Millions Do It – Why Should I?


Millions Do It – Why Should I?

Look at the blank pages!

I’ve looked at blank pages for many years, even managed to fill enough of them to write thirteen books, books of mystery and suspense, some inspired by true-life events, even filled some of those blank pages with romance and books about myself. You can find those thirteen books on While I’m at it, I lay claim to roughly 250 blog posts, many tracking emotional events and moments, serving up comments on some of the world’s crazies. There are flash fiction goodies and short stories. My blogs and archive appear on Goodreads and on I’ve been very gratified in receiving eleven blog nominations. Hopefully, some of you will find reading pleasure in these blog posts.

There are a few book sales, some great amazon and Goodreads reviews, and, humble as I am, I believe the books should be reaching more readers. One of the big problems is my ineptness in the digital world, how to extend the reach of my blogs and books to a wider audience. I rely on Twitter tweets, promos added to my posts, Amazon, and Kindle KDP. I’ve never been adept in electronics, mechanics, and have a problem keeping up with the social media flow. Another problem is I’m ‘cheap’, don’t want to spend thousands on advertising and/or a publicist. AND, with millions of writers across the globe, I’m a needle in the proverbial hay stack.

(Yeah, I know, you’ve heard all of this in previous blogs and private conversations…there are great numbers of us!)

Now, don’t get me wrong. I love to write and consider much of the social media a distraction to filling more blank pages. If truth be known, the writing is enough for me. But, there’s a small selfish part of me that would like to see some monetary rewards for my efforts. Now, notwithstanding my humility, I know my books, blogs, stories, have an entertainment value and a clarity of style. Sure, the process is long with the first draft, the editing, rewrites, the proofing, and the re-reads. Even with all involved in the writing process, I can almost guarantee, after one of my books is published, there will be a minor typo or errata. From Indie writers to traditionally published authors, one generally can find errors in some of their published pages.

Well, venting-time is over… I just wanted to share with so many of my writing friends that making money on those blank pages you fill up is wonderful – and you likely go the extra mile, spend much of your time and energy in the promotional stage…not to say you have not written a beautiful book that deserves the big payoff. Indie or traditionally published, I’m happy for you.

If this sounds self-serving, well, it is! I checked the KDP report and saw my modest sales. I would like more sales, but I’ll keep writing, regardless. It keeps me active and alive…and, when I write on those blank pages the particular phrases that bloat me with delight, well, those are the game winners for me.

Now, will all who read this start a viral event and buy my books!!!

Hope springs eternal!

Billy Ray Chitwood – November, 2015

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Author @BRChitwood releases STRANGER ABDUCTION #mystery


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What Madness is This?


What Madness is This?

What Madness is this?

This concoction of the mind

That delivers death and destruction?

This barbaric substance most evil –

Borne on the winds of perceived injustice?

Martyrs of vengeance promised paradise and virgins

For their rampant slaughter of wary innocents –

Cherished lives cut short, deprived their destinies?

Cannot these unfeeling devils of death know

That their quest for world dominance can never be?

There is too much nobility and wisdom among the

People of our world to surrender to such atrocities.

Each of us has lost something valuable in our lives –

No one lives without pain and suffering…

Cannot these vicious dogs of carnage and rage know

That GOOD will never be conquered by EVIL?

(BY: Billy Ray Chitwood – November, 2015­)


Writing of evil above, I carry the theme forward with Book 6 of the ‘Bailey Crane Mystery Series. A COMMON EVIL – Book 6 is the final book in the series and, as with each book in the series, stands alone. A COMMON EVIL is fictional but was inspired by a true event at the resort where I lived for several years – a Cartel shoot-out at the same lovely resort on the Sea of Cortez. Of course, the book deals with Mexican Cartel business, with murder and a lot of suspense. If you are into the genres of mystery and evil, you will enjoy the taut pace, the characters, and Bailey’s musings. The climax to the book is shocking and unusual. I hope you will enjoy the read.

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Breaking Up


Breaking Up

Jan Cowper was a bit late in her arrival at the restaurant for a dinner date with her live-in boyfriend.

“Sorry I’m late, Tony…had some things to do after work.” She sat opposite him at the table for two and placed her purse on the floor beside her.

Tony eyed her… She was a knockout! Beautiful blue eyes and face framed by golden tresses… He hated what he was thinking.

“No, you’re not!” Tony spoke, three martinis up on his dinner date and his mind working at its peak.

“No, I’m not, ‘what’?” She responded, as the waiter took her martini order.

“You’re not sorry about being late…just words.”

“Just ‘words’, huh? Got it all figured out, do you, Tony?”

“You know what they say!”

“They, being?”

“The smart people of the world…”

“And, how would you know them, Tony?”

“You do that a lot!”

“I do what a lot.”

“You put me down a lot, Jan… It’s okay. I’m used to it, but it does get old.”

“I put you down a lot?”

“You do that a lot, too… Why are you always repeating everything I say? Do I have marbles in my mouth?”

“Why do I repeat what you say?” Jan chuckled. “Yeah, guess I do…just a dumb habit. It appears I’m irritating you a lot, Tony. You have any more observations?”

“As a matter of fact, I do… Your eyes wander all over the restaurant we might be in. You stare into the cars we pass on the road.  You watch people walking along the streets. It’s like you’re always thinking and planning something when we’re together. It’s not just annoying…it’s stupid! I’m not a jealous man, and you’re not going to make me into one. So, are you just bored with our relationship or are you a short-term commitment person?”

“Where’s all this coming from, Tony? I’m the same dame you met and gave a moronic pitch at Madison Square Garden a year ago. Maybe it was the Knicks that brought us together, though I admit you got me hot and bothered with your phony come-on and your ‘bulge’…you had that black curly hair and Dean Martin look that turned me on. Everything was great until you got too controlling and possessive…”

There was a short pause as the waiter delivered Jan’s martini…and Tony ordered another.

“Me, ‘controlling and possessive’, with you. You’re nuts! I would never attempt to control a woman, or, anybody for that matter. I thought we had something going when we decided to share living space. You gave me every indication that was so – your little pecks on the upper cheeks and your hands roaming on the lower cheeks… Now, for the past six weeks or so, you’ve changed big time. What is it, Jan? You got a new lover? Got all you want from me? What? Want to trade me in? Is that it?”

“Hey, Tony, lower the decibels! The other diners are looking at us. You trying to get us kicked out of this nice joint?”

“There’s the Jan I know these days! Skirting the questions, bringing it all back on me… Tell you what! It’s all so obvious to me what you’re doing, I’m going to make it easy for you. I mean, Jeez, I’ve seen this coming for weeks – an excuse here and there, working late, or, drinks with the girl-buddies, too tired for any fooling around, all the signs were there. Old ‘Jerk-water’ Tony, too easy on the patience and not wanting to believe what I instinctively knew…”

Tony rose from the table, tossed a fifty-dollar bill on the table. “We never got to dinner so that should handle the tab. If not, you get the rest. Enjoy the martini I just ordered…one of the guys at the bar will likely have the lack of good sense and approach you. I’ll have your clothes neatly packed in boxes for you to pick up outside the apartment door… This train is leaving the station.”

With that, Tony was gone, and Jan showed a half-smile to the other staring patrons and waiters. The smile was not a ‘poor-me’ smile, but more of a ‘victory’ smile. She finished her martini, left the fifty bucks on the table and exited the restaurant.

Jan walked several blocks down Fifth Avenue and entered another upscale restaurant. She was ushered to a nearly hidden table in the rear of the large room, in an area most lovely decorated with exotic plants and special pictures of notable people.

“How did it go?” the handsome and smartly dressed man stood and pulled out her chair.

She smiled and spoke, “Just as anticipated. The doofus is packing my clothes in boxes and putting them outside the apartment door. He will be a bit shocked when he notices my clothes already gone… Hope your end is all set. He will definitely be checking his floor safe in the master bedroom closet sooner or later.”

“It’s all set…don’t worry. Tony will likely booze a bit before going home and won’t have time to think about anything. You’re sure he knows you are not aware of the safe?”

“There is no way he can know…”

The couple smiled sweetly at each other and sipped their martinis.


Tony stopped and had a few more drinks before going back to his plush apartment. He was in a strange mood, not eager to eyeball the pretty ladies in the bistros, just mellow and somehow content with the decision he made relative to Jan. No question he was easy going, but he knew when he was being played. He bought her some beautiful gifts but that was his way…he did not second-guess himself, and, for a while, all went very well. Now, it was over, and he was glad it was over. He might feel some remorse in the next few days, but, tonight, he was in a good mood and happy to be free again.

When he finally made it home, he was not so tight with booze that he failed to notice Jan’s clothes all gone. Perhaps she had gotten the clothes during the day or this evening. In any event he was happy that all vestiges of Jan were out of the apartment. He turned on his stereo for some soft jazz, had a nightcap, and went to bed…still fully sober and content.

It was three days later when he discovered the robbery of his safe. Jolted by the discovery, losing a major portion of his financial fortune caused a great wave of distress to settle within him… Oh, he still had funds elsewhere and he would not be forced into great hardship like so many before him. Still, the effort and time to accumulate such wealth could not be simply accepted without some anger and anxiety.

The theft brought immediate rise to thoughts about Jan and her possible involvement. He spent days trying to locate her but she no longer worked with the same company. He visited restaurants and night spots they had frequented but no one had seen her or heard anything about her.

Time moved on – three weeks passed, a month, two months…

It was in the third month that he saw her in one of New York’s finest gourmet restaurants.

She was sitting in a lush leather and gold cloth booth across the opulent room. With her were two men and another woman. They were engaged in an animated argument about something, arms and hands waving in frantic gestures. Jan’s companion appeared really irate, his voice reaching a level that brought the maître d’ to the booth and diners to stare.

Whatever the disturbance, Jan and her companion rose from the booth and left the restaurant in angry haste.

Their dinner at an end, Tony and his business associate separated, the associate moving to the piano bar, and Tony leaving the restaurant. Tony was eager to follow Jan and her angry friend if it were possible to do so…he still felt Jan was somehow the instrument used to rob him of his floor safe finances.

Outside the restaurant Tony was only able to see Jan running after her companion’s car…it was obvious that he decided to leave her behind. She quickly hailed a cab and went into pursuit mode. Tony’s guess was that Jan would not catch him. Tony stood for a moment watching the cab become a tiny twinkle in the night…he felt no urge to hail his own cab and follow her. Instead, he was close enough to walk to his own apartment where he found it difficult to fall asleep – his mind was busy reliving the entire evening. For his part, the night had been successful with a business contract which would during its course give back all the finances lost in his safe robbery.

For a few moments more he remembered some of his good times with Jan, and, in some ways, he felt sorry for her. In her own way she was trying to cope with the challenges of living in one of the most eclectic and electric cities in the world – she loved Manhattan, and as the song so beautifully proclaimed, she was ‘caught between the moon and New York City’. He was no longer angry at Jan. Aside from feeling sorry for her, he wanted her to succeed and be truly happy – without the constant manic urges from life.

Two nights later the late night TV news carried a story about the body of a female found in the East River, later identified as Janice (Jan) Cowper.

Tony Peterson felt a range of emotions with the TV announcement and allowed the tears to flow unabashedly… Sleep was again difficult to attain.

At his office the next day two NYPD detectives visited and asked many questions, indicating to Tony that he was under heavy scrutiny in Jan’s homicide, the cause of death already determined by autopsy and forensic evidence.

Tony answered honestly all of the detectives’ questions and was crushed that they were considering him as a suspect in Jan’s death. They told him not to leave town and departed his office.

For several days, Tony was unable to maintain his ongoing business dealings and stayed home to meditate on possible scenarios for Jan’s killing. He figured it had to have something to do with the night he saw the outburst at the swanky restaurant, saw Jan and her companion leave abruptly. He remembered Jan chasing after the companion, hailing a cab and giving chase. Had she caught up to him? Had the companion killed her? Had the two of them conspired to rob him? Had perhaps Jan’s new lover and killer somehow connected him to her murder?

It was late when Tony retired for the night, restless, unable to sleep, his mind relentless with its pounding observations and questions.

Just when sleep did come, through the fog Tony heard a persistent ringing noise, then loud voices…finally fully awake and aware of his doorbell and the yelling.

Tony put on his robe and answered the doorbell and shouts.

“Tony Peterson?” one of the three policemen asked.

“Yes, I’m Tony Peterson,” came the soft answer from a man who knew that fate was about to take him down some precipitous and unknown pathways.

“You’re under arrest for the murder of Jan Cowper,” said the tall handsome officer.

Handcuffed, read his Miranda Rights, Tony was taken away.

Tony’s heart sank as he was led to the patrol car. Tony suddenly noticed that the arresting officer was the man he had seen with Jan Cowper at the swanky restaurant.

Short Story by Billy Ray Chitwood – November 14, 2015


If you liked the above story, please try one of my full-length novels…actually, please try one of my full-length novels even if you don’t like the above story.  I’m thinking you might like THE RELUCTANT SAVAGE. This novel is a fast-paced ‘noire-type’ read that has a lot of action, a love triangle, murder, romance, and suspense. Please give it a read and leave an amazon review – reviews can be the life blood for authors.


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The Red Demon


The Red Demon

Okay, you can call me crazy! Hey, maybe I am…does a crazy person know he’s crazy? All I can say is ‘I know what I see in the pit of dark night’. Criminy, everything else in my routine life seems normal enough. I rise in the morning, shave, take a shower, dress, drink some orange juice, eat a slice of toast, and take the crappy subway to Manhattan and work all day…

‘What’s up with this guy?’ That’s what you are asking, right? ‘Where’s he leading us?’

Okay, just be patient, stretch your mind a wee bit, and I’m about to tell you. I know how it’s all going to sound, weird, off the wall loony, but I have to tell somebody. It’s driving me…well, crazy!

Three weeks ago, it starts!

