Title: Shiftless
Publisher:Rogue Firebird Press
Release: June 19
Link: https://books2read.com/shiftless-tamoore
Blurb: Night Shift is the city's thin, silver line- and some nights it's thinner than others.
It isn't the fact he almost died last night that's thrown Night Shift officer Kit Marlow. He's used to that. It's the fact that instead of a werewolf trying to rip his throat out, it was his friend and colleague who tried to put him in the ground.
Well, 'friend.'
Now Marlow's been framed for a murder he didn't commit by a man who's committed more than his fair share. Half the cops in San Diego want to see Marlow behind bars for what he's supposedly done, and the other half want him dead before he can tell his side of the story. The problem is that he can't tell them apart.
There's only one person in town that Marlow can trust, even though he knows he shouldn't drag Cade Deacon into his problems. The sharp-tongued CEO of a private security firm might have gotten close to Marlow over the last few weeks, but taking on the SDPD is a lot to ask.
Marlow doesn't have much choice, though. If he can't clear his name before the last full moon of the month sets, he might not see another one. That'd be a shame since Marlow would really like to spend the night with Cade without needing protective gear.
Tour:
First of all, thank you so much for having me! I’m thrilled to be here with my new release, Shiftless by TA Moore, which completes the Night Shift trilogy! I believe it is still technically a novella, although it’s the novella that kicked the other novellas out of the nest and ate all the food!
For the blog tour I’ve written a short story set in the Night Shift world. I hope you enjoy!
Chapter Five
Habit made Marlow fight.
He drove the heel of his hand into the side of one of the men’s elbows. It popped the wrong way, and the man stumbled back with a strangled howl. Marlow snapped an elbow back into someone’s stomach, hard enough to make them grunt and loosen his grip on him.
For a second, the path to ‘out’ was laid out in his brain like a blueprint. He snapped his head forward into one of the men’s masked face. The snap and spray of blood through the thin knit fabric said he’d connected with the nose, not the teeth. They staggered back, one hand up to catch the ooze of blood.
Now all he had to do was shake the man on his right and head for the door. The plan petered out around that point, but he could work it out on the move.
He twisted around and threw a punch. His knuckles missed the man’s nose as he jerked his head back, but caught him in the point of his chin. The impact snapped the man’s mouth shut and made his eyes—the glimpse of blue visible through the eye-slit—water. He staggered back, and Marlow lunged for the door, swung open on broken hinges.
Two steps.
That was how far he got before a swung baton caught him on the front of his knee. He felt it go, a weirdly painless elastic snap, and then his leg gave way, and he pitched forward. The graceless somersault ended early, face down on the floor with the wind knocked out of him. A knee—whose he couldn’t tell—pressed down painfully in the small of his back as someone yanked Marlow’s arms back to snap cuffs on them.
“Fucker,” someone said, voice thick and half-choked.
“He’s Night Shift. Did you expect him to go down easy?”
The laugh was mean. “I expected him to be wearing pants.”
Rough hands dragged Marlow to his feet. A hand slapped his ass. The flashfire sting of it briefly distracted Marlow from the ruined throb of his knee. Tears stung his eyes, not because of the pain but from the sudden, deep bite of embarrassment.
“Get him out of here,” one of the men said. “You know where to go. I’ll clean house here.”
They dragged him out onto the street, past his newly restored car, and shoved him into the trunk of the aggressively nondescript car parked across his driveway. Panic was dry and tight in his throat as the lid slammed down, and a second later, the engine started.
In the dim light that leaked into the trunk through the broken tail-light, Marlow could see the SDPD branding on the TAC gear under him.
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Read the rest of the story on www.tamoorewrites.com tomorrow!
Author Bio:
TA MOORE
TA Moore is a Northern Irish writer of romantic suspense, urban fantasy, and contemporary romance novels. A childhood in a rural, seaside town fostered in her a suspicious nature, a love of mystery, and a streak of black humour a mile wide. As her grandmother always said, ‘she’d laugh at a bad thing that one’, mind you, that was the pot calling the kettle black. TA Moore studied History, Irish mythology, English at University, mostly because she has always loved a good story. She has worked as a journalist, a finance manager, and in the arts sectors before she finally gave in to a lifelong desire to write.
Coffee, Doc Marten boots, and good friends are the essential things in life. Spiders, mayo, and heels are to be avoided.
Website: www.tamoorewrites.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TAMoorewrites/
Twitter: @tamoorewrites
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