The Year My 20+ Books Sell 100,000 Copies

https://www.brchitwood.com

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This will require only a few seconds of your time, but just imagine the joy you are providing for yourself and, of course, for me!

Some folks would call this ‘begging’ – me, I call it a polite plea to give a great writer his due! Well, at least, it is sincere and not a bit awkward! AND, I am a great writer! I’ve written almost 400 blog posts, short stories, flash fiction, and many poems and songs.

The genres are: Mystery-Romance-Memoirs-Fiction taken from true crimes-Non-Fiction- Sci-Fi… Will you find some typos and errors? Even after hours and hours of rewrite? Sure, it is not a perfect world! But, what you read, I can almost promise you will enjoy!  

Just go to the Website above and find the books and information all about me (that part is FREE! – I’ve had an interesting life: Acting, stage, screen, film, teaching, et al.) A hipster, I’m not!

  1. BR Chitwood – March 30, 2022

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Author: BR Chitwood

https://www.brchitwood.com

You Are Your Moods

You Are Your Moods

BR Chitwood

You are your moods…just sharing some of mine…

My mother was a gentle, generous, and kind woman from a large loving family of four boys and four girls, the matriarch of the brood fervently involved in her Protestant Faith. The father was a quiet, gentle, corpulent man, a railroad foreman for the Louisville and Nashville Railroad Company, a most pleasant person who seldom interfered with the demands of his pious wife who each day offered a loud, long, tearful, prayer to her Father in Heaven, with all present kneeling for her long wailing wishes for blessings and forgiveness of sins committed by her and her brood. Despite the parental toughness of her ways and the seriousness of her moods, she was a kind and gentle person.

Two of the four boys would serve their country in World War Two, one ferrying our brave warriors to the shore at Omaha Beach. The youngest of the brothers was murdered as he was closing down his ‘Filling Station’ late at night in Knoxville, Tennessee. Stanley was his name and a most wonderful Uncle. Uncle Stanley saw me through some difficult times in my early life. I loved this good man and think of him often through all these years.

Uncle Stanley and my mother were so much alike, both holy of heart, soul, and honorable in their daily living…

My Mom was a boarding house cook and a Bell Telephone Operator/Supervisor. Because of economic conditions at the time my mother had to rely on the state of Tennessee and my grandparents for boarding and financial help – it was a necessary procedure for many families at the time.

My most memorable years came when my mother brought my sister and me to live in a lovely home across from a beautiful college where I played tennis with some of the students and attended elementary school. Times got better for our small family. My sister blossomed early and wanted all that went with a pretty face and desirable body…problems, yes, but the family worked through it.

Much of my life was molded from those early days, still given to thoughts of a past with too little good and a lot of ugliness. I served my country, got through college, taught writing to high school seniors, did some acting, commercials and film, married a few times, sired three beautiful kids who constantly amaze me with their goodness, settled at last with a lovely lady who is all a man could possibly want.

Oh, and I have written twenty books, many based on true crimes, mystery and romance, a couple of memoirs, some 375 blog posts, many ‘flash fiction’ pieces, short stories, and poetry.

Okay, had this quiet afternoon of reflection, felt like writing some of it down, and I feel better…and, I just felt like sharing it with people who might be reading my posts.

All of my books are on: https://brchitwood.com

Hope you can read some of my books…and perhaps leave an Amazon review if so inclined…

Too Much to Absorb

BR Chitwood

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A better person than I can parse and understandthe confounding nature of our world, how we arrive at a multitude of decisions as a disjointed group of politicians handle affairs of our nation from a position of power, personal goals, anger, and disassociation from a particular item of high importance to the people for whom they represent.

 It is my belief that our government handlers are anything but centered to their life-long political biases and hatred for their counter-parts, many so paralyzed by their animosity they would deny their nation responsible representation.

An Appalachian transplant, who am I to have such thoughts?

I saw it at recess on the grounds of my elementary and high schools, in the classrooms, in the halls stalked by bullies… Unlike today, we young people were taught ‘Reading, Writing, and Arithmetic’ so we were spared today’s wide-spread indoctrination of blame, of how and who to hate for society’s slide into racial issues, kept alive and more viable to our youth by an almighty ‘National Association of Teachers Union’.

