Only Love

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Only Love

Love is a word that is loosely thrown around in our world today…guess that’s okay because it is difficult to see how the word can be used in a pejorative way unless someone is using it like a gun or knife in a psychopathic or sociopathic way.

We take for granted comments like, “I love the way that movie played out!” or “I love this book!” or “I love this juicy apple!” or “I love football!” We all get the connotation when ‘love’ is invoked in this way. Very few among us would disagree that love is a most special word, a short formation of letters that goes a long way in expressing our innermost emotions for a human being, a pet, or…

Love as a noun occupies a much loftier position than the verb, in my most humble opinion. The word is in many ways sacrosanct – sacred and on the same plane as faith. “The love of God” generally conveys “faith in God” and becomes juxtaposed with our souls and theology. We can wish as a nation and as a world that this love was more encompassing and endearing.

Of course, the most emotional, exciting, exhilarating, and physically orgasmic is the love between a man and a woman, yet, not exclusively, as our world assuredly now knows of ‘same sex’ harmonious relationships. With no wish to alienate or doubt its verity and because I am most definitely hetero, I confine these comments to ‘man/woman’.

I have known those exquisite moments of love when a kiss launches me into a mad swirl of feverish passion, when all senses are focused on but one space in time, on a delirious and delicious hunger. I have known those moments when love is not with me, when I sit alone, feel the pangs of loneliness, write my lines of dubious poetry to the one who occupies my heart and mind. I have known those moments when love is threatened by insecurity and jealousy, when doubt finally leaves and I drink once more from the sweet chalice of love’s reuniting. I have alas known love’s withdrawal and the long weeks and months of despair, only to find again another coupling of hearts.

Love both blinds and gives us light. Love is one journey or it is many, and those who know of what I speak well know that, true to that soaring pursuit, it will ultimately come to spend a lifetime with us.

Love and Faith can bring gentle measures of equanimity and peace to a wayward heart and soul.

Though we can use love as our verbs, my preference is the noun. As with Faith, without love, we can be lost.

NOW, why have I briefly written about love and faith?

Two reasons, the first, innocuous enough, I hope…I simply wanted to write about love and faith because they have been so much a part of my life – superfluously, among other abstract notions. The second, rather selfish, I’m afraid… You see, I have written a romance novel which is not the typical romance novel. It has love, faith, of course, and it also has murder, mystery, and suspense.

The novel is called, Butterflies and Jellybeans – A Love Story. Don’t let the title fool you. It is my belief that ‘romance’ readers will find it to their liking – at least, that is my hope. I have shared my internet marketing ineptness in previous posts, and it’s my feeling this book should sell very well…hopefully, you will prove me right. If you do read Butterflies and Jellybeans, please tell a friend about it and/or write a review on Amazon.

Butterfly Jellybeans Nook Size

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Below I’m required (and proud) to list my blog awards.

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From Where I Sit

Bill Chitwood-250

From Where I Sit

Fingers poised over the laptop, looking out across the valley at the far bluff and horizon, how can there be any evil in the world? The silent serenity through that large window encompasses all and sweetly softens my senses. The leaves on the trees, regal and tall, stir not a whisper. The sun shines gloriously down on this natural delight of God’s good work. How dare the scenes of blood, fallen bodies, and war drums beating come as unbidden echoes in my mind…if a tree falls in the woods and no one is there, is there still sound? Dear God, I fear it must be so!

A cloud passes and temporarily blots out the precious sun as though validating those unbidden echoes. I force away the ugly thoughts of dying and evil, at least to the periphery of awareness and think what clever inventions of my mind can endure me to my readers.

To my rescue comes George the Bengal cat (his grandmother was an Asian leopard cat). George stoically stares up at me and meows timidly for his noon-time treat – three little chicken-flavored ‘Temptations’. He eats them quickly and wanders over and lies under one of the great room chairs, looking out that same big window that produces nature’s portrait…and I wonder: does he think? If he does think, what is it he thinks about? Those trees he would like to climb – except he has been deprived his front paw claws?

