The Power Merchants

5-STAR Book Review for:
“The Power Merchants”

The Power Merchants (1)

JUST PUBLISHED IN JUNE – 2020!!!

by BR Chitwood

Here is my first book review for “The Power Merchants” –  A 5-Star Review Beauty!

Diogenes
5.0 out of 5 stars — Chitwood At His Best!
Reviewed in the United Kingdom on 1 June 2020
Verified Purchase
Author Billy Ray Chitwood is at his best in this tale of lawless adventure.
Most of Chitwood’s books that I’ve read so far deal with themes of crime, individual purpose and romance, but with ‘The Power Merchants’ there is a political message to the story that I don’t recall in his other works. But of course, this being a Chitwood novel, a healthy dollop of love interest is never far away. This time the main protagonist – advocate Bradley Bennett – finds himself falling for the platinum-blonde police officer Penny Sawyer amidst the surrounding chaos of corporate skulduggery, illicit sex, corruption in high places, the political elite, and rampaging hit men. (In a nod to the present day, Chitwood even throws in Covid-19 for good measure.)
Highly recommended for lovers of action novels with a large helping of romance.

*

AND

I give the reviewer:

♥♥♥♥♥

BUY SITE AT ANY ‘AMAZON STORE FRONT’:

Click Here to Buy:

mybook.to/ThePowerMerchants  

OR:

https://www.amazon.com/Power-Merchants-BR-Chitwood-ebook/dp/B088HFQQGG?pf_rd_r=6YC1W5DDQMSDQF30QKTX&pf_rd_p=be25f964-4afb-442f-819e-9e628b270a7c&pd_rd_r=5d869cd5-f975-4f16-8409-cb6d6f243b3e&pd_rd_w=5mpdj&pd_rd_wg=Fa24D&ref_=pd_gw_ci_mcx_mr_hp_d

*

Please preview all my books and BUY SITES:

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The Power Merchants

Just released this month, here is the first book review for 

The Power Merchants

A Novel by BR Chitwood 

Book Review by John Dolan (Wordsmith estraidinaire)

Rating: 5-Stars

by Diogenes

Author Billy Ray Chitwood is at his best in this tale of lawless adventure.
Most of Chitwood’s books that I’ve read so far deal with themes of crime, individual purpose and romance, but with ‘The Power Merchants’ there is a political message to the story that I don’t recall in his other works. But of course, this being a Chitwood novel, a healthy dollop of love interest is never far away. This time the main protagonist – advocate Bradley Bennett – finds himself falling for the platinum-blonde police officer Penny Sawyer amidst the surrounding chaos of corporate skulduggery, illicit sex, corruption in high places, the political elite, and rampaging hit men. (In a nod to the present day, Chitwood even throws in Covid-19 for good measure.)
Highly recommended for lovers of action novels with a large helping of romance.
 

Hope you will buy and enjoy this latest novel by Billy Ray:

LINK TO AMAZON BUY SITES WORLDWIDE

for: “The Power Merchants”

  Click here to Buy:    mybook.to/ThePowerMercha

BR Chitwood – May 31, 2020

Please Preview my books:

http://www.billyraychitwood.com

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The Power Merchants

FREE for five days! 

The Power Merchants

br BR Chitwood

AMAZON

The Power Merchants (5)
GOOD READING!

The Power Merchants

The Power Merchants

I cannot stop writing, so I’m throwing another book out there, and, hey, Twilight and back to my beloved desert in Arizona has given me either a brain-strain or a pleasant sense of longevity.

Whatever the hell it is, I am in step with it. The mind seems to be working well until I miss putting a period at the end of a sentence.

The book is the thing, though, and I’m feeling spry enough to say this novel of over 40,000 words is one of my best, tho I thought “Mama’s Madness” or “Stranger Abduction” or “A Common Evil” or “An Arizona Tragedy” or “Dominique” or – okay, I’ll stop ‘showing off’ – would bring me a small zephyr of success. Coupled with my lack of book marketing sense and my trying to be a comedian at the same time have completely embarrassed me to the point of tears. It is okay if grown men cry…a lot.

The book, dummy, get to the book.

The Power Merchants has a lot of themes about which to narrate: Love, Murder, Love (oops), Political Intrigue (or, Disgust, if most of you prefer), and our ‘Isolation Pet’, Covid-19, and our world today, drawing it all down to Scottsdale, AZ, the US, and, well, the world.

Putting Charlie McCarthy away for the Summer, here, please, just read ‘The Prologue’ and ‘Chapter One’ for free, decide if it might be a novel you want to read further. I am in the final stages of editing, so the book will be out in a week or so.

The only commitment I need is that all 500,000 of you lovely people BUY the book AND write AMAZON REVIEWS, and the first 100,000 people get their costs back. That is not so tough, right?

(Charly, you are down for the Summer. Be quiet, please.)

He is just kidding around, folks.

Can you let me know how you like the book cover?

Believe me, this is my best work since my last twenty books. Without that ‘further ado’ some people talk about, I give you the Prologue and a scary Chapter One

Please, enjoy.

*

[From BR Chitwood’s – May 2020 novel:

“The Power Merchants”]

*

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 is 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 obviously 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 have 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 were not 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 are daft.

I tried, but she changed the subject.

You should have tried again. You are 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 middle anatomy 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 bone and flesh.

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 centimeters down, a half-inch above the eyebrow. The exquisite pain threw me back, slamming my head into a boulder I did not 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 were going through a totally awesome 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 that bikini-blonde beauty was still trying to get me erected. In this state of pain, how the hell can that be?

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 slow swooning sensation, not pain so much.

