Blog Tour & Giveaway: Down and Dirty by Rhys Ford

WOOOOOOOOT!  Rhys Ford is in the house!!!  She's here to talk about... about... oh my gawd I'm so excited... 

BOBBY'S BOOK!

SQUEEEEEEEEEE!

To celebrate the release of my new book, Down and Dirty, I’m inviting you to follow along with blog tour serial of a Cole McGinnis case, Dirty Minds! Enter to win a giveaway at every site!

From the moment former LAPD detective Bobby Dawson spots Ichiro Tokugawa, he knows the man is trouble. And not just because the much younger Japanese inker is hot, complicated, and pushes every one of Bobby’s buttons. No, Ichi is trouble because he’s Cole McGinnis’s younger brother and off-limits in every possible way. And Bobby knows that even before Cole threatens to kill him for looking Ichi’s way. But despite his gut telling him Ichi is bad news, Bobby can’t stop looking… or wanting.

Ichi was never one to play by the rules. Growing up in Japan as his father’s heir, he’d been bound by every rule imaginable until he had enough and walked away from everything to become his own man. Los Angeles was supposed to be a brief pitstop before he moved on, but after connecting with his American half-brothers, it looks like a good city to call home for a while—if it weren’t for Bobby Dawson.

Bobby is definitely a love-them-and-leave-them type, a philosophy Ichi whole-heartedly agrees with. Family was as much of a relationship as Ichi was looking for, but something about the gruff and handsome Bobby Dawson that makes Ichi want more.

Much, much more.

Rhys Ford’s Down and Dirty Giveaway
$20 Gift Certificate to the e-tailer of your choice If the blog uses a widget, enter there. If not, comment below. Winner to be chosen randomly. 

And now, for the moment you've all been waiting for...
 
Dirty Minds Part Two

I do not recommend landing in the middle of a busy Los Angeles street. If I’d had my preferences, I’d have wished the assholes in the minivan drove just one more fucking block and turned up Park View instead of Alvarado. At least that way, I would have had a fighting chance of skidding across fewer lanes or maybe even a wild right-hand bounce off of the asphalt and into a greensward.

Instead, I got a quick glimpse of Dr. Pacheco’s faded billboard plastered on the Wilshire-Alvarado Swap Meet building then all I saw was gritty, brown-cloud Los Angeles sky.

I also got a very hard, fast introduction to the excellent roadwork laid down by LA’s street crews.

Through a sheer miracle of luck, stupidity or a chance red light, the street was empty of vehicles. Unfortunately, that also meant there was nothing like a parked or idling car to stop me .

Despite the road crew’s best efforts to provide a smooth driving experience, there were definitely bumps in the road. I skidded and rolled over three-ish lanes of black top.My shoulder struck one and I tucked in to protect my face and hands. The black tuxedo jacket I’d just picked up from the cleaners took the brunt of the street’s rough surface. Anything left intact was then abraded and ripped apart as I rolled up the sloping curb. A tall palm growing on the edge of the park’s walk caught me before I could tumble into the obviously dangerous soft lawn and I came to a full stop, partially wrapped around the palm’s wide trunk.

I lay there gasping, turtled in a clump of long grasses someone’d thought to put around the palm’s base. I’d probably have to send that person a thank you card because the grasses were soft and cradled me while I did a quick limb check. A chatter of alarmed Spanish broke through my inventory of aches and pains then a very worried looking blond woman in an EMT uniform slid into my view of fronds and sky, her eyes a nearly impossible green I’d come to associate with wasabi peas.

“Sir, can you feel your legs?” She crouched next to me, running her hands over my legs. Attractive in that suntanned, healthy So-Cal kind of way, her golden ponytail bounced up and down through the hole in her ball cap but unsurprisingly, she did nothing for me.

Except find the scraped up spot on my knee.

“Okay, that’s missing skin,” I hissed. I tried sitting up. She protested but I insisted, moving her hand away as she tried to push me back down.

“No use. Unless his head’s cracked open and his brains are spilling out, he’s going to try to stand up. Might as well let him.” Bobby came into view, peering down at me with a judgmental scowl. “What the fucking hell were you thinking? Who the fuck in their right mind jumps on top of a moving van? Who cares if they’re stealing the damned wedding gifts? Just let the shit go.”

“Can’t… couldn’t,” I grumbled, taking his hand so I could get up out of the bushes. “Because those assholes didn’t just steal a fucking toaster. They took the grooms’ cat.”

Want to read more?  Check out these other awesome blog stops:

Down and Dirty Blog Tour
Dec 30 Part One — 3Chicks after dark
Dec 31 Part Two — Boy Meets Boy Reviews
Jan 1 Part Three — Joyfully Jay
Jan 2 Part Four — LoveBytes
Part Five — On Top Down Under
Jan 3 Part Six — Prism Alliance
Jan 4 Part Seven — It’s About The Book
Part Eight — The Blogger Girls
Jan 5 Part Nine — Sinfully Sexy
Jan 6 Part Ten — NDulgent Bloggers
Jan 7 Part Eleven — The Novel Approach
Jan 8 Part Twelve — Under the Covers Blog

Purchase Down and Dirty at Dreamspinner Press
Or Amazon

About Rhys Ford

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 an overworked red coffee maker.


My Blog: www.rhysford.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/rhys.ford.author
Twitter: https://twitter.com/Rhys_Ford

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.