Giveaway + Blog Tour: Liar, Liar by T.A. Moore

T.A. Moore is here today & she's brought along a Giveaway to promote her newest release! 

See the details below!

I have always aspired to amorality. Unfortunately, the evidence of a lifetime suggests that I just don’t have it in me. Unlike Jacob, I’m an awful liar and a premature confessor. So it was fun, for Liar, Liar, to put on the skin of professional fibber Jacob Archer. He might not be a stranger to the truth, but he does hide around corners from it a lot.

It was a lot of fun to write, although he’d admit it’s a pretty exhausting way to live!

Anyhow, I hope you give Liar, Liar a go! I enjoyed writing it, and I think people will enjoy reading it. To whet your appetite, here’s an exclusive glimpse at the characters just before the start of the book.

Check here to find the other extracts:

Title: Liar, Liar
Author: TA Moore
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Cover Artist: Anne Cain
Genre: Romantic Thriller
Release Date: 12 May 2017


Just another day at the office.

For some people that means spreadsheets, and for others it’s stitching endless hems. For Jacob Archer a day at the office is stealing proprietary information from a bioengineering firm for a paranoid software billionaire. He’s a liar and a thief, parlaying a glib tongue and a facile conscience into a lucrative career. He just has one rule—never get involved with a mark.

Well, had one rule. To be fair, though, Simon Ramsey is dark, dangerous, and has shoulders like a Greek statue. Besides, it’s not as though Jacob’s even really stealing from Simon… just his boss and his brother-in-law. Simon didn’t buy that excuse either after he caught Jacob breaking into the company’s computer network.

That would have been that—one messy breakup, one ticket to Bali booked—but it turns out that the stolen information is worth more than Jacob thought. With his life—and his ribs—threatened, Jacob needs Simon to help him out. Or maybe he just needs Simon.

Cover Artist: Anne Cain

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Extract Five

When Simon stripped his shirt off, Jacob expected the long, brutally efficient straps of muscle and arrow-lean torso. The scattering of scars on his body hadn’t been part of his mental picture, but he supposed they made sense. The man had taken out the thugs in the alley with the sort of deceptively easy precision that you didn’t get unless you got in a lot of fights.
The one on Simon’s shoulder still gave him pause. It looked an explosion frozen in flesh, all jagged lines and cross-hatched surgical scars.
“Fuck.” Jacob paused with his t-shirt dragged over his head but still tangled around his elbows. Simon folded his shirt, his body held carefully with a sort of self-conscious stiffness. “I wish I’d seen that before I spent four flights whining about my bruises.”
A smile caught on the corners of Simon’s mouth, and then disappeared again.
“Are you sure you’re making good decisions right now?” he asked. “After what happened…”
Jacob finished dragging his t-shirt over his head and tossed it in the direction of the couch. His stomach had that solid, nagging ache that promised a bruise tomorrow.
“You saved me from getting my ass kicked.” He reached out and grabbed the waistband of Simon’s jeans. “I want to say thank you.”
Simon resisted the tug. Since he appeared to be six foot plus of bone and muscle, it wasn’t hard.
“You don’t have to.”
“Shut up and come here.”
Whatever qualm that Simon was struggling with gave up the ghost and this time he let Jacob drag him closer. He caught Jacob’s face between his hands, fingers tangled in his hair, and tilted it back to slant a rough, hungry kiss over his mouth. The kiss claimed Jacob’s mouth, a fierce demand. Jacob leaned into it, their tongues tangled and breath hot, as he unbuttoned Simon’s jeans and shoved them down.
They didn’t get as far as the bedroom. Instead they tumbled onto the couch in a tangle of legs and not-kicked-off-yet jeans. Hands slid over sweaty skin, teeth left marks, and any ache that Jacob had in the morning was going to be well-earned.
His brain was insisting there was something he should remember, but between the adrenaline from nearly getting beaten up, the lingering buzz, and the distraction of Simon’s mouth around him...he told it to wait until later.

The shrill sound of a phone woke Jacob at an unholy hour of the morning. He groaned and reached for it, confused by the dead weight of one side.
After a second his brain caught up with his body. Not his phone, and the owner was the weight pinning him down. It was a single bed, with a crappy Ikea mattress that unrolled. There wasn’t much room to not squash each other.
“What time is it?” Jacob peeled one eye open and closed it again as the light hit him. It took him a second before he tried again. He rolled onto his back and watched Simon climb over him and get off the bed. It was a nice view.
“Five am.”
“Holy crap, why?”
“It’s morning.”
“I do not know who told you that, but they weren’t your friend.”
Simon snorted, that there and gone again smile sliding over his face, and leaned over to drop a kiss on Jacob’s mouth. Despite the hour, Jacob felt a lazy twitch of interest between his legs. He hooked his hand around the nape of Simon’s neck and pulled him back down.
“You don’t have to leave yet,” he said. “It’s still a one night stand, long as you leave before dawn.”
For a second he thought Simon was going to go along with it. He could feel the long, hard body sway toward him, then the other man groaned and pushed himself up off the bed.
“I have to go into work.”
Jacob sighed and let him go. He folded his arms behind his head and watched with appreciation as Simon got dressed. If he wasn’t going to get laid this morning, he might as well log the view for later.
“It’s Sunday.”
Simon pulled his shirt on. He’d denied the arm hurt the night before, but he was cautious with it as he got dressed.
“I’m a security consultant,” he said. “Sometimes the hours aren’t forgiving.”
Even before he’d done it for a living, Jacob had been a really good liar. It was still a good thing that Simon had turned away to pick up his jeans as he said that, because it felt like Jacob’s true feelings were written on his face.
Shit. Shit.
Simon. That’s what he’d needed to remember last night. Ex-Marine Simon, the asshole who’d helped make Syntech’s security protocols so irritatingly close to perfect.
How the hell had he missed that?
“You ok?” Simon asked. He looked curiously at Jacob. “I’d stay if I could, but--”
“Hey, a one night stand I don’t have to share my toast with? Not complaining,” Jacob said. “Just admiring the view.”
It was fine. He’d not expected to see the freaking head of Syntech security playing white knight last night, and the guy was even better looking in person than he was in pictures. It didn’t matter. If his plans worked out he’d not cross paths with Simon again.
Besides, it was a one night stand. Who remembered one of those once you’d reached the pavement outside?
Simon shoved his hand through his hair. The smile came back and hung around a bit longer this time. He looked like he didn’t smile enough. “I enjoyed meeting you, Jacob,” he said. “I’m glad I was the one who saved your ass.”
“Me too,” Jacob said.
It was even the truth. That didn’t happen often. It was a good thing Jacob wasn’t going to be seeing this guy again. He might get into bad habits.


TA Moore genuinely believed that she was a Cabbage Patch Kid when she was a small child. This was the start of a lifelong attachment to the weird and fantastic. These days she lives in a market town on the Northern Irish coast and her friends have a rule that she can only send them three weird and disturbing links a month (although she still holds that a DIY penis bifurcation guide is interesting, not disturbing). She believes that adding ‘in space!’ to anything makes it at least 40% cooler, will try to pet pretty much any animal she meets (this includes snakes, excludes bugs), and once lied to her friend that she had climbed all the way up to Tintagel Castle in Cornwall, when actually she’d only gotten to the beach, realized it was really high, and chickened out.

She aspires to being a cynical misanthrope, but is unfortunately held back by a sunny disposition and an inability to be mean to strangers. If TA Moore is mean to you, that means you’re friends now.

Twitter: @tammy_moore

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