That is 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 do not 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 abject unconsciousness: at least I will not see the wiggly bastard finish me off…

*****

Okay, you friends and readers out there, that is all you get for now, so, let me know your thoughts.

 Best wishes to all.

BR Chitwood – 5/1/20

 *

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Wordsmith Extraordinaire: John Dolan

From My Archives

An Interview With John Dolan – Author of:

FUN WITH DICK

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-NEW for 2020-

SYNOPSIS:

Twenty-five-year-old Richard Blackheart – geek, wage slave and Superman wannabe – seems destined for a life of dull obscurity.
Then one day he hits upon an idea for the ultimate non-self-help book, ‘How to Die Alone, Smelly and Unloved’, and things start to change …

‘Fun with Dick’ is a heart-wrenching, hilarious and harrowing tale of one man’s struggle against gravity and cats. It is not recommended for people who are easily triggered. If you do read it, keep your shrink’s phone number handy.

-Now Available on Amazon-

BUY SITES:

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/Fun-Dick-John-Dolan-ebook/dp/B083RW93CV/ref=sr_1_2?keywords=fun+with+dick&qid=1583519142&s=books&sr=1-2

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Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Fun-Dick-John-Dolan/dp/1912361078/ref=sr_1_2?keywords=fun+with+dick&qid=1583519691&s=books&sr=1-2

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Amazon Canada: https://www.amazon.ca/Fun-Dick-John-Dolan-ebook/dp/B083RW93CV/ref=sr_1_2?keywords=fun+with+dick&qid=1583519839&s=books&sr=1-2

Check these books out as well:

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51voQBlT+kL 51voQBlT+kL._SY346_ 81WelIQjL4L._AC_UY218_ML3_ 91xMlvB5I2L._AC_UY218_ML3_ 81cS+YXx-bL._AC_UY218_ML3_https://www.amazon.co.uk/Fun-Dick-John-Dolan/dp/1912361078/ref=sr_1_2?keywords=fun+with+dick&qid=1583544857&s=books&sr=1-2

JUST CLICK ON ANY COVER FOR THE BUY SITES

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AN UPDATE

NEW!

 

A Disclaimer ‘Preface’

Perhaps I’m over-stepping the ‘surly bonds’ of respectability with this archive rendering, but, nearly a decade ago, a jolly fellow from my beloved ancestral England caught my attention with his wordsmith brilliance and his hilariously creative way of interviewing fellow authors, myself included. I’m proud to say that I, in turn, escaping his threats, innuendoes, infringements and lawsuits with promises to glorify him daily with tweets, loving words, and phrases, was permitted to interview the author in question by using the same technique… Without my stale humor attempts, the author being interviewed did indeed make author interviews not only informative but so much fun to read, not to mention the good information delivered.

I’ve gone to the archives and retrieved that ‘Interview’ of some years ago, and I thank him for being here today – at least with his words of years ago – although he appears, as he did then, a bit angry by his mode of transportation.

John Dolan is the author’s name, and I’ve just read his latest ‘jewel fonts’ found in, “Fun With Dick.” In fact, I’ve read all his books – you will see some of them below. This old country-boy is an ‘easy sale’, can be sold just about any item, tech goodies, automobiles with wooden tires, and ice cream on a frigid day, but, when it comes to writing, holding readers captive for hundreds of pages, not wanting an ending, I cannot be fooled…at least, that’s what my good wife tells me.

So, while JD’s check is not in the amount agreed upon, I truly do love his writing. (John, please, don’t go nutsy on me…you’re going to break the orange crate…) I’m just kidding about the check…this time, I shall truly stop with the banal humor.

Here is my long-ago interview of John Dolan, the idea for which came after reading many of his author interviews of the same technique…indeed, HIS very own ‘intellectual property’. For me, those unique ‘John Dolan Interviews’ were ‘golden nuggets’ to treasure…okay, sorry for the trite, sophomoric bromide.  If you’ve never read them, go to John Dolan’s archives. It will be worth your trip. They were truly humorous and informative BLASTS.

Just a final few words about John Dolan’s NEW 2020 novel“Fun With Dick.” This is a book I highly recommend you read. It has elements from several genres, and, I promise, you will not be sorry you read it.

 Here is the 5-Star Review I gave “Fun With Dick” on Amazon:

Billy Ray Chitwood

*

5.0 out of 5 stars – The Author-Wizardry of John Dolan: FUN WITH DICK – 5 Huge Stars

Billy Ray Chitwood

Reviewed in the United States on February 17, 2020

Format: Kindle Edition – Verified Purchase

AND, Now, 8-years old, but still relevant:

An Interview:  John Dolan – Author Extraordibnaire

This is a ‘Do Not Miss’ combo for you: an interview with a quality author and a partial review of his 5-Star book, “Everyone Burns.” If you have not the pleasure of reading John Dolan you’ve missed a ‘Wordsmith Extraordinaire’ creating his magic. JD is truly a quintessential author for his times. He is also the man who introduced me and countless others to the word, ‘Galericulate’ — that was once the name of his website/blog. (See end of interview and summary.) He’s the man hidden under the hat and he’s roaming around some continent or another. At last report, he was in Amsterdam…

OOPS – UPDATE: that was 2012…he was just recently released from Foxes and Hounds Tranquility Center! He’s much better now, I’m told! I do so hope my information is accurate…

JUST KIDDING. JD IS JUST FINE – ORNERY, BUT, FINE!