See how easy it is to get away from the troubles of the world? Sort of like playing nine rounds of golf with basketball buddies at Martha’s Vineyard…

Okay, it’s too important, I have to write something! It is all I’m left to do. I’ll start with this excerpt from a Fox News report…

British Prime Minister David Cameron vowed to confront radical Islam “at home and abroad” and the United Kingdom raised its terror level to “severe”  in the wake of new revelations about Islamic State’s butchery in Syria and Iraq.

Cameron, speaking from 10 Downing Street, said Britain’s problem with homegrown radical jihadists joining the bloody battle engulfing the Middle East and threatening attacks on the west must be addressed with tough action.

“This is not some foreign conflict thousands of miles away that we can hope to ignore,” the Conservative Party leader said. “The ambition to create an extremist caliphate in the heart of Iraq and Syria is a threat to our own security here in the UK. And that is in addition to the many other Al Qaeda-inspired terrorist groups that exist in that region. The first ISIL terrorist attacks on the continent of Europe have already taken place.”

“We cannot appease this ideology,” the Conservative Party leader said. “We have to confront it at home and abroad. To do this we need a tough, intelligent, patient, comprehensive approach to defeat the terrorist threat at its source.

Cameron’s words came one day after U.S. President Barack Obama said the U.S. is not contemplating imminent action against Islamic State in Syria.

“I don’t want to put the cart before the horse. We don’t have a strategy yet,” Obama said Thursday.

No tirade here! It just seems to me we must have a strategy, patient, yes, but aggressive as well. Waiting until the deaths of innocent people mount up, until another extremist caliphate is added to the Islamic empire list, until the wicked warriors and weaponry drift into America, cannot be a sober option.

What is it that I am not getting? These terrorists are cutting off heads, killing infidels, Christians and Jews, vowing to dominate the world. They are criminally rich, recruiting followers all over the world to join them, claiming to ultimately raise their flag at our own US White House. Killing is their culture. It is what they do and have been doing for thousands of years. Why would the US wait until tens of thousands more die before setting goals and objectives? These terrorists want to kill us, and appeasement, rhetoric and diplomacy are not going to solve the problem. The goal is to win the war over terrorists. Losing is not an option!

George is thirteen, old in man-years like me, and he is now napping at my feet…yeah, I know, you’re telling me to take a nap! (And I will, sooner or later.) The sun is still shining and nature’s poetry is just outside my window. Why are the worries of the world out there, too?

I’m just a man who likes to write, a person who tries to keep up with his world… Perception is not always reality, but, from where I sit, that’s the way I see it.

By the way, my new book, A Common Evil, is out…hope you get a chance to read it and review it on amazon.

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BUY SITE:  http://authl.it/1r2 (Amazon Worldwide)

Billy Ray Chitwood

http://www.about.me/brchitwood

http://twitter.com/brchitwood (@brchitwood)

http://billyraychitwood.weebly.com (My twelve books, my blog, reviews)

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Was Einstein Right?

Bill Chitwood-250

Was Einstein Right?

“I fear the day that technology will surpass our human interaction. The world will have a generation of idiots.”

Okay, perhaps it is natural that an aging crustacean (as in ‘Crab’!) like me should be writing a post like this…you know how we are: grumpy, bitching and moaning about this and about that. But, know what? We have never been here in this place!

This place?

This place in the chronology of humankind! This place where cell phones are accessories to killing people on our streets…this place where a romantic dinner is interrupted by the musical chime-ring of the latest ‘carry along do-it-all’ world data gatherer and communication gadget that everyone just has to have – sort of like the past when we tried to keep up with the Jones or Smiths…this place where the intellectually informed folks who maybe ought to know what is happening in their country and world are not making the rounds so much…this place where the new games on these weirdly-wired gadgets show the blood and gore of our imaginary kills…

You know this place of which I speak, and, yes, technology has its upside – the dictionary is there in your pocket or your purse to check the big word someone used while trying to impart something boring and unimportant.  That little gadget can allow you to really blast someone you do not like, call her/him names, make threatening and obscene remarks, and you can even do it anonymously. What a sweet deal! You can be the bully without getting punched in the nose!

