Sloe Ride (38 page)

“No beer?” He fought to get the cap off, then realized he was turning it the wrong direction. “Left to loose, right to tight. Unless it’s a piercing… or a countersink.”

Rafe waited a moment, and Quinn shot him a curious look. Grinning back, he said, “Just waiting to see if you kept going before I answered. And yeah, no beer. Not before a gig. We don’t want to go all Good Ole Blues Brothers Boys on the tab.”

Quinn searched his brain, then shrugged. “I don’t know what that means. I don’t think I’ve seen that one.”

“Oh, babe,” Rafe gasped, playfully clutching his chest. “Your brothers done did you wrong. I’ll take care of that this week, then. Probably something we can all popcorn and beer at Miki and Kane’s place.”

“Kane. I was going to ask Kane about William. He said something about an evaluation—”

“William’s never going to see the light of day, Q.” Rafe made a face. “Let’s leave him in the dark hole they tossed him in, okay?”

“Five minutes, guys!” A squirrelly, thin man shot through the band and their lovers, his headset sliding back on his sparse hair. “We’re good to go in five!”

Damie began to bounce even more, and Miki rolled his eyes, detaching from Kane’s arms. After giving Kane one last kiss, Miki shoved him to the front of the house. “Go find the family. Time for me to go be a rock star.”

“Take care of my Miki, you hear?” Kane stabbed a finger in Damie’s direction. The guitarist flipped him off, and Kane laughed. “Break a leg, Mick. I’ll be in front. Screaming your name like some fourteen-year-old girl.”

“Don’t think you can get your voice that high.” Sionn cut by Connor and Forest, tapping his cousin on the back as he went past. “I’ll be happy to be kicking you in the nuts if you really want to be giving that a try.”

“Thanks. No.” Kane shook his head. “Con! Come on. Brae’s holding tables for us.”

“Do good,
a ghra
,” Connor murmured through a kiss, then reluctantly let Forest go. “Have fun. Even if it’s work. Have fun with it.”

“It’s not work, Morgan,” Damie sneered. “This? This is as close to flying on your own wings that you’re ever going to get. Gonna be more than fun. It’s going to be awesome.”

“I better get going. Da’s probably trying to run herd on Mum right now. He’ll need backup.” Quinn squeezed Rafe’s hands gently. “Take care of you out there. Look for me if you can.”

“Can’t ever see a fucking thing because of the lights.” Rafe chuckled. “But I’ll do my damned best.”

“On in one! One, people!” The stage manager bustled back, nearly knocking Quinn over before righting himself.

Quinn stepped to the side, taking one last look at the man he’d fallen for so many years ago. Rafe stood shoulder to shoulder with his band, the three men he’d come to trust and love as much as he did the Morgans—maybe even as much as he loved Quinn.

Forest nudged Rafe in the elbow, their smiles more in comforting than anything else. They would be the new part of an old equation, pieces fitted in between a pair of brothers soldered together in both tragedy and joy. Rafe slung on his bass, adjusting it slightly while Damien hooked his guitar strap over his neck. Miki’d taken up Damien’s bounce, a slower beat but still a roiling of his body on the balls of his feet. Their fingers grazed, a brief touch between singer and guitarist and obviously a ritual performed before every gig.

The lights in the house flashed, and a deep, Italian-accented voice rumbled through the club’s speakers, urging everyone to get up onto their feet to welcome the best fucking band to come out of Chinatown and Dino’s.

Quinn was stepping off of the last step from backstage to the floor when the stage lights splashed up to full, and Dino’s voice yelled over the tightly packed crowd’s screaming.

“Make some noise for a band that’s here for the first time—
again
—at Dino’s Bar and Grill! Ladies and gentlemen, I give you—
Crossroads Gin
.”

There’s a dead man in Miki St. John’s vintage Pontiac GTO, and he has no idea how it got there.

After Miki survives the tragic accident that killed his best friend and the other members of their band, Sinner’s Gin, all he wants is to hide from the world in the refurbished warehouse he bought before their last tour. But when the man who sexually abused him as a boy is killed and his remains are dumped in Miki’s car, Miki fears Death isn’t done with him yet.

Kane Morgan, the SFPD inspector renting space in the art co-op next door, initially suspects Miki had a hand in the man’s murder, but Kane soon realizes Miki is as much a victim as the man splattered inside the GTO. As the murderer’s body count rises, the attraction between Miki and Kane heats up. Neither man knows if they can make a relationship work, but despite Miki’s emotional damage, Kane is determined to teach him how to love and be loved—provided, of course, Kane can catch the killer before Miki becomes the murderer’s final victim.

www.dreamspinnerpress.com

He was dead. And it was murder most foul. If erasing a man’s existence could even be called murder.

When Damien Mitchell wakes, he finds himself without a life or a name. The Montana asylum’s doctors tell him he’s delusional and his memories are all lies: he’s really Stephen Thompson, and he’d gone over the edge, obsessing about a rock star who died in a fiery crash. His chance to escape back to his own life comes when his prison burns, but a gunman is waiting for him, determined that neither Stephen Thompson nor Damien Mitchell will escape.

With the assassin on his tail, Damien flees to the City by the Bay, but keeping a low profile is the only way he’ll survive as he searches San Francisco for his best friend, Miki St. John. Falling back on what kept him fed before he made it big, Damien sings for his supper outside Finnegan’s, an Irish pub on the pier, and he soon falls in with the owner, Sionn Murphy. Damien doesn’t need a complication like Sionn, and to make matters worse, the gunman—who doesn’t mind going through Sionn or anyone else if that’s what it takes to kill Damien—shows up to finish what he started.

www.dreamspinnerpress.com

Miki St. John’s life has been turned upside down, but it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

His best friend, Damien Mitchell, is back from the dead. He has a dog named Dude. And more importantly, he and his lover, SFPD Inspector Kane Morgan, now share Miki’s converted warehouse.

For the first time ever, Miki’s living a happy and normal-ish life, but when Valentine’s Day rolls around, Miki realizes he knows next to nothing about being domestic or domesticated. Nothing about the traditional lover’s holiday makes sense to him, but Miki wants to give Kane a Valentine’s Day the man will never forget.

Can he pull off a day of wine and roses? Or will his screwed-up childhood come back and bite Miki in the ass?

Again.

www.dreamspinnerpress.com

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.

www.dreamspinnerpress.com

R
HYS
F
ORD
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 of a 1979 Pontiac Firebird, a Toshiba laptop, and an overworked red coffee maker.

Rhys can be found at the following locations:

Blog: www.rhysford.com

Facebook: www.facebook.com/rhys.ford.author

Twitter: @Rhys_Ford

The British Empire reigns supreme, and its young Queen Victoria has expanded her realm to St. Francisco, a bustling city of English lords and Chinese ghettos. St. Francisco is a jewel in the Empire’s crown and as deeply embroiled in the conflict between the Arcane and Science as its sister city, London—a very dark and dangerous battle.