But, be gone, my foolishness! Here’s a re-blog of my 2012 interview with this important literary figure and an update on his writing and ‘book cover’ changes…

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BUY SITES FOR “Everyone Burns”:

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/Everyone-Burns-Time-Blood-Karma-ebook/dp/B008I6GXM2/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=everyone+burns&qid=1583442961&s=books&sr=1-1

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Everyone-Burns-Time-Blood-Karma-ebook/dp/B008I6GXM2/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=everyone+burns&qid=1583443269&s=books&sr=1-1

Amazon Canada: https://www.amazon.ca/Everyone-Burns-Time-Blood-Karma-ebook/dp/B008I6GXM2/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=everyone+burns&qid=1583443464&s=books&sr=1-1

 *

NOW – THE 2012 AUTHOR INTERVIEW

‘Burning’ John Dolan, Writer Extraordinaire – An Interview (Sort of!)”

(BR Chitwood=BR)…(John Dolan= JD)

*

BR: Okay, Filbert, take off Mr. Dolan’s  blindfold…

JDHey, not so rough! You just don’t take ‘no’ for an answer, do you?

BR: Why should I? You can leave us now, Filbert, and take Salomé with you.

JD: You kidding me? ‘Salomé!’ ‘Filbert!’ They’re ‘junkies…’

BR: Had no money…they grabbed you for the ‘grass.’

JD: Are you mocking me? Are you stealing my interview ideas?

BR: Show me a legal document!

JD: At least my interview chair is comfortable, and my straps are pure leather, not this cord crap!

BR: You left me no choice, JD, you broke your promise to take my books viral and…

JD: Correction! I said your books were vile and pretentious…

BR: Okay, okay, I understand you’re a bit angry…just some tit for tat, that’s all. I really like your book, “Everyone Burns,” and I’m thinking ‘movie,’ ‘TV series,’ something really big. Can we just relax and talk about the book?

JD: Can you at least put a cushion on this orange crate? You’re not helping my hemmies.

BR: How’s that? Better? Good…Now tell me about “Everyone Burns” and how you came to write it.

JD: Guess I got no choice, but you gotta promise me you’re not going to make a habit of this kind of interview. This is my idea, not yours. Do we have a deal?

BR: Yes, we have a deal…Hell, I thought you would be pleased!

JD: Well, I am, sort of, but this is intellectual property, not something you mess with…plus, I only get one original idea per decade.

BR: Okay, no more kidnaps for interviews! Got it! Can we proceed?

JD: The events in “Everyone Burns” take place over seventeen days while Thailand is still numb from the giant tsunami of December 2004. Like everyone of sane mind this great catastrophe made my emotions run wild, made me think of life like I had never really thought about it. “Everyone Burns” gave me some escape from the reality all around me.

BR: Really?

JD: No, not really. I wrote it for the money and the groupies.

BR: And how’s that working out?

JD: Probably about as well as it’s working out for you, I’d guess. Well … looking at you, probably slightly better with the groupies.

BR: Here’s a quote from “Everyone Burns,” just after a bar fracas scene:

To summarise, my life is one of split personality. I am in two minds about it myself.

 Nevertheless, down these narrow streets a man must walk, even if it is in flip-flops.

But I am no Philip Marlowe, and Koh Samui is not film-noir USA. There is nothing

of Hollywood’s black and white morality on this most colourful of Thailand’s

Islands. And long overcoats just make you sweat in the sun. Here The Postman

Never Rings Twice, simply because he never rings at all. He has better things to do. Lamai’s and Chaweng’s adventurers generally pack a condom, not a gun.”

You open the book with a broken cue stick inflicting injury to your protagonist and it’s like the excitement and action  never lets up after that. I picked this quote because it’s one of my favorites but also because it gives the reader a sample of your splendid writing…

Do you have any disagreement with my assessment here, JD?

JD: Take these cords off and I’ll kiss you. The passage is also a favorite of mine. Aside from the style thing in my writing, it is just basically who I am. But I’m NOT David Braddock, by the way. I want to make that clear in case my wife Fiona is reading this! A book of this genre for me has to move at a rapid pace, the action mostly non-stop. A lot of what I write about in “Everyone Burns” has some factual similarities, the people, the places, the time certainly. And, of course, you know my English is rather precise, proper, as it was intended to be! WHY are you smiling and shaking your head?

BR: Never mind, just me being me! I just like the ‘snap to’ words you love coming off your lips. It’s a great book, JD. Wish we had more time because I’d like to mention “People With Real Lives Don’t Need Landscapes,” a book of poetry you wrote in 2003. You certainly have a way with words, JD, and I happen to love poetry. As Amazon puts it, “This big bouncy collection of contemporary poetry draws on both popular and high culture. The poems have energy, imagination, humor, and lively speech rhythms. They are light, weighty, topical, intellectual, gory, sad, wild, and tender all at once… Why are you vigorously shaking your head, JD?”

JD: I didn’t write that.

BR: What?

JD: I didn’t write that collection of poetry. That was a different John Dolan.

BR: Are you sure?

 JD: What do you mean, “Am I sure”? I’m not likely to forget a thing like that, am I?Sheesh! It’s scary how your brain can live in such a small space.

BR: That hurts, JD. To think, a while ago you were going to ‘kiss me’… Oh, well, regardless, I loved your book “Everyone Burns” and can’t wait for the sequel. [That would be “Hungry Ghosts.”] People should really take a long look at you, my friend…

JD: ‘My friend!’ My butt is sore here, BR!

BR: Filbert and Salome are ‘napping’ right now. I’ll untie you, but, please, no fracas here. Tit for tat, remember? Be gentle.

End of Interview… [JD: Please, no retaliation!]

 *

 Browse all books by John Dolan: Sign up for his Newsletter, news, articles: johndolanauthor.com

Follow JD on Twitter: twitter.com/johndolanauthor

Visit JD’s Author Website: johndolanauthor.com – you will find information about this unique and wonderful literary genius, his books, his life and times…

You want good reading? Check out the books above, and, more…you will not be disappointed. John Dolan is destined for literary greatness! YOU HEARD IT HERE!