Okay, sure, we must allow for environmental differences, low IQs, high IQs, parental inability to carefully cultivate and fine-tune tolerance and care for a multitude of beliefs. We are built in our early years and that inculcation en masse make for the world we build.

So, we migrate, spread our selective fine-tuning to other cities, other countries, and the centuries roll on with our human sacrifices, wars, famine, and ultimate destruction and re-building…until!

What?

Our ‘Religions’ speak in different tongues, views that see ‘life and death, heaven, hell’ in totally sharp contrast…

Life goes on.

Death goes on.

Zealots go on.

Will freedom and liberty go on?

Can love conquer all?

Can a ‘Cosmic Wave’ pass over the world, instilling in each of us a predominant theme for living?

Does this ‘Cosmic Wave’ erase all of the frailties of the world?

Does Jesus return to make all things right?

Does another planet in another Solar System come to create a true Eloi?

Are we a ‘Lab Experiment’ that has gone wildly awry?

There is so much good in the world – can it not be an unbreakable bond for humanity?

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BR Chitwood

https://brchitwood.com

http://twitter.com (@brchitwood)

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Really, Why Wars?

BR Chitwood

Really, Why Wars?

BR Chitwood

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Why would someone far away from the bomb bursts, flying bullets, and so much human suffering dwell on a Putin-pressed war in Ukraine…for that matter, why so many in the world dwell on this manic and corrupt event?

While pedestrian and immediately naïve, I need to put my words down because it is Sunday… Why, Sunday? A holy day for most of us, a day to dwell on our sins/transgressions, a day to pray for hope, for personal salvation, and for entire World Peace.

Of course, we have enough fret and worry of the ‘Infidel Killers’ and other groups who love to hate and kill.

With’ Putin’s War’, the ‘fret’ becomes more fierce, more difficult to calculate actions and reactions. Much of the world views Putin as a ‘Mad Man’, capable of actions leaders of nobility would never consider. The worst descriptive words for this beast of humanity have been used up by people of the world who follow his atrocities…it is difficult to imagine him long for this world. His sly eyes and demeanor, all that he is, there for the world to see. A reasonable person would assume this cold and distant Satanic collaborator could not be long for this global pool of humanity.

I pretend no great expertise on this Russian dictator and only rely on the years of ‘News Reports’ for this deeds and death tolls, like those being registered in Ukraine today and throughout his tenure in this world. I am just a man, imperfect in many ways with sins I must ultimately account for, sins far below the standards of this leader of a great nation.

So, I’m but an American Patriot who has served his country in our armed services, compelled in this modest monologue mostly by anger and by empathy and sympathy for the savagery being done to a Ukrainian nation of people of simple lives and loving families…

Shall I say, I just needed to vent my emotions and at least convey my humble and best wishes to those good and humble people subjected to this ‘Power and Ego-fed’ dictator.

I pray for the Ukrainian people a quick end to these hostilities and a return to normalcy – if it can ever be so…my heart grieves with yours.

BR Chitwood – March 7, 2022

https://brchitwood.com

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The Author’s Mission

For Me, I Write

BR Chitwood

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Since my mobile and turbulent childhood my head fills with the events and movements of the days, the emotions that come and stay with me until I write about them from some subliminal heart/mind connection the words flow onto the screen of my laptop. I accept them and allow them entry on the page – as though they were destined to be there, an outlet for the subtle joy and pain of the soul…it is my belief that all artistic endeavors come from that similar sort of tingling.

As some subscribers to my blog posts might allow, most of my writing has a ‘Romantic’ cant, from my murder mysteries (some taken from actual crimes) to genres with historical essence, love, poetry, murder, and current events. My writing heroes of the past are many – …Hemingway, Steinbeck, Crane, DeMille, Grisham, to name a few. For Poetry, my favorite is an ex-Priest named James Kavanaugh.

I have written twenty books, their ‘buy sites’, 375 blog posts written over the years, plus poetry and tribute pieces to Arnold Palmer and other notables. That Website/Blog site address is:

https://brchitwood.com

 I hope you will visit my website/blog, look over some of the book synopses, posts, poetry…perhaps you will find something you would like to read…

At least, I can hope!

Wishing all writers and readers my best wishes.

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BR Chitwood – February 28, 2022

https://brchitwood.com

Author BR Chitwood’s Writing

By BR Chitwood

PLEASE VIEW

  1. You sleep while riding a ‘mare’ or ‘dreaming peacefully’. You awake in a ‘bad mood’, snack on quick and easy ‘coffee and toast’ (too much coffee!), and drive to your job – while your kidneys insist on your quick attention…
  2. You sit at your desk, work menial tasks and have your fanciful day dreams and ‘Romantic Thoughts’…
  3. You think of where you and your soulmate will vacation… perhaps a great resort in Aruba or an Ocean Cruise…
  4. Work ends for the day, and you go for cocktails at your favorite pub with your favorite lady…
  5. At home, feeling guilty, you open your laptop and resume writing the manuscript for your new novel…
  6. You take a break, check your E-Mail. There is your new blog message: “5-Star Reads in most genres – 20 books, some based on true crime, Short Stories, Flash Fiction – some books are related to true criminal events: https://brchitwood.com – Also, Romance and Suspense…”
  7. Ah, c’mon! Take a ‘tour’! There are some great books and writing at this website…
  8. If you are a reader, avid or not, you will enjoy the books’ synopses, blog posts, short stories, flash fiction, poetry.  
  9. ‘Thank you’ from the author – and good reading!

BR Chitwood – February 24, 2022

https://brchitwood.com

https://twitter.com@brchitwood

https://facebook.com/billyray.chitwood

So – Will Sanity Come?

So – Will Sanity Come?

BR Chitwood

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         So Many variable Genes and Hiding Places!

         So Many ‘Wiring Distinctions’ in the Brain!

         So Many Insatiable Appetites for Pleasures!

         So Many Idiots in High Government Places!

         So Many People Shocked by Sexual Change!

         So Unacceptable are our Leaders’ Response!

         So Many Selfish leaders serve their purpose!

         So Many Splinter Groups erupt in Madness!

         So Much Chaos and Madness Follow Globally!

         So When Will We Ever Learn? When Do We End?

         So, When Does True Wisdom Finally Come?

So, Does Death Bring Us the Ultimate Truth?

         So, Is This Life I Truly Love Really Simple?

So, Do People Insist on Making Life Difficult?

BR Chitwood – February 21, 2022

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Visit my Website/Blog to view my 20 books, 375 blog posts, short stories, and Flash Fiction.

https://brchitwood.com

https://twitter.com @brchitwood

https://facebook.com/Billyray/chitwood

Killing Machines

Actress Brutally Murdered! Unsolved in Phoenix, Arizona

Killing Machines?

BR Chitwood

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Not so fast!

Killing someone with a gun, hammer, fists, eyes blazing with sadistic, satanic glee must be the most despicable human trait. Yet, somehow, in a hostile war between countries, our warriors are trained to blow their enemies to bloody fragments in many number of ways, and, in the process, find reason to celebrate their victories…it is the essential nature of the warriors – their training includes film, hand-to-hand combat, all numbers of ways to destroy their enemies.

Most of us cannot fathom the beasts within those of us who hate so fervently and vindictively that we cannot control the terrible urges that possess us. Real war builds those elements within us, particularly those of us who live a sheltered life in our religious groups and our private ways of life.

Being a veteran of one of our wars and having lived up close and personally with a good lady friend of my wife and me. That lovely young lady was a secretary for two attorney friends of mine, an actress/model who shared living quarters with my wife briefly before our marriage.

 During one record-hot summer day of a Phoenix, Arizona August evening this lovely lady was savagely murdered in the Northeast desert of Phoenix and left there by the killer for two record-heat weeks to be ravaged by desert denizens and her body unrecognizable… She was found by two terrified young boys during their rock-hunting hobby and rushed to tell police of their find.

My wife, I, and friends of this lady were devastated with the news and mad as hell when we were finally told by the newspapers of the method of her murder. The killer’s method of murdering her, the newspaper told us…the bastard dragged her through the desert, stopping every few yards to slam large rocks down upon her head. The case is now closed, and the beast is still out there somewhere, his crime unsolved.

This case, so far as I know, is still an ‘Unsolved Closed Case’ in the Phoenix PD files. Please, if you have any information about this case, please contact the Phoenix Police Department. Thank you…

Being an author, I ultimately wrote a fictional novel of my friend’s homicide, using library microfiche for the only facts available about the case. That book became the first book of my ‘Bailey Crane Six-Book Mystery Series’. The title of the book: “An Arizona Tragedy – A Bailey Crane Mystery” (Book 1). You can find it on Amazon or the ‘buy site’ at my blogsite/Website:

https://brchitwood.com under ‘Books by BR Chiwood’.

 Thank you and always, good reading…

https://twitter.com  @brchitwood

https://facebook.com/billyray.chitwoodC

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THE POWER MERCHANTS author

Read the ‘PROLOGUE’ and ‘CHAPTER ONE’ of “The Power Merchants”

by BR Chitwood

The Power Merchants

A Novel by:

BR Chitwood

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Prologue

She was a dazzling lady with long platinum hair in a perfect rhythmic bounce on her shoulders, without a stray maverick wisp out of place. Her cameo face, a near gemstone carved by a Master, her joyous blue eyes twinkling as she walked toward me. Her tanned body was covered by a soft mauve fabric that possessively clung to every curve of her body with every magical step she took. She could have been a Hollywood starlet made up beautifully for her role in an epic movie, portraying a ‘golden girl’ of Hollywood’s early days.

Watching her approach, I stole a glance over each of my shoulders to see if she was making those erogenous steps for me or someone behind me.

No one behind me, just a wall I forgot was there. OMG, she’s walking to me.

With a coquettish smile of full lips made up of a soft and non-glaring shade of red matching her dress, she took loveliness to a completely new standard. She came to a stop at my high table and stools. All eyes in the posh Princess VP Lounge were upon her as she strode elegantly toward me.

She spoke and her voice matched all the rest of her, like mellow harp music in a grand arbor of lilacs and roses.

“You are Bradley Benedict and you match perfectly the description given of the gentleman with whom I was asked to keep company this evening – in a ‘nice way’, of course.” She gave me another erogenous move that I suspected no other woman could ever duplicate…

I attempted a response, but she was not through with her introduction…

“Do you mind terribly, Bradley, if we go to the lower tables and cushiony chairs in the Princess Dinner Lounge? It is more comfortable, and the music is so soft and pleasant there.”

“I don’t suppose…” The lounge music began its long session, and she was unable to hear me above the rumble of drums, bass, guitar, and horn.

I stood, smiled, loudly told the waiter to transfer my tab to the restaurant lounge, and the lovely lady and I strolled slowly the short distance to the other, more sedate, lounge.

The Princess Lounge was a large intimate room clothed in a magical lighting that seemed to sweep through the room with unobtrusive and delicate alternating shades of pleasing colors – if the shades were colors at all, but only subtle shifts at certain locations of the room. I could never tire of this lounge were I to have dinner with a special someone like the gorgeous lady who just joined me. The room was elegant in its leather comfort and sundry accouterments – fresh flowers, their scents an intoxicating pleasure in breathing, sculptures of high quality, notable portraits of prominent dignitaries on the golden-hued walls. The Princess Dinner Lounge was the epitome of consummate beauty, luxury and refinement.

In this truly magnificent environment, our drinks ordered, I spoke: “This is quite sudden, but, then, how could I not accept such an offer from one so beautiful? You have me awkwardly off-balance, lovely lady. You know my name. I don’t know yours.”

“Christie Conway… Oh, Bradley, this lounge takes my breath away in its beauty…”

She paused, about to say something else, so I asked: “Yes, it is a magnificent room, and I’m delighted you like it. May I ask: to whom do I owe for such lovely company this evening? I can hardly wait for the answer to that question.”

With a slight shift in her soft lounge chair and a subtle smile that invited me to end all protocols, to rise from my own comfortable chair, to take a stride to her side, to lean and kiss those luscious lips, she said, “I’m sorry, Bradley, I’m sworn to secrecy.”

When I recovered from that impulsive moment, I responded. “So, are you with an agency that caters to requests like, ‘keeping company’ with men who might be in the throes of divorce, middle-age, or, senility?”