Oh, there are a few who are not so addicted to this great technology of ours that they have time to see armies clashing around the world…they have time to see the ineptness of our own government in forming goals and objectives for countering the new world of terrorists – or, should I be politically correct and say ‘radical Islamists’? Well, you know of whom I speak, those creepy crawling bugs that have been around for thousands of years spewing their hatred and genocidal actions, vowing to kill all infidels and to rule the world… Yes, those of you playing your monster games, these terrorists are infiltrating our countries, our cities, and the minds of their youth, finding it easier and easier to corrupt and dislodge great historical principles and wisdom, ‘shredding’ documents and laws by which generic man has lived in hope and security.

We have made a few blunders in our living… We have given too much to those who would wish us harm and death. We have misread the tea-leaves of history too often. We have made noble efforts to make our country and the world a better place. Despite our blunders, we are the bold and the good of everyman. Are we now to somehow prove to the world we were frauds in our ideals? Damned tootin! I’m talking about America, the greatest nation on earth. We all thought that was the case. Are we not still? All countries in the world look toward our shores, many relying on us not only for support, monetary and otherwise, in their times of crises.

We got to this place somehow, maybe through all the doubling and re-doubling of knowledge that brought us tremendous growth in technology – and those cursed chatty cell phones…wonderful inventions but easy substitutes for our real selves. Scientific knowledge and technology are good but it seems in so many ways we are making them bad. This place in which we find ourselves can be very scary and depressing. We need government leaders of grand vision and wisdom who can ignite that greatness that I felt and saw during the greatest generation, leaders who do the peoples’ business without posturing and wavering with the tools Science and Technology have provided. We do not have to stay in this place! We need to kill the ‘terrorist bugs’ that are attempting to fulfill their ‘virginal’ quests.   

We might find Einstein was partially right in his observation…but, idiots, we are not, even those using the cell phones, playing their games and forgetting how to socialize without cell phone messaging.

We are, after all, the United States of America. As our English brethren might intone in Winston Churchill’s fashion, “Let’s show these buggers what we have!”

By Billy Ray Chitwood 

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Amazon Worldwide – http://authl.it/1r2

Yes, I’m bad! Plugging my new book – the sixth and likely the final book in the Bailey Crane Mystery Series. Each of the books in the series stand alone… Really, shouldn’t you read these books? They’re fun reads, and Bailey always gets the bad guys! All twelve of my books (mystery, suspense, romance, memoir, politics, government) are presented on http://billyraychitwood.weebly.com.

http://www.about.me/brchitwood 

 

  

Tilt

 

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Tilt

Smoking was not allowed in the dimly lit arcade but the scent of marijuana was strong, carried in by its users, the odor clinging to the clothes, mixing with body sweat, cheap perfume, after shave, and competitive fear emanating from the players’ pores. Curse words, groans, grunts, and the constant electronic sounds spewed forth from the machines…the roaring motors of race cars, bomb bursts, gun battles, beeps, and harsh monotonic whirs of games gone tilt from constant pounding and use. The big warehouse-like building held them all – the common and now highly sophisticated pinball machines, war battle machines for single or double play with hand-held remotes, car racing machines, more complicated and different versions of Pac-Man… All were there.

The big room was crowded with teenagers and adults, male and female. For me it was rather fascinating to see this different culture, this rapt attention to machines. My bored editor felt a good public interest piece could be garnered from my visit to ‘Tilt’, a relatively new enterprise begun just a month prior by two Chinese investors… The only reason for my editor’s interest, he had passed the ‘Tilt’ on the way to his bank and saw so many people and their cars filling up the parking lot – he had not known that arcades still possessed such drawing power.