 (Really, follow him AND read him. He’s ugly mean: it took two junkies and me to get him here for this ‘Orange Crate’ interview!)

 

 

 

 

 

Welcome to – “Serpent Rock”

 

Welcome to: SERPENT ROCK

[Excerpt #1]

Chapter Two

The first fish was caught by Conrad, a big one we saw come out of the water, stretching the line and giving our buddy a fight for his life, a fight he could handle. Like even seasoned fishermen do, we were yelling at Conny to do this and that. He was yelling back, a simple, “Shut up. I’ve got this whale.”

It was then our story really began…

The bow dipped in the cool green water of the sea, and Conrad lost his marlin with a broken line.

“What are you guys doing to the boat?” Conrad saw us in the stern where he was, so why was he asking, looking at us like a madman. We were no-where near the tiller.

I yelled at him as I rushed to the bow: “Nothing, Conny. The bow is dipping. I’m assessing, Man. Keep your shirt on, buddy. Sorry you lost your fish.”

At the bow, another serious dip, and this one took me off the fishing boat and into the water.

“What the hell?” I heard both my buddies yell in sync, as they came hurtling to the bow. Just as they arrived at the boat’s bow, another serious dip took me under momentarily and brought them into the water with me.

The bow line was hanging over into the water, and I grabbed it as the water was doing some amazing sloshing.

“Get back in the boat, guys,” I screamed as the sudden noise from the roiling sea was drowning out our chatter.

Conrad and Monroe made it into the boat, then helped me get aboard. We grabbed hold of the bow tubular bars and held on as best we could.

“What the hell’s going on, guys?” Monroe asked Conny and me. “Look. Eddies are forming all around the boat. Whoa. What’s that coming at us?”

Monroe was looking south. Conny was looking north. Me, I was looking east.

“The eddies are forming over here, too, Conny. What?” Conny and I looked in Monroe’s southern direction at the same time. “Oh, my God, what is that?”

There was a huge madly swirling hole coming at us, weaving this way, that way, seemingly, to build its strength.

“What the hell do we do? Hey, guys,” I’m yelling above the roar, “Let’s work our way back to the stern. The bulkhead back there has a stronger support bar. Let’s all gather there and interweave the stern lines around us for support to secure us to the boat.”

Without words, we hurriedly gathered there in the stern, interwove the stern line between and around us. We tried to yell above the noise of rushing water coming toward us.

Yelling at the top of my voice, “That maelstrom is getting bigger as it comes this way, and there are no conflicting currents that I can see and those are what causes whirlpools, but this is a whole new ballgame. The vortex is getting bigger and bigger, guys, and I’m the first one to say I’m scared as hell. I don’t know if we’re going to make this. Just hold on and pray. That thing is almost here, and it’s way bigger than the boat…I love you guys”

We were all trying to say our emotional and final goodbyes, but words were lost in the maddening noise being made by the huge maelstrom. We were lost, and for sure each of us was praying and saying those things guys don’t want ever to say – you know, endearing things one says on a deathbed.

Suddenly the bow of the boat tipped and went into the vortex of the maelstrom, straight down into a fast free fall, and, in the vacuum created by the vortex, our yells became one huge cacophonous earsplitting tone that would wrack our ear drums with an excruciating pain so unbearable as to render us unconscious in a fall of indeterminable length.

[End of excerpt #1]

*

[Excerpt #2]

Chapter Fifteen

We stayed away from Serpent Rock by design. We truly needed to make this trip simply about fishing and relaxing, allowing the beautiful Sea to calm us, rejuvenate us, make us fit warriors again.

Oh, we truly believed in our new Divine mission. There would never be any question about that. The noble nature of that mission far exceeded a mere fishing trip to Rocky Point, Mexico, but, with Conny’s near-fatal ‘car accident’ and recovery, Julie’s and my late-night broken window incident, the ‘Atheist Jerks’ interference, this trip was most definitely needed. A leisurely hook-up with the sea for fishing and assessment of recent events was our excuse, and, we were sticking with it. Hey, we loved fishing. It was our panacea, our escape from problems of all kinds.

The wives planned a Malecon Day to do some shopping, lunch, and ice cream cones, so they were happy doing their ‘thing’. The wives (and kids when with us) were always in on our fishing the lovely Sea of Cortez. The suspicion, however, was that they didn’t like being on the water as much as we ‘Three Amigos’. The wives and kids were sadly prone to sea sickness.

This trip, we were only interested in fishing, beer drinking, and perhaps in finding some solutions to our current problems. We decided to go farther south on this sea trip, so I steered us out to open sea. Soon, there was only a distant horizon forward and aft.

“I’m anchoring here, guys. There’s sea all around us, and I’m in territory that is unfamiliar. We’re already out a bit farther than we should be. Let’s do some slow trolling and see what we hit.”

Opening a fresh brewski I heard a big splash, heard Monroe make something ugly ‘holy’ that people are liable to do occasionally.

“Good gosh, look at that rod. It’s touching the port hull. What the hell do you have on that line, a giant octopus?”

“Guys, you gotta help me, I can’t hold this rod any longer. Whatever’s on the end of this line is not going to be reeled in. Trust me on that.” His face was as red as a proverbial beet – and, not from the sun.

Conny placed his rod into the rod-grip on the aft hull-rim, moved quickly, carefully, wrapped both his hands around the rod just above Monroe’s hands that were turning white with all the blood rushing upward in the bulging veins of his arm.

“I can’t hold it any longer, guys, I gotta let go. It’s killing me.” Conny was now literally being pulled to the bow and would go overboard if he did not let go of the rod.”

