Never knew what it was in life that I really wanted to do...guess that had something to do with my Appalachian roots in East Tennessee, a broken family, and so much mobility. Saw a lot of cowboy movies as a kid and thought about acting for awhile. Loved to sing and thought about being a singer. Being an actor or a singer meant there would be audiences, and I was a bashful boy who wasn't too comfortable in crowds. Wanted to be a fireman. Wanted to be a cop. A professional golfer. A tennis pro. The 'want list' just kept changing.
You likely know where I'm going with this opening bio brevity. My dreams were fleeting because I was a fickle fellow whose roots never got too deep anywhere, any time. So. when those East Tennessee hills were behind me and that big adult world opened up to me, well, it kind of overwhelmed me. There were so many Appalachian and bible belt emotions conflicting inside of me that made me easy and ready to make a lot of mistakes. Make them, surely did, too many to enumerate, and my guess is I've been blaming old Appalachia, the hills of East Tennessee, the broken family, the mobility, all the emotions laid upon me, for this rather wanderlust life that I've been having. Guess I've always been chasing that something that was missing in those long ago days.
Now, don't get me wrong. With the mistakes, which you can read about later, there were successes and honorable service to my country in the US Navy. The successes, in my way of thinking, were: a college BA degree with a major in English; high school teaching; sales and marketing management positions with some of our top educational publishers; my own business; and, after several attempts, a wonderful wife and nuclear family. The most exhilirating success has been my writing: nine books, with the tenth in the oven. The writing has allowed me to purposefully wander through some simple plot lines and characters' lives to explore my own dimensions, to discover some things about myself I had never really considered. Up front, I'll state too brashly for some, my books are good, well written, and easy to read. Sure, the critics, even I, will still find the occasional errata that most writers disdain. There is nothing, however, that has given me more pleasure than turning a phrase that says everything I want it to say, to re-read a passage that brings back some emotional echoes.
So, you have a short bio glimpse of Billy Ray Chitwood, an Appalachian kid who ate some emotional soup and spent a lifetime trying to digest it. For another sketch, please go to http://about.me/brchitwood and http://goo.gl/fuxUA Are Billy Ray's books worthy of a read? My vote doesn't count. Only you can tell me with any certainty... On to the books. ---- SCROLL DOWN THIS PAGE TO SEE MY NINE BOOKS ----
You likely know where I'm going with this opening bio brevity. My dreams were fleeting because I was a fickle fellow whose roots never got too deep anywhere, any time. So. when those East Tennessee hills were behind me and that big adult world opened up to me, well, it kind of overwhelmed me. There were so many Appalachian and bible belt emotions conflicting inside of me that made me easy and ready to make a lot of mistakes. Make them, surely did, too many to enumerate, and my guess is I've been blaming old Appalachia, the hills of East Tennessee, the broken family, the mobility, all the emotions laid upon me, for this rather wanderlust life that I've been having. Guess I've always been chasing that something that was missing in those long ago days.
Now, don't get me wrong. With the mistakes, which you can read about later, there were successes and honorable service to my country in the US Navy. The successes, in my way of thinking, were: a college BA degree with a major in English; high school teaching; sales and marketing management positions with some of our top educational publishers; my own business; and, after several attempts, a wonderful wife and nuclear family. The most exhilirating success has been my writing: nine books, with the tenth in the oven. The writing has allowed me to purposefully wander through some simple plot lines and characters' lives to explore my own dimensions, to discover some things about myself I had never really considered. Up front, I'll state too brashly for some, my books are good, well written, and easy to read. Sure, the critics, even I, will still find the occasional errata that most writers disdain. There is nothing, however, that has given me more pleasure than turning a phrase that says everything I want it to say, to re-read a passage that brings back some emotional echoes.
So, you have a short bio glimpse of Billy Ray Chitwood, an Appalachian kid who ate some emotional soup and spent a lifetime trying to digest it. For another sketch, please go to http://about.me/brchitwood and http://goo.gl/fuxUA Are Billy Ray's books worthy of a read? My vote doesn't count. Only you can tell me with any certainty... On to the books. ---- SCROLL DOWN THIS PAGE TO SEE MY NINE BOOKS ----
Short description of: "What Happens Next? A Life's True Tale" --- JUST PUBLISHED September, 2012.
A non-fictional memoir that covers the author's time in East Tennessee and his whirlwind education in the big world of neon lights, gin mills, pretty ladies, acting, television, stage, film, and the ultimate allignment with his faith.
