City of Hate

City of Hate
Timothy S. Miller

Trade paperback
235 pages
ISBN-10 : 0998555444
ISBN-13 : 978-0998555447

The Virgin Mother’s image — a moldy shadow with patches of holy light — has appeared under the Triple Underpass right next to the Grassy Knoll. The image of the Virgin Mother — so close to the site where JFK was assassinated — brings believers to pay their respects and to ponder its meaning.

But Hal Scott has more to worry about than the Virgin Mother.

Recovering alcoholic, lover of secrets, and quickly approaching middle-age, Scott discovered his best friend dead in his downtown Dallas apartment. And all fingers point to Scott as the murderer.

There is a conspiracy under way, and it is tied to a gubernatorial campaign, illicit photographs, and a video that will undermine the election. And more than likely get Hal Scott killed.

The only one Scott can turn to is “Lemon” — the self-proclaimed bastard son of Lee Harvey Oswald. Lemon’s mother owns Conspiracy Books, just blocks away from the old Texas School Book Depository, and she used to dance at the Carousel Club, owned by the notorious Jack Ruby. The FBI, the CIA, and the John Birch Society all want what Lemon has discovered in her mouldering attic. What he found is bigger than them all, and there will be a price to pay for it exposure.

Timothy S. Miller lives in Dallas, Texas with his wife and daughter. He’s been a ranch hand, waiter, contract driver, professional clown, and spent over ten years working in office services for two prestigious Wall Street-based firms. He graduated with his B.A. in Literature and Writing from the University of Montana, Western.

Indiebound | Amazon | Barnes & Noble

“Gritty, violent, profane and often oddly comic.”

—Tyler Hicks, Dallas Observer

City of Hate is a bizarre and beautiful crime novel about conspiracies and political malevolence.”

—Foreword Reviews

“A style so noir you can almost smell the cigarette smoke. A highly entertaining read.”

—That Guy Reading

“[A] moody and philosophical noirscape, which reads like a gothic love letter to the city of Dallas.”

—Pete Bradt, The Furious Gazelle