“Let it go,” I yelled to Conny, “You’re about to go over the side. Let it go. Let it go.”

Conny had no other choice. He let the rod go flying over the forward port-side of Chavala, and he fell to the deck of the boat while we watched his rod speedily skip for some feet on the surface of the sea, then disappear into the cobalt water.

“Are you all right, Conny?”

“Give me a minute,” Conny managed to wheeze in gaping breaths.

Monroe was also on the deck, one arm propped on the port bench-seat, taking in great whiffs of air.

The Sea of Cortez suddenly became still, its cobalt surface glassy and hardly moving. There was an eerie cast on the water, like a mirror slowly moving in different shades. If a penny dropped on the deck of The Chavala it would sound like a TNT blast.

We looked at each other, a trio of goggle-eyed rookie sailors lost in total wonderment on a silent sea – at least, for that moment.

“What the hell just happened?” Conny asked.

Before an answer came, Monroe spoke, “What’s going on, Sully? Chavala is turning.”

“I know, I’m turning us. It was my dumb idea to come this far south. We’re not sailors, guys, and we should know by now that this sea knows who we are. I have absolutely no earthly idea what just happened, but I do know I’m an idiot for coming down this far south. We’re heading back.”

“I need a beer,” Conny said. “Anyone joining me?”

We three bemused sea rookies joined in with the beer. I was the only mate sensibly sipping. Conny and Monroe were tantamount to chugalugging.

“Take it easy, you guys. You’ll make yourselves sick.”

“I’m already sick. That was a new and expensive rod.”

“You’ve got plenty of money. Better the dumb rod going overboard than you two guys. That, boys, is a yarn that will just keep on giving, each time we tell it.”

I sipped a cold frosty beer as The Chavala headed back north.

“Hey, Guys, what’s with this crazy sea?” asked Conny. “It’s smooth as silk, but it’s rocking the boat…and, what is that forward of the bow, in the water? Run silent and slow for a minute, Sully, and steer toward that object up ahead. You see it?”

“Aye, I see it, I’m heading for it now.”

When The Chavala was close enough, Monroe spoke, “Hey, it’s my rod. What the hell is going on? I’ve finished one beer and started a fresh one. We’re many nautical miles north again, and there’s my damned rod. How do we explain this, guys?”

“It’s a magical sea, fellows,” Conny said with a head shake.

“Hey, guys, it’s whatever fish you had on the line, Monroe, it worked the hook from its mouth or gill and released it. The rod came up and now floats on the sea. That’s my simple, true Sherlock deductive reasoning, boys. Someone hand me another beer.”

When I slowly steered over the rod, Monroe leaned over the port hull to pull it into Chavala, but the rod jerked away from him just as he was about to grab it.

“What the hell?” Monroe spoke in an awe-puzzled near whisper.

“You didn’t get it, Monroe?” I noticed his puzzled look from my position at the bow.

“No, it jerked away from me. It literally jerked away from me.”

“Yeah, I saw it, Sully. The rod just…just jerked away from Monroe, like it was teasing him.”

“Hey, guys, enough theatrics for the day. I likely hit a mild chop wave. I’ll turn, and we’ll get it this time around.”

“Sully, I’m telling you, it jerked away from me, no chop wave, no nothing. It was something under the water jerking it. I swear. I’m not making this up. Conny saw it as well.”

“Believe it, Sully. We’re not messing with your head. His rod just jerked away from him, like a fish or something under the water was playing with him.”

“Okay, then, say adios to your expensive rod, Monroe. I’m not sticking around this area if something funny is going on. We’re going steady north, all the way to the pier. We’ll be able to see Peñasco soon, straight ahead.”

Thirty minutes later at full speed, it was a relief for reasons I do not fully know when we saw lovely Puerto Peñasco on the horizon dead ahead.

Peñasco dead ahead, guys, and I feel better…but, wait, there’s something in the water ahead. Is that your rod again, Monroe?”

Sprawled on the starboard bench-seat, Monroe sat, stared at the site. “I’ll be damned, it is my rod.”

“Engine stalled and approaching. You should be able to get it this time.”

Monroe reached and pulled his rod into Chavala, looked it up and down. There was no line, no hook, just the rod and reel. “I’ve got it, and it’s fine, but the line is all gone. How the hell did the rod get all the way from the point we first saw it? We have had multiple beers, cruising north for over an hour or more. How do you figure it?”

“Damned if I can,” said Conny.

“Ditto,” I said with a head chocked full of questions but no definite answers. “Does anyone think we will ever have another sane fishing day on the Sea of Cortez?”

Conny and Monroe looked at each other, smiled and shook their heads. “Not in this life, maybe next.” Spoken by a true man-fisher of the sea, Conrad Finster.

As we docked at the pier, gathered our beer chest and all other paraphernalia, I asked Monroe: “What’s that stuck on the end of your rod?”

“Hadn’t noticed.” He turned the rod over, stood on the pier deck and looked. “Looks like a seashell with something inside of it.”

“Let’s take it back to the villa with us. There are people afoot here. We can look it over when we’re safely on the deck with a brewski. Wonder what the sea is telling us this trip?” I gave a half-smile, half-frown.

As we walked on the pier, Monroe dropped his rod. Conny and I walked ahead.

“Hey, guys,” Monroe yelled at us, “come back. We are not through with our trip. We have orders. The Shell popped open.”

