Today I am so pleased to welcome Rhys Ford to Joyfully Jay. Rhys has come to talk to us about her upcoming release, Tutus and Tinsel, and share an exclusive Miki and Kane ficlet! She has also brought along a fabulous giveaway! Please join me in giving her a big welcome!
Ah the holidays.
The time for family and loved ones.
Since I’m rolling out Tutus and Tinsel (a holiday short story where I take you back to Half Moon Bay and see what Deacon, Lang and Zig are up to), I wanted to also stop in on a few of my favourite couples on this tour. So, I invite you to join me as we catch up with Rook and Dante, Miki and Kane, Kai and Ryder as well as Cole and Jae over the next few days.
AND because it wouldn’t be the holiday season without a gift, I’m giving away a $25 gift certificate to the online store of the winner’s choice at EACH stop.
So sit back, grab some hot chocolate, tea or coffee and let’s catch up with some of our guys.
Much love and I hope you all have a great holiday…and be sure to stop by and see how Zig learns what family really means in Tutus and Tinsel. Release Day is December 21st and brought to you by Dreamspinner Press!
Tutus and Tinsel by Rhys Ford
Out on Dec 21 by Dreamspinner Press
Kane knew the exact moment Miki came home. He didn’t need to see Dude pop his head up, perking up from his place on the new sectional they’d bought before Crossroads Gin went on their mini West Coast tour. And he definitely couldn’t hear the sound of the tour bus pulling up to the main road out in front of the warehouses, its bloated girth too wide and long to come down the driveway to drop Miki off.
He knew because the cold outside seemed to shift, something in the air growing warmer then the sun broke through the wintery fog cloaking the warehouse when his rock star walked through the front door.
They’d been married for nearly five years and had been together a few before that momentous day Miki sang his heart out to Kane in the middle of Finnegan’s Pub but Kane didn’t think the day would ever come when Miki didn’t take his breath away.
He brought the road in with him, a windswept disheveled weariness laced with a soul-deep satiation. Miki coming off a tour looked nearly the same as the moments right after sex, a sensual, long-pour of liquid grace and heart-stopping beauty.
Kane did take a bit of pride in knowing music couldn’t put a languid smile on Miki’s full mouth when it was done with him, not like Kane could after a few hours of intense, bone-shattering pleasure.
The dog got to Miki first. That was only fair. Dude had been there first and the golden haired terrier was slowing down, his legs stiff in the morning but he was more than eager to get out the front door for a long ramble. Kane stood by Miki’s side while he crouched and scratched at the dog’s wiry coat, sending Dude into a crooning frenzy. The canine overdosed on Miki’s affection within thirty seconds, excitedly zooming away to go stand on the back of the couch and bark.
Miki straightened up and Kane took him into his arms.
There was more of Miki now. He was healthier and carried a bit more muscle than he had when Kane first met him. Physical therapy helped with his mobility and while he still liked to lose himself in long walks through Chinatown, he also joined Damien every other day or so in the gym he and Sionn put in their warehouse.
His hair was longer, streaked a bit of gold from being out in the sun and there was less suspicion in his luminous hazel eyes but as long as they lived, Kane was fairly certain nothing was ever going to blunt his husband’s feral nature.
Kane wouldn’t have it any other way.
Miki was gentle with him, curving into Kane’s torso and burying his face into Kane’s chest. The dog quieted after a few more happy yips, settling back down into the couch when Kane playfully frowned at him. Miki smelled of the blustery wind outside, a hint of road dirt and a dash of diesel but underneath it was the erotic aroma of a mostly clean, barely housebroken musician.
As if he could share Kane’s thoughts, Miki finally murmured in his whiskey-rough beautiful voice, “God, I fucking love how we smell when we’re together.”
“Ah, I’ve missed you, Mick,” Kane whispered, cupping his husband’s chin and tilting his face up so he could stare into the man he’d fallen for, despite his common sense telling him otherwise. “It’s good to have you home.”
He kissed Miki like he was a drowning man searching for air. It was one of those moments Kane needed to etch every sensation into his memory, needing to relive every homecoming Miki gave him. He took his time. Kissing Miki was worth every second he devoted to it and when Miki’s arms came up, his long fingers stroking down Kane’s back, he lost himself in his husband’s mouth.
Cupping the back of Miki’s head, Kane pressed his thumb to the base of Miki’s ear, his hand buried in the silken strands as he rubbed small circles across the soft skin behind Miki’s lobe. His husband sighed, the tension slipping away from his lean body, giving himself over to Kane’s touch.
Within moments the air grew too hot, trapped between them and Kane longed to strip every inch of clothing from Miki’s body, but he knew his husband too well. Food had probably been something quick grabbed on the run and more than likely hadn’t been very filling. Although tasked to make sure their singer ate on a regular basis, the band often acquiesced when Miki told them to fuck off. He didn’t like being told what to do, even at the expense of his health and there was only so much bullying he would take, even from his brother Damien.