“You know, it just occurred to me, we have names that form ‘BB’ and ‘CC’. Can we use those initials tonight?” Ah, she was changing the subject.

“And, pretty Miss, you didn’t answer my question. Are you with an agency, CC?”

“No, BB. I’m an unworking actress.”

“Here in Phoenix? Wait, wait… I’ve seen you on TV commercials. Did you act in California on one of the daily ‘soaps’?”

“Yes…and, yes.”

“Okay, tell me, what is this all about? Is someone playing a colossal joke on me?”

“I don’t know about that, BB. I was just paid to give you company at dinner and to give you an envelope at my departure.”

CC reached into her purse and pulled out a small manila envelope.

I reached for the envelope, and she pulled it out of my reach and said: “I was told to give it to you upon my leaving tonight, so, if you want to skip buying me dinner I’ll give the envelope to you now, and leave.” She smiled sweetly.

“Would you like to leave now, CC?”

“No. I find you a handsome man, easy to talk to. I think we would have a fun evening, again, in a ‘nice way’.”

“I’m flattered. Thank you… Can you tell me anything about the person or persons who asked you to be here tonight? You are beautiful, and I would love to buy you dinner and spend the evening with you – in a ‘nice way’.” I smiled but I was sure the smile and eyebrow lift conveyed no gallantry at all.

“I was only told by the agency to be here tonight…the agency gets a percentage of the money. I can only say that I would not expect my agency to send me out for anything not lawful.”

Soft romantic music began to flow through the hidden speakers, audible enough to enhance and please any mode of conversation.

We talked, had dinner, and, at our parting in the parking lot we instinctively kissed – not a kiss of lovers but with perhaps a hint of that ‘goal’ in mind. She handed me the envelope and walked away to her car, stopping once to look back and give me a wave… That had to mean something… Yeah, she was making sure you weren’t following her.

I absently put the envelope in my sport coat inside pocket and went to my car.

My mind berated me with thoughts…

You dummy. No phone number. No address. You’re daft… I tried, but she changed the subject. You should have tried again. You’re some ‘Romeo’…

Chapter One

The bikini-clad blonde on the large billboard looked down on me with a smile that said she loved me, and some uncontrollable part of me had the gall to convince my cock to get alert for action. That, as a full-body numbing buzz came and filled my total awareness with razor-sharp pains in all parts of my disabled anatomy.

First, though, I needed to remember why the hell I was lying in this ditch some fifty yards from what looked like a state highway. The area was too isolated to be a major road. At this point I saw no traffic at all.

Uh-oh, another sharp jolt just sparked my brain, letting me know where the pain was coming from. Just when I figured the pain was coming from the right side of my body and figured it was time for me to move, the left side of my head near the eye urgently warned me, ‘do not move quite yet’.

I closed my eyes tightly as though that might offer some sanity to the moment, but it only added to the pain. After softly touching my rib cage, carefully moving my feet and hands, after touching a spot above my left forehead, I felt the large wide lump with a long gaping valley running along my forehead, I let out a sharp cry when I touched bone some a few centimeters down, a half-inch above the eyebrow. The exquisite pain threw me back, slamming my head into a boulder I didn’t know was there, and one more yell came. With the yell came more pain, and some part of the engine inside me was fit enough to allow me some self-pity.

Self-Pity?

How did I get to self-pity when I did not even know my name? For whatever the stupidity, that thought had a consoling effect.

I lay there, not moving because both sides of my body were denying that simple task. So, I lay there, thinking… How the hell did I get here? That thought was swallowed up with the previous jarring truth… I did not know who and what to call me. I did not know me.

Oh, my God!

The panic now lodged there in my crowded brain made me try again to get up out of the ditch, but I only fell back to my earthen bed of the moment – dusty earth, gravel, and the afore-mentioned boulder.

Some knowledge bade me take long deep breaths and not try to figure it all out. I guess some ruling gene from the cranial pool was trying to settle me down with the fact that my mind and body was going through a temporary shut-down, and, again, how do I get ‘there’ when I don’t even know my name and how and why fate put me here?