Inside the shell was a simple message in a lovely script: “Return now to the Serpent Rock. All will be explained…”

[End of Excerpt #2]

*

SUMMARY:

I haven’t given too much away with these excerpts, just enough, I hope, to have you order an Amazona Kindle or Paperback version of “Serpent Rock.” There are many episodic and thrilling moments in this Sci-Fi novel, but that description is given by the author…it is the readers who truly determine the merits of an author and his words. Please read the book and leave your honest Amazon, Goodreads, et al reviews. Authors have a need to know the ‘good and bad’ of their writing efforts and appreciate the time book lovers devote to their reading and their comments.

AMAZON UNIVERSAL BUY SITE FOR “Serpent Rock”:

AMAZON: mybook.to/SerpentRock

It’s my belief Sci-Fi lovers will find this book to their liking and will add “Serpent Rock” to their short list of favorites. The novel is original, conceptually covering some timely issues in a genre that excels in awakening minds to new worlds of possibilities.

Thank you…

BR Chitwood – January 31, 2020

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Ah, Arizona and the Muse! AND,NEW BOOKS!

Arizona and the Muse! And, New Books!

Finally feeling my body coming back from the five-day cross-country drive from Kentucky to the desert that I love! A few pains here and there, a few errands to take care of errata – can I call DMV, Doctors, Medications, et al errata? Well, guess I just did that.

However, my new Science-Fictions book, warts and all, is coming out this month, and it was an absolute ‘gas’ to write – are people still using, ‘gas’ as a ‘happy word’?

The scary part is now here for me – launching, marketing, making the waves needed to get reading folks of the genre reading my humble effort…tell you what! Now, I like everythng I write, but this one is really special because I get to let it ‘all hang out’ with SERPENT ROCK – are people still using the phrase, ‘all hang out’? Well, it’s all okay if people are not using it – hell, they know I’m an ‘old geezer’ anyhow – are people still using ‘old geezer’ these days. Those new and ‘blood-vein’ tiny auto-tanks the Med-People will needle into all the body blood routes of a person’s body are hopefully just about ready to start generating new fresh new blood cells ven got those little ‘bugger-tanks’ to shove tenderly into the veins to cure cancer, ‘arthur’, all kinds of diseases and ailments…shucks, folks, those micro-bio researchers are going to challenge immortality, but not to worry, it won’t be the ‘Frankenstein’ way. 

But, hang on, SERPENT ROCK is not to be forgotten here. It is brand new and a virtual sizzler of a book, meaning it’s got thrills, chills, and three enterprising young businessmen who find more than ‘Groupers and Marlin’ on the Sea of Cortez in Mexico. Readers liking some chilling moments, excitement that will make you lose some sleep because they won’t want to wait to find out what happens next. SERPENT ROCK has it all: a massive battle between ‘Good and Evil’, assassination attempts, and maybe, just, maybe, a small tad of super story telling. So, please BUY the Kindle or Paperback, and, I’ll give you your money back if you don’t like the book – that’s providing you can find me! But, seriously, I do honestly believe it is very good book, and, my first venture into Sci-Fi. Please help me market this little ‘puppy’, will you, good people? I promise, you will enjoy SERPENT ROCK. Here’s the cover image of the ‘new kid on the block’… Okay, no more cute little euphemisms that have outlived their time.

 0001-4465189116 

Now, if it’s okay with you since I now have your attention, I would like to mention another of my books, A BAILEY CRANE MYSTERY. The title of the first book in the series of six is: AN ARIZONA TRAGEDY. 

AN ARIZONA TRAGEDY is a novel very close to my heart and ‘soul’, a book inspired by a brutal murder many years ago of an actress friend of my wife and me. ‘Cathy Gibbs’ is the fictional name used in the book, but this twenty-six year old actress and model, mother of two, went missing for nearly a month during an Arizona August Summer. When two kids were ‘rock hunting’, they found her under some Palo Verde trees in the NE section of Phoenix, that August record heat and the denizens of the desert left investigators virtually nothing in the way of evidentiary clues. 

AN ARIZONA TRAGEDY was my fictional attempt at closure for my friend. She was the lady who nudged me into acting – nothing monumental, just TV commercials, some film, still modeling, and a play performance. Cathy was also a secretary for some my attorney buddies during that period. Her friends were many, and there were some popular ‘boy friend’ suspencts, all passing the infamous lie-detector tests.

 After all the years, the Phoenix Police Department would be most interested if anyone might have any information about this terrible crime, In my writing of this novel, I use the newspaper accounts at the time and the small amounts known prior and after the homicide. In my research, I found another lovely secretary in Wasington, DC, murdered in much the same manner as ‘Cathy’ one month earlier, so I wove my tale around those two homicides and solved the case – with the strong help of a strong lady cop I created in the book.

 Just recently, I did some rewrite for a paperback version of AN ARIZONA TRAGEDY coming out soon, either this month of February. The paperback has a different cover from its Kindle cousin and some rewriting here and there. It is a book I believe readers will thoroughly enjoy, and it has a lot of the real ‘Me’ in there. I hope you will read AN ARIZONA TRAGEDY and leave a review on Amazon. Here is the paperback’s new cover image.

An Arizona Tragedy

As always, I will appreciate any and all help you can give me with the launch of these two books.

My best wishes to all…

Billy Ray chitwood – January 15, 2020

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Serpent Rock

Announcement of BR Chitwood’s New Novel:

“Serpent Rock

-A Science-Fiction battle between Good & Evil-

Three enterprising young men go deep-sea fishing on their beloved ‘Sea of Cortez’ and find more than their bright minds and Derring-do could ever imagine. Their lives will be altered by a higher wisdom of noble purpose and design, and they will be ever diligent and possessed by the knowledge from the sea.

 

Serpent Rock‘coming soon’ early January 2020 novel is somewhat of a departure for this author as his previous books have occupied themes of love, romance, mystery, suspense, memoir, many of which have their fiction coming from real life tragedy and truth.

