Blog Tour, Excerpt and Giveaway: Dirty Job by TA Moore

So excited to have author TA Moore here to share a little about Dirty Job, her latest release!

Hi everyone!

Thanks for letting me pop in to talk about my latest book, Dirty Job, which comes out on July 5. This is the second book in the Dirty Deeds trilogy, and I had a lot of fun with it! It’s available online - - and I hope you like it! There’s a third book in the works, after all!

Here's the blurb:

Blurb: All Grade Pulaski wanted was a quiet life, a few low-profile murders to clean up after, and his hometown in the rear view as he headed back to LA. Simple, attainable goals. All he had to do was keep his nose down and everyone else’s hands far as the law was concerned...and he’d been able to show Sweeny his heels sooner rather than later.

Problem was that Grade’s ‘thing’ with local mob boss Clay Traynor—currently somewhere between a one-night stand and a bad idea—was a lot of things, but it wasn’t quiet or simple.

For example, Judge Charity Parker was the last person in Sweeny who needed to know Grade’s name. Yet here he was in her basement after midnight, cleaning up a mess that could derail a couple of political careers in one fell swoop. All because Clay owed Judge Parker a favor... or three.

Grade should have known better than to go along with it. Amateurs always made a job messy, and politicians didn’t have a grateful bone in their bodies. Now the only chance he had of seeing LA again meant he had to break his professional code of conduct.

He needed to get his client caught.

If you want a ‘taste’ of the Dirty Deeds world, here’s an exclusive exerpt from Dirty Job.


Clay opened the front door.

He’d not changed out of the suit or rolled his sleeves down. The sketchy red-and-black lines of his ink looked very dark in the last of the moonlight. Clay leaned against the doorframe, arms folded and one leg crossed in front of the other. His feet were bare.

Grade’s breath caught in the back of his throat, suddenly dry and scratchy.

“I wasn’t sure you’d still be up,” he said.

Clay looked amused as he tilted his head to the side. The throb of industrial music leaked out of the house from behind him. It was a good thing his neighbors were a fair distance away. “If I was a fan of early nights,” he said, “I wouldn’t take the sort of shit I take.”

That was the other reason to be grateful this thing wasn’t anything real. Otherwise Grade couldn’t have just ignored that. Where they stood right now, he could. And did.

“You going to invite me in?” he asked. “Or not?”

Clay glanced over his shoulder and hesitated for a beat. Then he shrugged and stepped to the side.

“What the hell, the hookers should have made themselves scarce by now,” he said and gestured grandly with one arm. “Mi casa es su casa.”

“If that was true,” Grade said, “you’d do your recycling.”

Clay laughed and headed back into the house, the door left open behind him.

“Considering the number of laws you break,” he tossed over his shoulder, “you worry an awful lot about following the rules.”

Grade stepped over the threshold and closed the door behind him.

“You know how many people end up in prison for a felony because the cops pulled them over for a bald tire and then found other evidence?” Grade asked.

Clay turned away and kept walking backward. “One,” he said. He was right. That was annoying. Clay grinned smugly at Grade. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Maybe,” Grade said sourly. “But I’m not going to make it two.”

Clay laughed at him and turned back around. There was a bottle of bourbon and a half-full glass on the coffee table, close enough to the speakers to make the liquid ripple. Clay grabbed another tumbler from the drinks cabinet and splashed a shot into it.

“How’d the cleanup go?” he asked as he held the glass out to Grade. He raised an eyebrow. “Everything done and dusted? No loose ends?”

The urge to check his phone—in case a message had come in from Harry in the last minute—made Grade’s fingers twitch.

“Nothing that worrying about it will fix,” Grade said as he stepped forward and ignored the glass. He grabbed the front of Clay’s shirt and pulled him into a hard bourbon-sweet kiss, the flavor of it chewed off Clay’s mouth. Before Clay could respond in kind, Grade pulled back just enough to ask against the damp seam of Clay’s lips, “So why don’t you take my mind off it?”

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 humor 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, and 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.

$10 Amazon Gift Card

Get your copy online -

Check out the team reviews at: