A Speck of Dust

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A Speck of Dust

In the Aeonic repetition

Of night enveloping day,

A tiny universal speck

Of dust contemplates

The great mystery of

Endless orbits and


The insanity of war and

Fragile unstable peace…

The beauty of a sunrise,

Sunset, love’s wondrous

Bliss confused by anomalous


The speck of dust mingles

With all other specks

And awaits an ordained

Anonymity in the darkness

Of eternal oblivion – or the

Healing light of Salvation…

(Billy Ray Chitwood – June 27, 2015) 

So much of that ‘Speck of Dust’ contemplation is dispensed in my fictional memoir which is 90% true…it is titled, The Cracked Mirror – Reflections of an Appalachian Son.  The book is an account of a boy/man chasing his past and finding some of his dreams along with the despair from mistakes made along the way…it also has a bit of history that you might find interesting…



Amazon US: http://www.goo.gl/x459WR

Amazon UK: http://www.goo.gl/oyc499

Amazon Worldwide: http://authl.it/1su

Some Links:








Prologue from “Stranger Abduction” (A new novel from Billy Ray Chitwood)

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Stranger Abduction is in the oven – over half-cooked – but I wanted to write a bit about the book and present the prologue…you can let me know if you like or don’t like what I’m sharing with you. Just be gentle and remember, I’m your elder. 🙂

This is the second time I’ve written this book…let me explain. In the 1980’s, on an 80-acre non-working ‘Lazy Rabbit Ranch’ in southeast Arizona near the ‘town too tough to die’, Tombstone, I began writing on a Starwriter 60 word processor my ‘Bailey Crane Mystery Series’. There were to be seven books in the series, with five inspired by trues events. At the ranch I completed three of the ‘BC Series’ (except for final editing), neatly put the manuscripts pages in boxes, and moved to Mexico’s Sea of Cortez. Stranger Abduction was Book 2 in the series. In my lovely Sea of Cortez digs, I finished the rest of the books in the series, pulled each manuscript from its dusty box, and started the final drafts and editing. The manuscripts had been stored in a shed at my daughter’s house in Las Vegas, Nevada. My son-in-law drove all the manuscripts down to me – sweet guy, but I was irked because Stranger Abduction was missing. My son-in-law went back to Las Vegas and could not find the manuscript… Thus ends the long piece of the story, but.not without reliving the frustration and anger I felt at losing that manuscript – we finally assumed it was lost in our move.

Because each book in the ‘BC Series’ stood alone and was ready for publishing I forthwith took that action…hoping that one day I would by some stroke of luck and karmic event find the missing manuscript. I finally decided to write the book again with different plot angles but not as a ‘Bailey Crane Mystery’. Stranger Abduction was inspired by an actual mother/daughter abduction a few years before we moved to the Lazy Rabbit Ranch…in fact, that abduction took place within a few miles of our ranch. I believe, I hope that ‘mystery’ readers will enjoy the book which should be ready by late 2015 or early 2016.

So, here is the ‘prologue’ for Stranger Abduction:


Cigarette smoke slowly swirls around the dimly lit and crowded room. The smell is mixed with spilled beer, bad whiskey, body odor, stale smoke, something nostalgically reminiscent of old Mexico. The men belch, burp and fart when the need comes. The few women of the night, old, young, short, tall, slender, fat, some rather lovely beneath their cheap glitter, are gaudy in their colorful dresses. That is as it should be in Aqua Prieta, Mexico. There is nothing new in this old room, tables gouged and scarred, chairs uncomfortable without padding. The bar is the only area of the big room that has an ornate finish, and the stools are padded – ripped here and there but padded.

At a stained checker-cloth table in the corner of the Casa Orca Cantina three men sit talking. One is refilling the near empty mugs. Two of the men are from the United States, the other from Mexico’s resort cities along the Sea of Cortez. The US pair are mean-looking, swarthy, both with long oily dark hair, ruddy complexions and unshaven for many days, befitting the surroundings. The one called Eddie has a long diagonal scar on his forehead. The other man called Carl is younger and has a long bulbous nose. They are dressed in soiled sweatshirts, faded jeans, and well-worn sneakers.

The short rotund Mexican man sits in stark contrast in his dark suit, mustache, and bald head. He is obviously a man of some power and respect in the Casa Orca Cantina and anywhere else he might be. He does cringe and wrinkle his brow when the crude denizens belch, burp, and fart. The Casa Orca is simply a convenient venue for the type of men with which he must deal. Aqua Prieta is not home to this dignified man of Mexico. He is from the Sea of Cortez cities that offer better cuisine, better manners, and more elegance. Yet, he actually enjoys these short visits to the underclass environments…here, Mexicali, Nogales, San Luis, Tijuana. There is much respect paid to a man of his stature in these border towns.

The Mexican speaks. “My contacts tell me that you have been useful in delivering our products to your Denver, Colorado area. Are you pleased with the arrangement you now have with us?” He puffs his cigar and plumes the smoke upward.

“Yeah, sure, we are pleased,” the ugly American with the forehead scar speaks as the man in charge.

“I am also informed that you might be interested in performing some other activities for us. Are you aware of what I speak?”

“Yes, we are aware.” The American stares sternly into the face of the Mexican.

“It is my opinion that we can together make much money if you agree to our terms.”

“Some of your terms we’re already aware, but please lay them out for us again.” He sips from his mug.

“Of course…” the Mexican pauses, leans closer to the two across the table, takes a long puff on his cigar. “ First, you find the product which meets our requirements. Second, you make a phone call to our agent and comply with his directions – you have the name and phone information. Third, upon delivery of the product in good condition to the final destination, you will receive a cash payment of $25,000 US dollars. Upon satisfactory receipt of three such satisfactory products, your payment is to reach $35,000 US dollars. Fourth, in the event of your arrest in the United States, this business of which we speak cannot be revealed under penalty of your immediate deaths. You can be assured that those arrangements can be easily made. Fifth, if at any time it is your wish to betray us, number four is to apply… as you can see, it is a simple arrangement for us both, and, of course, you assume all risks in these matters. Do you completely understand?”

“These ‘products’ as you call them, these females, it is my understanding that you are more interested in younger women?”

“I prefer that you use the word, ‘product’ when discussing our business. Is that a problem for you?”

“That is no problem. Sorry, but I would still like an answer to the question.”

“Yes, that is our preference, but there are benefits to us for products even older… We do pay less for the older products, by thirty per cent. There can be times when one must come with the other. We understand that.”

“Who is ‘we’?” asks the man called Carl.

“Pardon me but that is of no concern to you. Other than the phone agent and possibly others with whom you will speak, I am the only one from Mexico who will have contact with you. I should ask, do you have a problem with that arrangement?”

“No, we have no problem,” says the man called Eddie.

“Good! You say you have the number to call regarding the products, yes?”

“Yes… Is it any of my concern as to why you refer to the females as products?”

“No, it is of no concern to you… Just, don’t do it! Is that clearly understood at this time and in the future?”

With a short shake of the head, he answers, “Yes, that is clearly understood, but, listen, we do your work and we don’t appreciate being talked down to…”

“Do you wish out of the arrangement?”

“No, just some common courtesies, please.”

“You present yourself to me unshaven, poorly dressed, and you are common criminals… You are paid well for what you do, and you tell me to act a certain way with you? I ask you again, do you wish out of the arrangement? Think before you give me another frustrated shake of your head and say what you think I wish to hear. This is how I conduct business, and there are others who wait in line to do what you are doing. So, be sure of your answer. You are not dealing here with a Boy Scout Director. So, I await your answer?”

Feeling deflated, Eddie and Carl exchange glances. Eddie answers, this time with more humility of tone, “No, sir, we do not want out of the arrangement. I’m sorry.”

