Today I am so pleased to welcome back the fabulous Rhys Ford to Joyfully Jay. Rhys has come to talk to us about her latest release, Sloe Ride (which I loved and reviewed here). She has also brought along a fun giveaway. Please join me in giving Rhys a big welcome!

 

Sloe Ride.

Actually it’s been more of a long ride. Three years, three books, one novella and a lot of short stories and we’ve come to the point where Quinn gets his story. And we get to really meet Rafe. This is definitely a shift in the band’s story, a lot more Morgan and well, there’s Quinn, the family’s off-black sheep. It was a challenge a joy to write Quinn and Rafe. And I hope you enjoy it.

electric guitar burning in fire

We’ve got two more outings in the Sinners series after Sloe Ride but this book kind of pulls a lot of things together. Enough so we can go forward to a few other things. And I hope you enjoy the ride.

This blog tour captures a few scenes along the band’s journey from Damien and Miki to the start of Sloe Ride. It’s called Shot Glass Sin and I’m hoping you enjoy this too. Visit each blog stop to get the next part of the story and when it’s all done, I’ll post the entire thing in a PDF.

Oh! And a GIVEAWAY! But not just any giveaway, because it’s time for a new tour shirt.

Because the guys are going on tour… in Absinthe of Malice, a Sinners novella set to be released in 2016. And they’re going to need clubs or bars to go to. ONE WINNER at each blog stop will name one of the places the band plays at on their tour. Nothing profane or lewd (These ARE going on the back of a t-shirt) but pretty much anything goes.

Leave a comment below or rafflecopter to enter.

Shot Glass Sin

8 —Tequila Mockingbird

The Sound was packed.

Overpacked, by Forest’s standards and it didn’t seem like it was going to unpack any time soon.

“Didn’t know there were this many fucking bassists in California,” Jenkins growled from behind the receptionist’s counter. “And you guys are going to listen to all of them? What the fuck are you thinking?”

The product of a 1970s biracial marriage, Jenkins grew up hard and fast in Oakland, picking up the sax at an early age to make himself some money in between drug deals. He’d gotten good enough as a sax player the drug deals fell to the wayside but not so good as to land a solid gig. He’d been a fixture at the Sound for as long as Forest had been there, a freckled, umber-skinned man with a mop of red curls shuffling in to do sets or cover the front when he needed the money.

Jenkins always needed the money and since Forest had taken over, he now manned the front desk regularly in between gigs.

The call went out for auditions. Sort of. It was more of a murmuring about Sinner’s Gin strapping on its wax wings again to head for the sun and the word spread. Demo links were uploaded and sent, gathered up here and there by Edie, Damien and Forest then appointments were made to hear everyone they liked. Nothing was sent to Miki. Forest’d been shocked to discover Miki was so far off the grid, he didn’t even have an email address and steadfastly refused to get one.

“Everyone I fucking know I see on a daily basis,” he pointed out, barely looking up from his guitar. “And I’ve got a cell phone. I’ll get one when I need one. If I need one.”

And with that, Miki shut the conversation down.

“There something’s wrong with that boy. That St. John boy. He’s not right in the head.” Jenkins cracked a sunflower seed between his teeth. “The other one’s like a used car salesman. Makes me want to check my fingers to see if my rings are still there whenever he shakes my hand. You sure you want to hook up with those two?”

“So bad I can taste it,” Forest confessed. “And they’re not bad. Just… it’s kind of their way of keeping people out. Damien charms everyone into seeing what they want to and Miki… well, he’s got walls.”

“Walls?” Jenkins coughed out the wet seed, patting his chest. “That boy’s got a fucking labyrinth.”

With a few clusters of musicians waiting outside for a turn at the studio, Forest could barely see the sidewalk. He’d listened to more renditions of Smoke on the Water than he’d cared to count and they still hadn’t found someone who’d clicked with them. Damien headed over the newly remodeled Amp to grab them iced coffees and Miki’d slipped out, hoping to get a few drags of a kretek before they began round two.

“Speaking of taste it, your boy’s just come up to the curb.” Jenkins nodded his head towards the studio’s broad windows. “You’ve gotta tell him not to come in here all copped out. Scares the customers.”

