born and raised in Hawai’i then wandered off to see the world. After chewing through a pile of books, a lot of odd food, and a stray boyfriend or two, Rhys eventually landed in San Diego, which is a very nice place but seriously needs more rain.
Rhys admits to sharing the house with three cats of varying degrees of black fur and a ginger cairn terrorist. Rhys is also enslaved to the upkeep a 1979 Pontiac Firebird, a Toshiba laptop, and an overworked red coffee maker.