I get off work at this mid-town bookstore and have a couple of beers before catching the subway back to my apartment. The bar is a cheap basement joint but the beer doesn’t cost an arm and a leg. Anyway, it’s already dark outside…comes early this time of year, you know. As I walk up the short steps of the bar to the sidewalk, people are passing, jabbering and laughing…lots of people, you know. Well, that’s what makes this story so…well, loony!

I’m walking to the subway entrance when I see a guy in a car thrashing about, his blood splashing all around…and, all these people passing on the sidewalk are oblivious to this ugly scene, just jabbering and laughing.

I run to the car, look through the passenger-side window. What I see blows my mind. I’m telling you true! Hard to believe, I know, but it’s true!

There’s this red – yeah, RED – demon in the front seat whaling away on the driver… The demon is all red, I’m telling you, with long pointed ears, a satanic face with wild-glaring eyes. His long tail is pointed like an arrow at the end, and, get this, he’s got wings. He’s small…no more than four feet in height. (Now, I’m saying ‘he’ and ‘his’, just assuming, you know, his gender.)

I’m yelling at the people passing, and they look at me like I’m just another nutty New Yorker. Amid all the action and screaming in the car itself, and these people don’t hear or see anything… Only I see this feral display of snarl and assault.

I open the passenger door and whack the red demon hard with my fist… Now, here’s something else you’re not going to believe. The red smallish ogre just…disappears, poof, into the black of night.

‘What about the driver of the car?’ You ask.

The guy’s got scratches and gashes, blood covering his face. He murmurs to me, “Thank God for you!”

“What the hell was that?” I asked.

He weakly answered, “I saw nothing…just felt the attack…”

“You did not see the little red demon that was attacking you?” I asked, astonished.

“No, I saw nothing, only felt the awful pain.”

“My God! Am I the only one to see it? The people on the sidewalks did nothing, with all my yelling. Did they not see it?”

I took him to the hospital where he was quickly patched up and released. A really good guy, he offered me some money which I did not take. We never saw each other again…guess that’s part of life in the big city.

You want more crazy?

During the past three weeks I saw this red demon attacking others in the Manhattan darkness. Those attacked could remember only the attacks. They saw no red demons. Apparently I was the only person to witness these attacks, the only person to see the red demon, the only person to make him disappear.

Hey, it’s okay if you think I’m crazy… Hell, I think I am as well. I’ve been to doctors, even some psych people, and they can find nothing wrong with me… I’m not a raving beerholic – it’s infrequent I have a beer, but, when I do, it’s Dos Equis…forgive the attempt at lightness. A comedian, I’m not.

So, these days, I go to work and straight home after pushing books all day.

It’s Friday night, and, for lots of people it’s hell-raising night – you know, getting plowed and, just maybe, you meet a sweet companion that races your motor…you know, someone who opens a door to some wakeful day-dreaming, to some possible tomorrows for life-sharing.

Me, I’m home alone, really into this old movie, An Affair to Remember. The syrupy ending is winding down, and I’ve got these tears coming down my cheeks, feeling like a ten on the scale of idiots, and my doorbell rings, loud and often. I’m thinking, ‘who the hell is ringing my doorbell this time of night’?

I mute the movie, probably because I want to cry some more later, go and answer the door.

Okay, time for crazy again!

It’s that damned red demon! He had this weird jerk going with his head and what I believe might have been a smile. In a low, menacing, guttural voice, he says, “Hi, sweet yummy, it’s time we get to know each other…how’s about a little kiss?” (Hey, maybe I was wrong about the ‘gender’ thing! Or, not!)

My heart did a couple of flips and I went into a catatonic seizure! There are only three rooms in my apartment, and I was like a whirling dervish (oops, apologies to Muslims!), or, like a wild human pinball bouncing from room to room, or, like one of those old silent screen ‘krazy kops’, zigzagging all over the place.

The manic behavior stopped when I fell and hit my head on the porcelain tub in the bathroom. I was out like the proverbial light.

When I awoke, the red demon was gone.

Two possibilities: 1) Too much ‘green beer’ at the basement tavern, or, 2) The porcelain tub in the bathroom knocked something in my brain back into its rightful position.

Folks, I had to tell you about this event in my life because it was the most otherworldly and scariest production my sub-conscious brain has ever presented…

Where the hell do they come from?

Flash Fiction by Billy Ray Chitwood, November 6, 2015


My new book, Stranger Abduction, came out last month – October, 2015 – and it has many ‘red demons’ of a sort. The book was inspired by a true Arizona abduction some years ago… A mother and her fourteen-year old daughter walked three miles to a country store for cigarettes and ice cream. They made it to the store but never made it home.

The story has interesting characters, clarity of writing style, and entertainment value. Hope you read Stranger Abduction and give it an Amazon and/or Goodreads review.


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