Connor was coming around the front of his Hummer when Forest turned around. Jenkins was right, dressed in the steep black combat gear he wore for a raid and standing nearly a head above the musicians, Connor Morgan was definitely terrifying for the crowd that probably had more than a few illicit drugs on them. A pair of mirrored Oakleys hid Con’s deep ocean blue eyes and he cut a swath through the sidewalk, easily muscling through to the door.

More than a few of their potential bassists took Connor’s arrival as a sign and quietly slunk off.

“Hey, babe.” Connor’s voice sent a chill down Forest’s spine, silky, dark and full of promises for a later in the Victorian they lived in. After tucking his sunglasses into the collar of his shirt, Con caught Forest up in a fierce, brief hug, searing a kiss on his mouth before letting him go.

“Guess you haven’t found your guy yet.”

“No, not really.” It was hard to describe what they were all looking for. Damien wanted someone with technical skill and stage presence but there was something elusively missing in the few players they’d actually liked. “No one’s wowed Miki. It’s kind of like speed dating with conjoined twins. Damie pulls them in but Miki’s the one who’s got to say yes.”

“Never would have though that. Always figured Damien drove the bus there.” Con cocked his head. There was movement outside, a flutter of arms and he’d gone still, watching for trouble but it was nothing, only a visual whirl of someone telling a story. “Well, hang in there. I’ll come get you when you’re done.”

“Thanks,” Forest sighed, hearing the back door open. “And if you see any kick ass bassists out there you think could last a day with these guys, send them in.”

Shot Glass Sin Blog Tour Dates


Blurb

SloeRide_Cover_Rhys-Ford_SmallIt isn’t easy being a Morgan. Especially when dead bodies start piling up and there’s not a damned thing you can do about it.

Quinn Morgan never quite fit into the family mold. He dreamed of a life with books instead of badges and knowledge instead of law—and a life with Rafe Andrade, his older brothers’ bad boy friend and the man who broke his very young heart.

Rafe Andrade returned home to lick his wounds following his ejection from the band he helped form. A recovering drug addict, Rafe spends his time wallowing in guilt, until he finds himself faced with his original addiction, Quinn Morgan—the reason he fled the city in the first place.

When Rafe hears the Sinners are looking for a bassist, it’s a chance to redeem himself, but as a crazed murderer draws closer to Quinn, Rafe’s willing to sacrifice everything—including himself—to keep his quixotic Morgan safe and sound.

Purchase Sloe Ride at Dreamspinner Press.

Or Amazon, Barnes and Noble and ARe.


Bio

rhys_ford_headshot

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 a red Hamilton Beach coffee maker.

If you’ve actually read this, yay! I need coffee. We should have coffee.

My books can be purchased, folded and first chapters read at Dreamspinner Press.


Giveaway

giveaway

ONE WINNER at each blog stop will name one of the places the band plays at on their tour. Nothing profane or lewd (These ARE going on the back of a t-shirt) but pretty much anything goes. Just leave a comment at the end of the post to enter. The contest ends on Thursday, September 10th at 11:59 pm EST.

  • By entering the giveaway, you’re confirming that you are at least 18 years old.
  • Winners will be selected by random number. No purchase necessary to win.  The number of eligible entries received determines the odds of winning.
  • If you win, you must respond to my email within 48 hours or another winner may be chosen. Please make sure that your spam filter allows email from Joyfully Jay.
  • Winners may be announced on the blog following the contest. By entering the contest you are agreeing to allow your name to be posted and promoted as the contest winner by Joyfully Jay.
  • Prizes will be distributed following the giveaway either by Joyfully Jay or the person/organization donating the prize.
  • All book prizes are in electronic format unless otherwise specified.
  • By entering you are agreeing to hold Joyfully Jay harmless if the prize or giveaway in some way negatively impacts the winner.
  • Readers may only enter once for each contest.  Duplicate entries for the same giveaway will be ignored. In the event of technical problems with the blog during the contest, every effort will be made to extend the contest deadline to allow for additional entries.
  • Void where prohibited by law.
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