Walking among the crowd I got jostled several times by the over-exuberant players, not even mindful that they had touched me…so rapt was their self-involvement. The noise was not so shatteringly loud. It was just pesky, like the steady hum of a bunch of houseflies. I found it fascinating, the taut serious faces of the crowd lost in the moments of conquest, fighting these mechanical bulks of electronic imagery.

Paused behind a large teenager, his face covered with acne and perspiration, his arms and hands frantically moving the hand-held objects to stay some ultimate course and reach a high-scoring goal, a flying elbow came at me, caught me flush on the temple, and I went down, confused and stunned by the sudden swirling of the room. I tried to get up, but my body swayed and the entire area around me began to sway and rattle madly. Bolts and metals parts came flying dangerously close by me. I closed my eyes, shook my head, sure that I must be hallucinating. When I opened again my eyes, the scene was worse.

The machines became shadowy floating objects of different colors, blue, green, red, yellow, and I was ducking out of their way as they went by me. Then I saw the floor ahead of me coming apart, ripping, becoming a gaping one-foot aperture, getting wider as it came toward me. The crowd began screaming. The machines became a cacophonous roar, their bright colors disappearing in dissonant swoons all around me.

I reached for a shiny metal wall rail which seemed unaltered by the clamor. There I clung, both hands grasping tightly the round metal, while bodies and the machines were sucked downward into the jagged fissure. I screamed but could not hear my voice. A blond lady who resembled my wife came flailing toward me, her face fixed in disbelief and horror, her hands reaching out to me for help. But I could not let go of the rail.

Then came the turbulent wind! Now I could see grotesque images of men and women, their hair seemingly drawn straight out from their scalps to become part of the landscape of terror. My body was rigid there on the rail and unaccountably not in discomfort. As my mind registered that thought the world went black and deathly silent…

The grayness slowly spread itself into light, hazy at first but growing into a purity of brightness. The brightness came with forms and sounds…beeping sounds and voices with echoic effects. My mind was initially reluctant to accept possibilities of this current reality, but slowly it made its way to a conclusion, just as the purity of brightness gained contour and completeness.

It was a hospital room, my mind suggested, not a heaven nor a hell nor an alien planet. Now from the echoic voices came the solid enunciations of some recognition. Was my wife in the room, noticing my stirring, speaking to a doctor, a nurse, to whom? I found no language clarity in the seemingly faraway words. Then, a spasm within my head made void all sound and I was being absorbed by some pleasant paralysis.

Then, the moment passed, and, again, came the clamor and din, the colors, the machines, the vortex from hell, and my body would not move to avoid once more the blackness that came to engulf me. Just before the blackness a thought came, prosaic in its numbness… Was this the end of days of which I had heard so much?

Flash Fiction by Billy Ray Chitwood

NOTE: My 12th book was just published. It was inspired by some personal experiences and some actual events in Mexico. It is set along the Sea of Cortez in a small fishing village and has kidnapping, murder, mystery, suspense, and intrigue. It has 5-Star Reviews, and I hope you enjoy the read.

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BUY SITES : 

http://www.goo.gl/d1fSnc (Amazpon US)

http://www.goo.gl/U3pZtP (Amazon UK)

http://authl.it/1r2 (Amazon Worldwide)

http;//www.about.me/brchitwood

http://billyraychitwood.weebly.com

http://twitter.com/brchitwood (@brchitwood)

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Our Crazy Wonderful World

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Our Crazy Wonderful World

Do you ever idly surf youtube.com, listen and watch the musical and singing talent that appears on the various global ‘got talent’ and ‘X-Factor’ shows? I spent a morning doing just that and felt some strong emotional stirrings bringing tears to the brim.

Musicians and singers as young as nine years old, some as wide as a small VW, female, male, all colors, shapes, and sizes, came on stage giving the judges preconceived negative notions as to their talents. When the unique and wonderful quality of their instruments and/or voices reached those doubtful ears of the judges and the audiences, eyes opened saucer-like, faces altered, and mouths were momentarily locked in a community gape of jaws.

The cameras focused on the stunned people as they slowly began to utter their words of OMG and disbelief, stood in unison to applaud and roar approval. Tears came to many eyes on the judges’ stand and in the large auditorium.

“Unbelievable!” said the judges. “This is incredible!” said the judges. “Amazing!” On and on the praise was delivered to the thrilled singers, most of whom cast their lovely humility and thanks.

My morning idling led me to search my heart, mind, and soul for appropriate digestion of what I saw…being a hopeless romantic and aging seeker of metaphysical truth. The best I can offer is this:

I saw the ‘beauty and the beast’ that abides in all of us…

A long-haired, obese and scraggly young male appears on stage with a young and pretty female. The male is shy and barely audible as he answers the questions of the judges. The petite female is more casual and open in her responses. There is a palpable awkwardness felt all the way into my great room television. Then, magically, there comes the beautifully booming operatic voice of the obese male and the accompanying female’s harmonious notes of unity, a tour de force with everyone standing and applauding.

I saw a young girl, Melissa Venema and her trumpet join the official orchestra of Holland and Andre Rieu to play magnificently ll Silenzio, a version of Taps.

I saw a handsome fourteen-year old lad from Australia sit on a stool with his guitar and bring the tears to all assembled with a voice so vibrant and clear, singing songs he himself wrote.

I saw nine-year old Amira Willighagen sing O Mio Babbino Caro with Andre Rieu’s orchestra, with outstanding beauty and clarity.

As I spent most of my morning surfing these venues on YouTube it came to me that our world is rich in beauty and talent, regardless the skins and structures our DNA dictate, regardless ages. The big question I asked myself in listening to the music of the varied many, why did it evoke tears? Were the tears a natural protocol of the aging masses? Tears of joy for the performing youth? Tears of sadness that these joyous sounds had only this momentary passage in my life already lived? Tears of remembrance for beloved comedians who made people laugh with their pieces of genius?

The only answer which satisfied me was that my soul recognized some eternal message of the ages – Love conquers the beast (the evil) that hides in all of us. The caveat that followed? It seems so much of the world in its misery cannot accept the beauty that surrounds it, and the soul cries in torment. Are the tears but another way in which God tries to reach us, to tell us that there in eternity we will find the beauty found in some idle morning of surfing?

Billy Ray Chitwood

(This post dedicated to ‘crazy and wonderful’ Robin Williams who made all of us momentarily forget pain and suffering with his frantic comic genius… Rest in Peace, Good Robin!)

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Julie Anne Chitwood = “The World After WW1″

Julie Author Picture 

Julie Anne Chitwood

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Julie’s book

BUY SITES:

Amazon USgoo.gl/2hWcg

Amazon UKgoo.gl/IvtriS

The lovely lady in the top picture is my wife, Julie Anne, still smiling and bubbly after all the years with me…the only real difference is her hair: it once was deep brown and reached well below her shoulders.

It occurred to me that my blog posts are so much about me and my books, some flash fiction here and there, and some ‘stir the pot’ commentary, and I have never told anyone about this wonderful woman that has endured me all the years… But, to the point…

Julie was bequeathed ‘a ton’ of historical letters written by her two great aunts, Celeste O’Donnell, Rosalie (Roe) O’Donnell, and her grandmother Anna Mae (O’Donnell) Malin. It was my pleasure to read these magnificent letters and it struck me that these epistles had historical value, the writing itself superb but the topics of which they write deal with the major issues of that era. It took some doing but I finally convinced Julie to do a compilation and the result is, The World After WW1. The compilation became a tome – some 713 pages plus an index. For history lovers, that period (September, 1918 through December, 1921) is covered thoroughly by the three sisters…the Irish question, the League of Nations, American troop return, the Black Sox Scandal, Spanish Influenza, Economic conditions, strikes, riots, release of POWs, the Red Cross, and so much more. There is even a ten-page letter from James Thurber written to ‘Roe’ (Rosalie) and two other co-workers in 1919…the three ladies had been with Thurber at the same Pensione in Paris (a small hotel/boarding house). Ohio State University now has that letter in their ‘James Thurber Museum’.

‘Roe’ is in the Red Cross overseas covering some dangerous areas, meeting some interesting and intriguing people. She is writing to her sisters, Celeste, in St. Louis, Missouri and to Anna Mae in Chicago, reporting on the sights, sounds, events as she travels the different cities of the war-torn world. Celeste and Anna Mae are responding with their news and events happening in the United States.

For anyone interested in history and particularly this time period, these inspired and intelligent letters will more than satisfy. Without any historical revisions, one will read from primary sources exactly what is happening at that time.

The jammed-packed book is available both in paperback and Kindle editions. Here is the ‘Forward’ to The World After WW1 I was privileged to write:

Forward

Generally, when people write about any era in history there is always a possible inclination toward revision, toward subjective observation as opposed to objective observation, toward embellishment of facts and events. It is perhaps a natural act by any writer to make his/her version of an historical period read as dramatically, as poignantly as possible. Essentially, the historical data has some commitment to accuracy, surely. In our political climate today there is so much speculation and doubt as to the accuracy of a writer’s sources relative to a particular time in history, apropos to personal and political bias. That aspect of historical writing will always be with us.

 

What is so refreshing to this reader is the publication of THE WORLD AFTER WWI. The author of this historical work has relied solely on one source, the primary source. THE WORLD AFTER WWI is a remarkable collection of letters by three sisters. One sister is in the Red Cross at the conclusion of World War I, stationed in remote corners of the world, writing to a sister in St. Louis, Missouri and a sister in Chicago, Illinois. The three sisters communicate with each other with minimal mundanity. Rather, they write about the events occurring at the time, like, ‘The Irish Question,’ the League of Nations, American troop returns, the ‘Black Sox’ scandal, silent picture shows, opera, Spanish Influenza, economic conditions, births, deaths, and, of course, personal issues they were facing at the time.

 

These charming and intelligent letters will give the reader perhaps a better glimpse of an era so unique and transforming than any ‘date/fact’ based tome. There is no disrespect intended for our major historical books. They are needed to tediously chronicle the lives of other generations and the events that shaped the future of all other generations. It is just that these letters carry a poignant human touch, weaving in and out of personal matters into the personalities and topics of the day, sharing their views both positive and negative.

 

The letters cover a three-year period from September of 1918 to December of 1921. These three years had some titillating days and months that became headlines of the day. For Genealogy and historical buffs, THE WORLD AFTER WORLD WAR I is a must read.

 

Billy Ray Chitwood

Julie Anne is not as active in the Social Networking world as I but she does maintain a twitter account (@juliechitwood1). Anyone with questions about The World after WW1 she will be happy to hear from you.

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Hold on! Not so fast! You do need to know I have my twelfth book JUST RELEASED and it is getting many 5-Star reviews. Hope you will pick up a copy of A Common Evil at Amazon Worldwide – http://authl.it/1r2. If you like the book write an Amazon review. It will be greatly appreciated. In the meantime, my very best wishes to you all.

http://twitter.com/brchitwood (@brchitwood)

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PLEASE FEEL FREE TO COMMENT.

(NOTE: for this blog post, I do not include my nine blog awards of which I am very proud.)

Meet My Main Character Blog Tour – Bailey Crane

Meet my Main Character Blog Tour – Bailey Crane

NEWLY RELEASED

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BUY SITES : http://www.goo.gl/d1fSnc US

http://www.goo.gl/U3pZtP UK 

I’ve been tagged by the always effervescent lady (never knew her when she ‘effervuscent’!), Eden Baylee, http://edenbaylee.com, to partake in a blog tour involving my main character.

THE RULES ARE SIMPLE: I must answer seven (7) questions about the main character in one of my novels. Then, I nominate five (5) authors to answer the same seven (7) questions about the main character in one of their novels. Mention the person who nominated you.

Here’s the link to Eden’s main character in Stranger at Sunsetwp.me/p1cWaE-4Q8  - Kate Hampton – quite the lady! I’ve read the book and it’s a humdinger! (Okay, mark it up to aging!) I once dated women like Kate – minus certain qualities! Suffice, Kate is beautiful, amazing, and, well, Eden has already described her. BUY SITE for Stranger at Sunset: goo.gl/YhKSmz

* * * *

Here are the answers to the seven (7) questions about Bailey Crane, my main character in A Common Evilthe sixth and final book of my ‘Bailey Crane Mystery Series’.

1. Tell us a little about this main character. Is he fictional or a historic person?

He is fictional and controls the narrative in all six of the ‘Bailey Crane Mysteries’.

2. When and where is the story – A Common Evil – set?

The story is set in nostalgic old Mexico along the Sea of Cortez – 2014.

3. What should we know about him? 

Bailey Crane is an ex-cop, among other things. He muses about his life, loves, mistakes, successes, and, of course, the critical criminal matters at hand. He is also married to an ex-cop, Wendy, and she is his ‘port in the storm’. AND, there are some similarities to the author.

4. What is the main conflict? What messes up his life?

Bailey’s main conflict in A Common Evil has to do with the Mexican cartel, his wife’s kidnapping, and a dubious death.

5. What is his personal goal?

Bailey’s personal goal is to find his kidnapped wife, restore sanity to his fun and sun life, and to efficiently run the HOA of the resort in which Wendy and he live.

6. What are the titles of your novels, and where can we read more about them?

You can find my twelve titles at my website – http://billyraychitwood.weebly.com (Just read the bio and scan down the ‘Home Page’.)

The titles of the ‘Bailey Crane Novels’: (1) An Arizona tragedy (Brutal murder Inspired by truth!) – (2) Satan’s Song (Inspired by some truth!) – (3) The Brutus Gate – (4) Murder in Pueblo del Mar (Inspired by a true homicide of a US wife and mother from Arizona) – (5) A Soul Defiled – (6) A Common Evil (NEW! Inspired by some truth).

Aside from the ‘Bailey Crane Books’, there are these books — (7) The Cracked Mirror – Reflections of an Appalachian Son (A memoir!) – (8) Butterflies and Jellybeans – A Love Story (A romance novel with suspense!) – (9) Mama’s Madness (Inspired by true events!) – (10) The Reluctant Savage (Mystery, suspense, romance!) – (11) Joe Public’s Political Perspective (I had to open my mouth!) – (12) What Happens Next? A Life’s True Tale (An embarrassing memoir!)

7. When can we expect your next book to be published?

Sometime late this year or early 2015 – a historically accurate and fictional novel about my grandfather who migrated to the United States from Bern, Switzerland – My grandfather was a saint, but there were some ugly things (like murders and suicides) happening around his life.

*****

Now I’ll nominate (tag) five other authors. All of them are terrific writers, so please visit them and give their books a read.

- John Dolan, author of A Poison Tree, book 3 of his ‘Time, Blood and Karma Series’ – http://johndolanwriter.blogspot.com and Twitter @JohnDolanAuthor

- Carmen Amato, author of Diablo Nights and other ‘Emilia Cruz’ detective novels – http://carmenamato.net and Twitter @CarmenConnects

- Dianne Gray, author of Soul’s Child and other most notable books – http://diannegray.wordpress.com and Twitter @Zigotide

- Jeff Joseph, author of Pursued, sequel to A Novel Obsession – http://jeffjosephauthor.wordpress.com and Twitter @author_jeff

- E. B. Sullivan, author of Different Hearts and Bloom Forevermore http://ebsullivan.com and Twitter @EBSullivan1

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My best wishes to all.

(NOTE: I’m the proud recipient of nine blog awards which I normally show on my blogs – as a requirement. With this post I’m foregoing their showing.)