I lay there, taking deep breaths until sharp stabbing ouches hit me. I tried to calm my thinking. All events have reasons, good and bad. It would come to me…’Just relax’ I kept telling myself.

Lying still there, the pain was not so bad, and the bikini-blonde beauty was still trying to get me erected.

Smiling lamely and with pain at my silly thoughts I kept my gaze on the billboard.

At some point, I felt like I was going to pass out, a swooning sensation, not pain so much.

That’s when I heard movement among the dirt and gravel.

The thoughts came hard and fast. What can I do? I can hardly move.

Then I screamed at what I saw within ten feet of me.

It was a Mojave Rattlesnake.

Once again, how the deuce would I know about Mojave rattlesnakes when I don’t even know my name? Then, another weird thought hit me, a movie I saw – Harrison Ford in Temple of Doom. Indiana Jones hated snakes, and he ran like hell from them…

That thought came at me from Hell’s murky furnace, and, hating snakes with good movie company, I rushed on ‘auto-pilot’ to get up, and the excruciating pain took me back to sudden darkness on my earthen bed of dirt and gravel.

Thoughts can be obnoxious – my last bit of thinking as the pain took me again to the nether world of unconsciousness: at least I won’t see the wiggly bastard finish me off.

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Complete your reading of this novel at Amazon buy site:

NEW RELEASE – 2021

“The Power Merchants”

A Novel for the Time in which we are Living AND ‘A beautiful Love Story to shade some of our Realities…

Years of the Covid-19 Pandemic!

A man is presumed dead., left in a ditch by the side of a State Road near Scottsdale, Arizona, badly beaten, with two bullets in his body…

This scenario begins THE POWER MERCHANTS, a book that explores political intrigue and malfeasance at the highest levels of our Federal Government, and the sexual appetites of a billionaire who seduces under-age prepubescent girls for his evil pleasure and to curry favor with some highly placed politicians…

“The Power Merchants” is also a beautiful love story that ‘Romance genre’ readers will find pleasure in watching how it all unfolds…

Plus, there is actual truth in this fictional narrative that encompasses some of the events shaping our world today, certainly not the least of which is the Corona Virus Pandemic and the new policies set in place to fight this juggernaut, some people feel are corrupting our civil liberties…

This is a fast-paced novel that deals with the issues of today, the economic spillage from the pandemic that is affecting every major country in the world…

This novel will keep your interest as you follow the good and bad characters that are on display in “The Power Merchants” – yes, it’s fiction but it smacks of so much truth…your enjoyment is guaranteed in reading this finely crafted literature…

Just saying…

End of Sample

You can purchase this book on AMAZON:

Amazon Universal BUYSITE:

mybook.to/ThePowerMerchants

Conundrum Craziness

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Conundrum Craziness

BR Chitwood

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No!

Not, AOC!

Not, ‘Building Back Better’!

We waken in the morning…

Not, ‘Covid’ and mad Scientist…

We drink coffee, eat, go to work, or, retired from the ‘bee buzzing’, we read. go to our computers to display our ‘genius’ and/or idiocy, write blog posts or books, watch crazy news, read, settle into our favorite habits, find boredom preference in our routines…

After all, we are retired, no longer fighting AM and PM traffic…

We become habitual and wary of our existence…

Some political scenarios make us feel so uncertain about our world and day-to-day lives…

I look out the big windows by my office and see a clear blue sky, an inviting sun, a mountain, a pool, a relaxing seating area, and debate with myself whether or not to finish this post – actually, forgetting the original purpose for the post, other than more railing about our unpredictable political structure, the build-up of Russian troops on the border of Ukraine…

Easy decision…

Actually, the world has not changed all that much since I once cared to debate the political stature of our governments, their leaders, and the political tendencies of neophytes who would make our world so much better…

Hell, I’m poolside, not that anyone will be contacting me about anything I care about…

I look at my lovely wife! “Hey, milady, you going to read, play with your laptop, or you coming poolside with me?

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BR Chitwood – February 3, 2022

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Anyone interested can check out my 20 books, each book with synopsis and buy site, my 275 blog posts, my many Flash Fiction and Short Stories…

https://brchitwood.com

https://facebook.com/billyray.chitwood

(Other author sites as well.)

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