This tour post is ALL about m/m paranormal as we welcome back Rhys Ford author of Duck Duck Ghost, book two in the Hellsinger series from Dreamspinner Press. Happy Release Day! We’re so glad you’re here, Rhys!
Hey! I am Rhys Ford… speaking to you in my own… okay that doesn’t work. Does anyone else remember Don Carnage!? He’s speaking at you in his own voice! Ah, the esoteric memories. You’ll probably want to skip this part during the next few…*coffs*…okay, over a dozen blogs as I parcel out a short tale featuring Wolf and Tristan!
Welcome to a Hellsinger Investigation!
There will be prizes and giveaways. Be sure to hit up each blog for an update on the investigation. I have brought in for this tale of ghosts and shenanigans two special prizes (well many of them…but two!). You might have seen them already; a pair of cuddly alpaca and a braided leather Wolf sigil bracelet. You’ll be able to win one or both at each stop with a Grand Prize to be given away at the end of the tour.
The giveaway for this spot is: A Wolf Sigil Bracelet!
Leave a comment or… if the blog is so inclined, ping their contest widget… to be entered to win!
Residence: Hazel Maplethorn-Bocker
Paranormal Activity: Objects Relocating
Location: Eureka, CA
The residence is occupied by Ms. M-B and ten cats. Client is retired school-teacher and has no history of psychic or paranormal activity either personal or in residence. Residence is 1940s bungalow with no recorded deaths. Land cleared of any prior paranormal activity; formerly undeveloped acreage. No structures or casualties reported at location. Cannot discount native population or transitory inhabitants prior to establishment of city boundaries.
Team: Gidget and Matt
Consultant: Tristan Pryce
It was a different kind of scream that sent Wolf sprinting down the hallway to Hazel’s bedroom. This time, the sound was less terrifying and more terrified, reaching down into the depths of humanity’s shared consciousness to dredge up primal images of death and forsaken souls. He could hear Gidget and Matt coming up behind him and when the hallway jogged to the left, Wolf cut the corner too quickly and jammed his shoulder into the plaster wall, rattling pictures hanging from thin wires along the length of the front wall.
He didn’t stop. He couldn’t have stopped even if he wanted to because Hazel’s wailing suddenly cut off, leaving an echoing nothingness in its wake.
The silence sank into the house for a long moment, steeping into a dark thick brew as Wolf reached Hazel’s door. The knob refused to give in his hand and Wolf ground his teeth tightly while he pounded on the door.
“Hazel?!” Only the dead wouldn’t be able to hear him. Not in the stillness around them. Gidget’s heavy, panicked breathing punctuated the seconds in between Matt’s and Wolf pressed his ear to the door, hoping to hear something—anything—from the woman inside.
“Take it down, Kincaid,” Matt urged. “Fuck, dude. That—she’s…”
“Fucking knob has an actual key,” Wolf muttered, running his hand over the frame. The door was solid, framed out in thick, polished oak. “Gidge, see if you can find keys somewhere. Maybe the kitchen.”
“Got it. Wait, try kicking at the knob. My uncle used to do that to my mom when they were kids.” Gidget intercepted Wolf’s skeptical glare. “And I’ll go look in the kitchen while you—”
“I’ll be kicking at the door.” Wolf growled while Gidget retreated back down the hall. “Stand over here, Matt. I’ll use you to balance.”
“Dude, not a Wallenda.” Matt’s forehead beaded up with sweat and he moved closer so Wolf could lean on his shoulder. “Fuck, she’s not making any noise now.”
“Yeah. Bend your knees a bit so you don’t get hurt. You’ll be able to take my weight better.”
Any excitement over the possible manifestation slithered away guiltily into Wolf’s subconscious at the possibility of Hazel being hurt. The gregarious woman’d kept them laughing as they shared pizza and beer, her Mrs. Santa like face beaming at the company she was keeping. He knew she’d already lost one love of her life, Deidre and she had been resigned to spending the rest of her life alone when a pixie faced irreverent attorney named Andrea caught her eye and her heart.
Wolf knew she missed teaching because she loved seeing a child’s eyes bloom with intelligence and that she had a wicked looking geisha tattoo on her back, letting them take a scandalous peek at it when she shrugged her housecoat down off her shoulder for them to have a look.
“Okay, let’s do this.” Wolf took a deep breath. “Don’t lock your knees either. You’ll end up face first on the floor if you do.”
“Sounds like you’ve done this a lot.” Matt crouched slightly, grunting when Wolf placed his hand on Matt’s shoulder.
“Busting down doors is a family tradition. Hold on,” Wolf warned. “Let’s see if we can get in here.”
Mostly because he stuck it firmly in his mouth when his lover, Tristan Pryce, accidentally drugged him with a batch of psychotropic baklava. Needing to patch things up between them, Wolf drags Tristan to San Luis Obispo, hoping Tristan’s medium ability can help evict a troublesome spirit haunting an old farmhouse.
With Wolf’s sister handling Hoxne Grange’s spectral visitors, Tristan finds himself in the unique position of being able to leave home for the first time in forever, but Wolf’s roughshod treatment is the least of his worries. Tristan’s ad-hoc portal for passing spirits seems to be getting fewer and fewer guests, and despite his concern he’s broken his home, Tristan agrees to help Wolf’s cousin, Sey, kick her poltergeist to the proverbial curb.
San Luis Obispo brings its own bushel of troubles. Tristan’s ghost whispering skill is challenged not only by a terrorizing haunting but also by Wolf’s skeptical older cousin, Cin. Bookended by a pair of aggressive Kincaids, Tristan soon finds himself in a spectral battle that threatens not only his sanity but also his relationship with Wolf, the first man he’s ever loved.
Duck Duck Ghost is available today from Dreamspinner Press.
About the Author:
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.
Here’s where you can find Rhys:
And at the Starbucks down the street. No really, they’re 24/7. And a drive-thru. It’s like heaven.
My books can be purchased, folded and first chapters read at Dreamspinner Press.
Follow the Tour to Get the Entire Investigation:
Sept 2 Love Bytes
Sept 3 Prism Alliance
Sept 4 Smoocher’s Voice
Sept 5 On Top Down Under Book Reviews
Sept 6 Fiction Vixen
Sept 7 Boy meets Boy
Sept 8 3 Chicks after Dark
Sept 9 Ndulgent Bloggers & MM Good Book Reviews
Sept 10 Rainbow Gold Reviews
Sept 11 Joyfully Jay
Sept 12 The Blogger Girls
Sept 13 The Novel Approach