Wednesday, 14 September 2016

#BookTour!!! People In Glass Houses and Exclusive Excerpt By Tim Hemlin

Author Tim Hemlin has returned to bring us the 3rd installment of the Neil Marshall Mysteries! In June we featured IF WISHES WERE HORSES and A WHISPER OF RAGE and now we are excited to share with you the next book called PEOPLE IN GLASS HOUSES - come join us on this tour!

Congressional candidate Chip Gunn figures he has the election in the palm of his hand. But when Gunn’s guard is stabbed during a high profile fund-raising event catered by chef and amateur sleuth Neil Marshall, all hell breaks loose.
Things only get worse when the victim vanishes and Neil’s assistant is left holding a bloody knife. Quickly, a lethal mystery unravels and Neil and his friends learn that people in glass houses don’t throw stones. They shoot to kill . . .

Tim Hemlin is a graduate of the University of New Hampshire, having studied with poets Charles Simic and Mekeel McBride.  He has published in poetry journals, anthologies, and magazines--most notably in Ellery Queen.  Currently he has six published novels, two short stories and is included in an anthology.

By day he is an educator; however after teaching ELA for 22 years he decided to put his master's degree to work and is now a high school counselor.  In addition, he is an avid marathoner, fly-fisherman, and outdoorsman.  He lives just outside Houston, Texas with his wife Valerie, two dogs and a cantankerous cat.

Connect with the Author here: 

Nervous as I was, I could’ve prepared a six-course meal complete with sorbet between the fish and the meat. That reminded me of the time I was readying a meal for one of the Texas senators and Elizabeth Dole was the guest of honor. I was fixing a raspberry sorbet. It was the night after a huge job when all the wait staff helped put up the food and kitchen utensils. As I was allowing the sorbet to set, my little voice told me to taste-test the concoction. After having worked with a recipe so long, I often didn’t check it until the culinary delight was complete—and many times we were at the job site. This time I ran my finger through the raspberry sorbet in Perry Stevens fashion, and came up with a mouthful of salt. After spitting the mixture into the sink, I ran to the sugar and tested the top layer—salt. Someone had inadvertently dumped the canister of salt into the sugar bin thinking the travel container held just that—sugar. Angry as I was, I was grateful I’d come across the faux pas at The Kitchen and not shortly before we were to serve it to the good senator and the honored secretary of transportation.

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