“Good!” The Mexican puffs rapidly on his cigar. “Now, I can tell you the date of the next pick-up for your van…”

When finished with the details of the pick-up, the Mexican takes from his pocket a small pouch and hands it to the man called Eddie. “You will be given directions when the time comes on how and when to use this. Do not lose it and keep it in a safe place.”



Sunday breaks with another sunny day in southeast Arizona, the long, wide Sulphur Springs Valley desert stretching out to the mountains east, west, north, and south to the Sierra Madres in old Mexico. It is the way of this Sunizona, Arizona community some forty-odd miles below Willcox, the heat and warm breezes bringing life to a lazy and slow pace for most inhabitants. The land is arid and without showy vegetation. There are only cactus, sand, gravel, sagebrush, and the tumbling tumble weeds crossing the roads for cars and trucks to dodge or splinter. To say the area is rural might not be enough, but it is beautiful and home to many who would not want it any other way.

The valley farmers grow barley, corn, wheat, vegetables, turning the soil often to get maximum value from the land. Great pistachio orchards, bee colonies, Christmas tree farms are part of the valley landscape, and all around the large rotating watering systems provide the irrigation. The big farmers belong to a coop to smooth the operative marketing of the goods. Great herds of sheep and cattle co-exist here in the Sulphur Springs Valley and the sheered wool and meat are significant sources of income for many in the area.

To the near west of this vast valley rise the rocky Dragoon Mountains and the well-known monument known as Cochise Stronghold. Tombstone, the ‘town too tough to die’, sets just over the Dragoons some fifty miles from Sunizona…conjuring up tales of Wyatt Earp, his brothers, bar room brawls, gun duels, and ‘the shootout at the OK Corral’.

To the nearer east lies the Chiricahua Mountains and, farther north, the Dos Cabezas Mountains where Cochise and Geronimo roamed well over a century ago. Much of our cowboy/Indian history was written in this valley and among these rock and cavernous mountains. The people who live here love the tranquil way of life, at least, most of them. Some want more than this somnolent existence and move away to the big cities and towns that offer more in the way of diversity.

Donna Pickering lives now in the East, has a lovely family and remembers well her home of youth here in Sunizona, her many brothers and sisters, her wonderful father and mother, and the crazy and wonderful memories of her young growing years on this quiet sun-filled prairie…the hikes around the ‘Stronghold’, Dos Cabezas, and the Chiricahua National Park.

There is one memory from Sunday, May 23, 1993, that still lingers, haunts Donna and her family – a sleepy Sunday Sabbath afternoon with some dust devils playing touch and go on the desert floor, breezes touching bodies with warm caresses, lemonade under the trees.

This is the backdrop for the story of that tragic and awful memory… Only this sun-scorched and storied land knows the actual events. While this tale gives a fictional account, there is some plausibility as to what could have happened. Some references here have viability, and, just perhaps, the story can offer an alternate truth.

Billy Ray Chitwood  – June 20, 2015

While waiting for Stranger Abduction why not read Book 1 of the ‘Bailey Crane Series’, An Arizona Tragedy Book 1, inspired by the actual brutal murder of a good friend of mine. The lovely actress and mother was missing for weeks and finally found in the desert northeast of Phoenix, ravaged by denizens and the relentless summer sun.



Amaxon US: goo.gl/fMt82R

Amazon UK: goo.gl/HTQGo

Amazon Worldwide: http://authl.it/1sv

Some Links:


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

http://billyraychitwood.weebly.com (My books & short bio on ‘home’ page)






Arthur and the Bullies


Arthur and the Bullies

It is true that some have sensitivities that make them both a target for people who would bully them and for those who would feel kindness and an urge to protect them in an unfair situation. This story exemplifies this thought.


Arthur Chadwick carried a lot of emotional baggage at the age of ten. He was born in poverty, knew well the anger and battles of dysfunctional parents, the seeming endless cycle of mobility, moving from one location to another, divorce, and state run institutions.

The battle scenes when his parents were together became the most hypnotically paralyzing and terrifying moments he would put in that baggage of emotions…his father using his fists against his mother, the blood splattering, the bruises she carried, and her inability to get out of bed for work because of the pain inflicted.

Arthur could not adequately describe those terrible moments when his body inwardly quivered and he came to the edge of dissociative and suffocative anxiety. He would not know the long-term effects of these stressful periods. Those awful fights over, he could eventually resume normally his play and school time.

At school, Arthur had his friends. He also had those young hooligans who could read his sensitive nature…it was there in his eyes, in a secretion of his body, making him a live toy of whom a fool could be made…to dare, intimidate, mock, push, shove, and wrestle to the ground.

In his young mind Arthur worried constantly about his cowardly behavior. He didn’t wish to be a coward. He wanted to stand up for himself, to fight his battles, but there was a fear attached to fighting…it seemed his mind reverted back to the domestic battles between his Mom and Dad at home – the paralysis of spirit and survival.

All through the last year in elementary school, an older kid named Rick befriended him, talked to him kindly and firmly that he must defend himself against those who would take advantage of him. Arthur listened and wanted to be that person of whom Rick described. Still, the bullies prevailed, waiting for him after school to taunt and torment him. One bully named Will was the worst and also the leader of the others.

The last day of school came and Arthur was walking along a gravel road with his friend Rick when Will and his friends came alongside and began their shoving and taunting.

“Come on, Arthur, don’t let them do this to you.” Rick was a big kid and the bullies wanted nothing to do with him.

Arthur just lowered his head and walked along.

When the boys reached a small creek by the side of the road, Will was still shoving and taunting Arthur. Rick was still encouraging Arthur to do something.

The thoughts were running crazily through Arthur’s head. Rick’s words, the ugly words of Will, Arthur’s own self-loathing thoughts, and, finally, his anger erupted. Arthur rushed at Will, threw a few punches, grabbed him, and shoved him in the creek.

Will was stunned by the action, and Arthur spoke: “Come on out of there and I’ll give you some more…” Then, Arthur spoke to the other bullies: “If any of you want to join Will in the creek, come on and I’ll give you all you might want.”

The bullies stopped where they were, shaking their heads sideways. When Will got out of the creek, they all headed in the other direction.

Rick put his arm around Arthur’s shoulder. “That’s showing them, Art. They won’t be bothering you again…you got in some nice punches there, but the creek scene was the best of all. Did you see the defeated look on Will’s face?”

Those sensitivities are still with Arthur and he still has some fears, but a lesson was learned on that last day of school… When you know you’re not alone you can accomplish deeds you never thought possible.


It’s rather superfluous but we have bigger and barbaric bullies in our world today, cutting off heads and setting people afire. While my little tale was not necessarily meant to be allegorical, it is my thinking that peace-loving folks need to come together and throw those barbaric monsters in the creek of historical oblivion. That is to say, they need to be eradicated. We already have quite a few of those black-hooded ogres here in our country…

What are we waiting for???

Billy Ray Chitwood – June 12, 2015

Some Links:



https://thefinalcurtain1.wordpress.com (My blog)

http://www.goo.gl/fuxUA (IAN – Independent Author Network)

http://twitter.com/brchitwood – (@brchitwood) – Please follow me.



Linkedin.com profile – http://www.goo.gl/317AtX




I am flattered and honored to have received nine blog nomination. 

most-influential-blogger-e1364230844577 (1)reality blog award  one-lovely-blog booker-award very-inspiring-blogger-award11-1 beautiful-blogger-award liebsteraward inner-peace-award the-wordpress-family-award



A New Novel by Christoph Fischer – “The Gamblers”

A New Novel by Christiph Fischer


The Gamblers

I just finished The Gamblers by Christoph Fischer and it is my pleasure to feature him and his book on my humble blog.

Christoph has a penchant for understanding the actions, desires, foibles, and motivations of people. That can be discerned by some of his previous books like The Healer and In Search of a Revolution and The Luck of the Weissensteiners and other titles listed below. This new launch of The Gamblers carries forth his strong desire to know the inner cravings of his fellow human beings.