“Serpent Rock” is essentially a book about ‘good and evil’, about life’s always present decisions of choice, about faith and love, about mortal destination when the body can no longer carry its burdens…about some of the issues we are encountering in today’s world

For the reader who likes action and excitement in their books, who wish to be on the edge of their seats in situational scenes, this book will not disappoint. For those who like Science-Fiction, this book will not disappoint. For those who want originality in their reading experience, Serpent Rock will not disappoint.

“Serpent Rock” is the author’s mind exploration of items on life’s endless menu of possibilities, an attempt to entertain his reading audience with a few fresh strokes of his pen.  Suffice it to say, the author had much fun in writing this novel and hopes that its content will amuse and, to some degree, enlighten the readers.

-BR Chitwood-

WATCH FOR IT AND REVIEW IT IF YOUR TIME ALLOWS! Here is a sample:

PROLOGUE

Jimminy, where do I begin. It’s so complex, this writing business, and I’m such a simple guy. The story is all going to sound so darned far-fetched, but, what the heck, might as well go from the start because if there was ever a story that needed to be told, it’s this story…darn betcha.

Conrad, Monroe, and I were deep sea fishing in Mexico, on the Sea of Cortez, far and away from the shoreline. With binoculars you could see the old ship wreckage that people in the village were apt to tell about to anyone who would listen. It was the kind of story you could embellish and put so many faces on it that it would become a story that could, and, would turn out to be a classic.

That’s not the story I’m about to write out for you in this old, stained notebook that’s been water-soaked, dried several times, lumpy from those fishing trips. It’s not because I can’t afford a new notebook, surely can, but this is the notebook on which this story has got to be written.

No, the story I’m about to write down is one you won’t believe, and I’m here to tell you, there won’t be any fault I’m finding with your disbelief. In fact, I’m going to come to some parts I don’t even believe myself. But, there’s a ‘but’, and, that is, this little tale happened for sure. You can drink to that, and my hope is you do some toasting with whatever kind of drinking you do to commemorate my telling you this mad, mad, ‘believe it or not’ yarn.

In the end, you would likely want some proof that any of what I’ll be writing down really happened. Well, know this up front, there is not going to be any proof, but you can check me ‘up and down’ from ‘sea to shining sea’, any sources you want, and you’re going to find I’m a man of my word – in this case, many words.

Guess what? It’s quite alright if your doubting the veracity of my tale leads you to ‘guffaw’ and curse me, because it is that kind of tale. Just take my word, this happened to a certainty what I’m about to write here. When I say write, I’m being literal, holding an old stubby pencil between my fingers and writing. I’m going to have some sore digits on my left hand, for sure. I’m one of them left-handed fellows who just took to my left-hand when I was a young fellow growing up.

I suspect it’s only fair that I tell you, people have accused me of being long-winded, but they caveat it by saying that I’m a truthful man and don’t know of me ever telling a lie. Now, sure, that pleases me. That long-winded stuff comes natural for me because of my family upbringing. My lovable old grandpappy was forever telling me tales about his life on the sea and I guess that got into my blood.

Except for a mild expletive here and there you won’t be finding much in the way of foul language and no porno-business. People will say I tell tall, long tales but they are for the most part clean tales. Those same people tell me that I alliterate an awful lot as well.

Anyway, I’ve got to get this story on paper, bad as the soiled paper is, because it’s an unbelievable yarn by anybody’s standard. It’s not for me to say it will be well-written, but I’m going to try very hard to make as few mistakes as I can. I’ve never been a grammar-hog, and I’m not going to start now. That’s what we students called our English teacher in high school – well, Sullivan (Sully, to you folks reading this) – where else would an English teacher be but in a school?

There I go, getting wrapped up in my own words, or, my own nonsense.

Well, it just came to me I’m being long-winded and should be getting to the story I’m here to tell you.

Well, hang on, ‘cause here we go…

(End of Sample)

BR Chitwood – December 20, 2019

 *

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“Daddy, No!”

Daddy, No!

 In a Colorado upscale community near Denver in August of 2018 there were acts of violence so vile that I thought not to write about them, but, then, changed my mind. The desire, nay, the need to write about these brutal homicides was too strong for me to ignore.

 

In the early morning hours of that day in August, a man strangled to death his wife, then smothered to death his two daughters, ages 3 and 4. They were crimes that captured the attention of the entire nation – perhaps even, the world. My need to write about these awful murders can hopefully be forgiven, but I wanted to get inside the head of this monster who would commit such atrocious acts. My novella is not a ‘long-dwelling account’ of the crimes themselves, but of the fictional prison life being lived currently by this family slayer. The book’s narrative is an attempt at understanding the sociopathy, psychopathy of this ugly form of humankind. It can be said accurately that I am playing ‘clinical psychologist’ in this book. Whether these humble thoughts can come near to that professional league, no way, but, at least, I get to relieve some anger and angst.

 

The following two paragraphs from the beginning of ‘Chapter Four’ in Daddy, No! just might create the terrifying atmosphere for the book. Superfluously, this novella is fiction, but many of the details therein come from truth of this tragedy. The following has truth as well.

 

Chapter Four

Sobbing in small choking gasps the little girls wrap their arms around each other, their tiny trembling bodies absorbed in these moments of terror, their short body-quakes synonymous with the gaping flairs of their eyes – wide with the unknown evil outside their bedroom door. With each audible wall bump, each stifled scream, and demonic moan, they tighten their grasps of each other. Their anguished faces are scarlet red and moist from their prolonged fear, their eyes darting hither and yon in nervous expectations of an unknown, impending danger. It is sheer paralyzing, catatonic disorientation, a manic madness their young lives have never experienced.

