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.

Title: Shiftless

Publisher: Rogue Firebird Press

Release: June 19

Amazon

Book 1: Shift Work

Book 2: Split Shift

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 Four

It was a re-run.

Half the programs Marlow had TiVo’d were re-runs. There wasn’t a lot of downtime when you were on the Night Shift or training to get into the academy. Marlow had missed a lot of must-see programming over the years. Some of it was just comfort food, though—old enough that the last time anyone had talked about it around the water-cooler, it had been weekly.

This month it was Quincy. He’d watched it the first time around with his grandmother—probably, he couldn’t remember it, but she’d never missed an episode—and there was something comforting about how simple life was on the show. Murders happened, sure, but if Quincy didn’t solve them with his coroner’s experience, he’d sniff out the killer on the full moon.

Handy trick that.

Marlow sprawled back in the bed and watched the flannel-faced detective scowl intently over a slide before he raced off to save the day. Despite the soporific effect of sentimentality, Marlow’s brain wouldn’t shut off.

He wanted to be wrong.

For a good six months, every time he felt uneasy about a call Piper made or didn’t make, he’d told himself he was wrong. Of course he was. They were Night Shift, the good guys of a hundred stories. Piper was a goddamn legend, a literal poster boy for the department.

Except… he wasn’t.

His phone buzzed next to the bed. He grabbed it in case it was Gil—he might not be scheduled to work, but he was still on call every night until the moon waned—but Bennett’s name was stamped over the text notification.

Marlow flicked it open.

Why were you at the Crate? I told you to let it go. It’s not your problem.

Marlow really wished that was true, too. He set the phone back on the bedside table without answering Bennett and flicked the TV off. It hadn’t been Gil that time, but if she did call him in, he’d rather have gotten some sleep.

By rights, it should have taken him half the night to grab some shut-eye. His head was stuffed with unresolved doubts and questions. His body knew better. His head hit the pillow, and he was out.

His dreams weren’t peaceful, but they didn’t disturb his rest either.

What woke him up was the crack of his door being kicked in.

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