Guest Post & Giveaway: Rhys Ford: Duck Duck Ghost
On Top Down Under is thrilled to welcome Rhys Ford for Part Four of the Duck Duck Ghost (Hellsinger #2) blog tour. Give her a huge welcome and make sure you comment on this post for a chance to win a cool prize from Rhys! Also, be sure to check out the other stops on this tour!
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, a dozen blogs as I parcel out a short tale featuring Wolf and Tristan!
Welcome to Hellsinger Investigations!
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 Pair of Alpaca!
Leave a comment at the bottom of this post 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 causalities reported at location. Cannot discount native population or transitory inhabitants prior to establishment of city boundaries.
Team: Gidget and Matt
Consultant: Tristan Pryce
Three am looked different every night, especially when they were on the job and the team hadn’t quite found their groove at their current location. Different yet with so much sameness, Gidget wondered if she just wasn’t stuck in some skewed time ouroboros’ belly. Kincaid would get them all set up, run Matt ragged for a few hours while she sat in their makeshift control room watching for orbs and moving objects and listening to the EMF readers chirrup and beep like R2-D2 on crack.
“Sheesh, have stupid sex once and you’re marked for life.” Matt set his camera gear down on the dining room’s floor then plopped down in the chair next to Gidget, his weight squishing the cushions and letting out a shooshing rush of air. “Kincaid just tore me a new asshole. No sex while in the house. Like I’d do that since—okay, not that I wasn’t thinking about it because you know, it’s you. How can I not? You’d think Kincaid would be a more forgiving now that he’s getting laid. Swear to God, he doesn’t change. It’s still all work-work-work.”
Matt’d certainly changed since she’d first joined Hellsingers. Back then, he’d been a round-faced geeky boy with a liking for fast food and little respect for her technical skills. They’d fought then one night, things changed. He’d changed and life went to a crazy place where she worked with possibly the hottest, most intense man she’d ever met but fell in love with the quirky sidekick.
Unless she was the quirky sidekick, in which case there was a good chance she’d be killed by the chain-saw wielding baby doll born from a torrid skankfest between a plastic dinosaur and Malibu Barbie.
“Not like he didn’t have sex at the Grange,” Matt continued, taking his glasses off to polish them on his t-shirt. “Why was it okay for him and not us?”
“Because we’d just gotten there, it was in the ballroom and it was stupidly unprofessional?” She smiled at Matt’s beleaguered sigh and patted his thigh in sympathy. An increasingly muscular thigh, strangely enough. “I thought you were looking different. Are you working out? Is that why you’re eating more salads? Are you going to the gym?”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he muttered sheepishly. “And yeah, a little bit. It’s in the building and it’s free. Don’t give me that look. It’s not about cleaving to society’s demands on me to look a certain way. Truth is, chasing after Kincaid is a fucking nightmare and I’m the one carrying a thirty pound camera. Fucker always is running up and down stairs. After about five minutes, I’m heaving up my lunch because I can’t keep up. So yeah, I kind of have to.”
“Well, shit.” Gidget leaned back in her chair, trying not to smile. “And here I thought you were doing it for me.”
“Nope, just for work.” Matt teased, smiling slowly. “Okay, maybe a little bit for—”
The howling began at a fever-pitch, screeching vocalizations pounding up into the upper ranges of Gidget’s tolerance. Their equipment picked up the steel nails on chalkboard modulations, slamming feedback out of every speaker in the room. Gidget’s headphones vibrated against the table, their padded earpieces quivering from the waves coming off of their interior receptors. Within moments, the howling stopped churning and settled down into a single horrifying pinprick of sound, sharp enough to pierce an eardrum.
A second later, it stopped, leaving behind a ringing in their ears and a tendril of smoke coming out of Gidget’s discarded headphones.
“Did you hear that? Did you catch that?” Wolf skidded into the room, catching his hand on the doorframe to anchor himself before he plowed into the card tables they’d set up to hold their camera monitors. “Fuck, that was awesome. Tell me something showed up. And while you’re at it, you might want to toss those headphones out. I think they’re on fire.”
Paranormal investigator Wolf Kincaid knows what his foot tastes like.
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.
Available from Dreamspinner on Sept 8 here.
Duck Duck Ghost Promo Tour
About Rhys Ford
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.
My Blog: www.rhysford.com
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.