 

The darkness envelops them but the light-shaft from a bright moon at their bedroom window portrays grievous images of two tiny huddled masses compacted in terror so visceral it might absorb them in a maelstrom of madness. The twisted sheets upon which they now lie entwined are wet with their bodies’ waste. The blankets they are seldom without in the night are damp with the wetness of their mucous and their tears. Their eyes are swollen from the crying, chafed and red with the steady rubbing. Their hands, their bodies tremble in the horror that has joined them in the bedroom.

 

With the world’s population living among those who cut-off heads of people who believe contrary to their so-called religion, with evil perversions of all kinds on our planet, perhaps there is nothing left that can now shock us. Perhaps my skin is too thin, but the factors of these homicides stunned me, and I needed to prowl my mind and soul to find my own truths about this father from hell…herein Daddy, No! they lie.

 

In any event this my nineteenth book, a novella of 36,000 words plus. It is my hope you will read its contents and leave an Amazon review.

 

You can Order Daddy, No! on Amazon when the review is over: Paperback or Kindle, or, both. Thank you. The book was just listed.

 

BR Chitwood – May 19, 2019

 

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DOMINIQUE – A New Book

A NEW BOOK! 

AGAIN!

Hell, the ink isn’t dry on the last one!

Are you some kind of nut?

Yeah, I just keep on keeping on!

Yep! That’s I – myself – me! Seems my writing chunk of brain still feels the need for the fingers to perform their tap-dancing on the keys, still thinking that maybe, just, maybe, this is the one that puts the hungry hillbilly out to pasture. Well, hope no one is waiting for me going out to pasture. Why? ‘Cause I still have ‘stuff’ to write, to get off my chest – mind, that is!

The reason I’m writing this post today is to introduce you to a fellow named Scott Mahlon who is a highly-intelligent man with a new job with Global Wizard Inc, and this handsome dude goes to this corp’s party function and falls in love with a most beautiful lady named, ‘Dominique’. Now, that’s right out of the chute!

Well, what happens next and on through this romantic thriller will knock your socks off, pardon the expression. It’s a book about the purity of love, about a ‘sex ring’ running loose in Texas, principally in the great metroplex of Dallas/Ft. Worth. No, that’s not the only thing running loose in Dallas/Ft. Worth…there’s a murder or two taking place as well…and, some doggone interesting characters the readers will love and/or hate.

Of course, I’m trying to get you revved up about ‘Dominique’. It’s a book that’s damned-well written – according to my own review, which I’m believing is fair and just. I’ll only say one last thing about the book, and it’s this: I had a lot of fun writing this ‘best seller’ (okay, a subliminal message can’t hurt!), and what I did was to blend several genres together to build this powerful mini-epic. It’s a book that will keep you turning pages, I’m betting the house on it! I’m hoping you will get on Amazon, KOBO, APPLE, TOLINO, and/or wherever you go to buy your books, and get your copy. 

I’m sure hoping I get some reviews with this ‘puppy’, so help an old fool dream a few years longer and buy the book. I guarantee your reading enjoyment will be worth the pennies you spend.

Just to tease you a bit, here are seven paragraphs only from the beginning chapter one of ‘Dominique’:

Chapter One

            The large gathering room was filled with people, and I was alone, feeling betrayed by my body language. Never good in large groups of people, a stimulant was needed to arouse my more amusing personality so I searched for the bar. It didn’t help my growing anxiety being a new hire and mixing for the first time with not only my Southwestern Regional Division but all the US regional divisions plus the International representatives.

            By way of company introduction, Global Wizard, Inc is an international corporation responsible for some of the more popular communication platforms in the world. It is a behemoth in the world of ‘chit-chat’, and major corporations’ playground for setting operational standards and at times arcane digital systems. There are some government leaders in the world that fear the reach and scope of Global Wizard, Inc and its already dominance in the fast-paced internet sphere of ideas and operating systems.

            I was not a ‘nerd’ in my kid-world by any mind-stretch, but the internet was definitely a fascination for me, and that led to my studies in higher education, ergo, preparing me for work in this far-reaching dynamic conglomerate.

            Six bars were operating, one for each horizontal corner and one on each side of the room. I started for the first bar on the left side of the entrance and managed to literally bump into a group of three men and one refined-looking lady I remembered meeting in my first interview with Global Wizard, Inc. Luckily, no drinks were spilled, and the lady smiled sweetly and gave me a quick read, determining with her astute powers of observation my muted buffoonery.

            “Ah, Scott Mahlon, don’t be uncomfortable…it is after all, very crowded in here. You met me as Agatha Lord, but you must promise to call me ‘Aggie’ as everyone else does.”

            Aggie introduced me to the gentlemen in the group, and I uttered simply, “I’m sorry for the bump. Please forgive my new man jitters. I must fight my way to the bar and have some few emboldened moments, Aggie. You sound as though you understand my awkwardness.”

            A few more taglines were enjoyed and they released me to the left corner bar. Twelve feet from the bar when the people seemed shorter than my six-feet height, I saw her, her golden tresses falling over her shoulders, her curvaceous body filling so nicely the glittering light blue evening gown. She turned and smiled just as I reached the bar, as though she somehow knew my eyes were locked onto her. Her glistening, perfect white teeth and sparkling green eyes held me momentarily hypnotized. She had to notice my bulging eyes and my hard swallow. She was the most beautiful creature my eyes ever beheld.

(Chapter One continues in the novel…)

Of course, I hope you like the cover as well as the written parts of the book.

The book, ‘Dominique’ will be published within a two-week period and will be available on Amazon only for $0.99 cents during the pre-pub period…which begins Monday, January 7, 2019.

Billy Ray Chitwood – January 6, 2019

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