“I made you lunch,” Kane murmured, breaking their kiss but holding Miki close. “When was the last time your stomach’s walls weren’t touching?”
“I had a latte this morning. That shit’s got enough milk in it so it should count as yogurt.” Undeterred, Miki slid his fingers down the back of Kane’s waistband, tracing the lines of his muscles with a delicate touch. “I’m not hungry for food.”
“You have to get something in you, so I can keep you up all night,” Kane laughed, reluctantly pulling away. “Besides, it’s Christmas Eve, remember?”
“I know, that’s why we’re home,” Miki snorted. “I just got rid of the band. Why do I have to have them in the house again?”
“Tradition, Mick. Mom and Dad have all of the kids and the eight of us get together to drink and be merry for one night a year,” Kane reminded him. “Let me make sure the mac and cheese is warm enough. Mom dropped it off this morning.”
“So you really didn’t make lunch,” Miki scoffed, toeing his sneakers off. “What else did she drop off?”
“Succotash. I waited until she was around the corner before I took it out to the dumpster,” he replied, smirking at Miki’s grimace. “How was Vegas?”
“Vegas-y,” he shot back, leaning over the couch to give Dude another ear rub. “Lots of lights, lobster for breakfast, and I was glad it’s the second to the last show. Just one more here in SF and we can go back to the studio.”
His husband went over to inspect the tree, an eight foot monstrosity they’d both struggled to put up after Thanksgiving. Their decorations were eclectic, a sparkling hologram garland made up out of what seemed like thousands of guitar picks, but the ornaments were things they’d found over the years, usually while digging through antique stores or things Miki brought home from tour. Some of the larger globes were gifts from Brigid, ornaments she’d passed down from the Morgans’ past Christmases.
He wished he’d thought to turn on the lights before Miki got home but his husband did it for him, turning on the switch then stepping back as the old-fashioned bulbs began their colorful, rainbow dance. Miki flicked his finger against a string of tiny silvery bells they’d found in Galway, a memento of his first trip to Kane’s beloved homeland. When Miki looked over at him, Kane’s heart could barely hold itself in, over filled with emotion and love.
“You okay?” Miki cocked his head. “You’ve got a funny look on your face.”
“And here I was just thinking about how much I love you.”
“Really? You look like you got a fucking stomachache.” Miki grinned. “I love you too.”
“Did you get a lot of writing done while you’re on the road?” Kane flicked the oven back on, not liking the chill on the pasta he’d left on warm. By the time he turned back around, Miki was already sitting on the counter, leaning back on his hands and smiling contentedly. There was a bit of fatigue around his eyes, but Kane wasn’t going to suggest a nap until he was sure Miki had eaten.
“Come here,” Miki said, crooking his finger. “You’ve been gone too long.”
“You’re the one who’s been on the road for two weeks,” he replied, nestling himself between Miki’s parted knees. “I like these short tours of yours. I like it even better when you come home.”
“I will always come home,” Miki promised, licking at Kane’s lower lip. “It’s where you are. Now feed me lunch so you and I can get horizontal. In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve kind of missed you. And I’d really like to remind you how much I love you. And we’re sure as hell not going to do that in the kitchen.”
Zig Reid-Harris has everything an eleven-year-old girl could ever want: a great home, two fantastic fathers named Deacon Reid and Lang Harris, and all the books she could possible read.
When a school assignment about holiday traditions unexpectedly broadsides her, she discovers burying the past isn’t as easy as it looks, and the stark reality of her life before her adoption sinks in. Ashamed of the bleakness and poverty she came from, Zig struggles with the assignment until an epiphany strikes the whole family—it’s time to start their own traditions.
Zig and her fathers plunge into the insanity of holiday joy, exploring everything the season has to offer and learning how precious family truly is along the way.
Rhys Ford is an award-winning author with several long-running LGBT+ mystery, thriller, paranormal, and urban fantasy series and is a two-time LAMBDA finalist with her Murder and Mayhem novels. She is also a 2017 Gold and Silver Medal winner in the Florida Authors and Publishers President’s Book Awards for her novels Ink and Shadows and Hanging the Stars. She is published by Dreamspinner Press and DSP Publications.
She’s also quite skeptical about bios without a dash of something personal and really, who doesn’t mention their cats, dog and cars in a bio? She shares the house with Harley, a grey tuxedo with a flower on her face, Badger, a disgruntled alley cat who isn’t sure living inside is a step up the social ladder as well as a ginger cairn terrorist named Gus. Rhys is also enslaved to the upkeep a 1979 Pontiac Firebird and enjoys murdering make-believe people.
Rhys can be found at the following locations:
- Email: rhysford AT vitaenoir DOT com
- Blog: www.rhysford.com
- Facebook: www.facebook.com/rhys.ford.author
- Twitter: @Rhys_Ford
Rhys has brought a $25 gift certificate to an e-retailer of choice to give away to one lucky Joyfully Jay reader. Just leave a comment at the end of the post to enter. The contest ends on Sunday, December 23rd at 11:59 pm ET.
- 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.