Imagine yourself a handsome geeky accountant and introvert, your DNA dictating a mind absorbed with numbers, calculations, statistics, and probabilities. Now, imagine a sudden 64,000,000 lottery windfall of British currency coming into your life. Your psyche will not allow you the wild excitement of a grand spending spree, your calm and careful considerations lead you to give a small portion of the money to Cancer Research and to a homeless children project. The rest of the money goes into an interest-bearing bank account that provides income of some 60,000 per month… You would be imagining yourself as Englishman Ben Andrews.

Ben takes a trip to his favorite city, New York, his ‘business class’ ticket for some reason upgraded to ‘first class’. Enter a stewardess named Wendy, blonde, blue-eyed, curvaceous, and beautiful. Wendy gives Ben some sites to visit in New York, and Ben becomes immediately smitten.

While in New York, Ben meets a charismatic man named Mirco. A gambler and big spender, Mirco quickly takes to the English chap after some discussions about how each approach gambling – Mirco’s intuitive approach and Ben’s constant search for a formulaic pattern in poker betting. The two men solidly bond, and Mirco picks up all the bills in their subsequent meetings – in NY, London, Nairobi, and other exotic spots for gambling and romance.

So, you have the major players in this interesting tale, a tale that will appeal to those who are romantic at heart, risk-takers, and the general reader. The novel has a most pleasant reading style and the chapters cover sequentially all of the action. The ending might surprise – not in an unpleasant way – and will encourage you to read more books by Christoph Fischer.

Billy Ray Chitwood – June 6, 2015

 BUY SITES for The Gamblers:

Amazon US: http://www. goo.gl/g50IUv

Amazon UK: http://www. goo.gl/OZAbfb

Amazon Worldwide: http://www.authl.it/38f



Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Gamblers/1483080171982117


Short Biography of CHRISTOPH FISCHER:

Christoph Fischer was born in Germany, near the Austrian border, as the son of a Sudeten-German father and a Bavarian mother. Not a full local in the eyes and ears of his peers he developed an ambiguous sense of belonging and home in Bavaria. He moved to Hamburg in pursuit of his studies and to lead a life of literary indulgence. After a few years he moved on to the UK where he now lives in a small town in West Wales.  He and his partner have three Labradoodles to complete their family.

Christoph worked for the British Film Institute, in Libraries, Museums and for an airline. ‘The Luck of The Weissensteiners’ was published in November 2012; ‘Sebastian’ in May 2013 and The Black Eagle Inn in October 2013. “Time To Let Go” , his first contemporary work was published in May 2014, and “Conditions” in October 2014. His medical thriller “The Healer” was released in January 2015 and his latest historical novel “In Search of a Revolution” in March 2015.

He has written several other novels which are in the later stages of editing and finalization.

Below are links to Christoph’s social network sites, his blog, and praise for some of his other books:

Website: http://www.christophfischerbooks.com/

Blog: http://writerchristophfischer.wordpress.com/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6590171.Christoph_Fischer

Amazon: http://ow.ly/BtveY

Twitter: https://twitter.com/CFFBooks

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/christophffisch/

Google +: https://plus.google.com/u/0/106213860775307052243

LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/profile/view?id=241333846

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/WriterChristophFischer?ref=hl

Praise for Fischer’s thriller “THE HEALER” on Amazon:

“Very Unforgettable Read” – “One of the best-in-class books I’ve ever read in this sub-genre”

– “Touching thriller that raises many profound questions.”

– “Multi-layered, multifaceted, expertly credible psychological thriller”

Praise for “IN SEARCH OF A REVOLUTION” on Amazon:

“Excellent read. Cracking pace.” – “Christoph Fischer is a skilled and accomplished story teller”

“Fischer does an excellent job in distilling the macro into the micro. This talent could be compared to Kazuo Ishiguro’s gift of ‘writing in the miniature’ “