It is also a book that takes a remarkably honest look at some mistakes and triumphs. It is a story that has depth beneath the glitter of shiny piano bars and lovely women, beneath a family disconnect and sorrowful musings.
The book reveals the author's relationships in his life, the lamenting moments of despair and loneliness, the never-ending search for meaning, his faith, and the brutal assessments of who he really is. It has the family disconnect, even murder and suicide, and there is always a candor that is both refreshing and shocking in its self-analyses.
Each person's life is made up of all the debris of memory, the bad and the good, but it must also be made up of some elements within the mind and soul that determines how we handle those memories, how we deal with the aspects of everyday living, the long tunnels of thought that lead us to decisions that predispose the events that will ultimately shape our being.
This book goes through those tunnels of thought, and the reader can render her/his own unique judgement.
In the end, it is likely a bio not so different from everyman... just changes in circumstance and event.
A non-fictional memoir that covers the author's time in East Tennessee and his whirlwind education in the big world of neon lights, gin mills, pretty ladies, acting, television, stage, film, and the ultimate allignment with his faith.
It is also a book that takes a remarkably honest look at some mistakes and triumphs. It is a story that has depth beneath the glitter of shiny piano bars and lovely women, beneath a family disconnect and sorrowful musings.
The book reveals the author's relationships in his life, the lamenting moments of despair and loneliness, the never-ending search for meaning, his faith, and the brutal assessments of who he really is. It has the family disconnect, even murder and suicide, and there is always a candor that is both refreshing and shocking in its self-analyses.
Each person's life is made up of all the debris of memory, the bad and the good, but it must also be made up of some elements within the mind and soul that determines how we handle those memories, how we deal with the aspects of everyday living, the long tunnels of thought that lead us to decisions that predispose the events that will ultimately shape our being.
This book goes through those tunnels of thought, and the reader can render her/his own unique judgement.
In the end, it is likely a bio not so different from everyman... just changes in circumstance and event.
"The Cracked Mirror - Reflections of an Appalachian Son" is about a Tennessee boy who ate some emotional soup and spent a lifetime trying to digest it. It is the story of a young man leaving east Tennessee and going in search of himself,
unprepared for the adult world he is about to enter. Behind him, and, within him, is the emotional debris of his childhood: abuse, broken family, and a substantial part of his soul. Searching for his identity in 'isms' and bars, he
stumbles, gets up, only to find in the end that legacy and meaning are elusive, a 'white buffalo' always somewhere in the shadows.
"The Cracked Mirror - Reflections of an Appalachian Son" is largely a true story of the author's own life, a mirror of his past, cracked with the stress of all his memories: a family broken apart by their Appalachian circumstances and the
'great depression;' a childhood tainted by a father's abusive nature; an impetuous marriage and a sorrowful divorce; a subsequent search of 'isms,' for love and meaning in California and Arizona gin mills; a tableau of horrible events, including a senseless family murder, suicide, and a desert survival.
"The Cracked Mirror - Reflections of an Appalachian Son," is the story of fictional Prentice Paul Hiller, his life, his heritage, his mistakes, the events that have come to shape him, and the demons within that he cannot dispel. Along the way, he gives his passionate and provocative views on criminal justice, love, politics, religion, war, and his favorite writers. In the end he finds a new love, some hope for redemption, some semblance of meaning and legacy.
The author's own family roots trace back to the eleventh century in Chetwode, a lovely hamlet north of London
unprepared for the adult world he is about to enter. Behind him, and, within him, is the emotional debris of his childhood: abuse, broken family, and a substantial part of his soul. Searching for his identity in 'isms' and bars, he
stumbles, gets up, only to find in the end that legacy and meaning are elusive, a 'white buffalo' always somewhere in the shadows.
"The Cracked Mirror - Reflections of an Appalachian Son" is largely a true story of the author's own life, a mirror of his past, cracked with the stress of all his memories: a family broken apart by their Appalachian circumstances and the
'great depression;' a childhood tainted by a father's abusive nature; an impetuous marriage and a sorrowful divorce; a subsequent search of 'isms,' for love and meaning in California and Arizona gin mills; a tableau of horrible events, including a senseless family murder, suicide, and a desert survival.
"The Cracked Mirror - Reflections of an Appalachian Son," is the story of fictional Prentice Paul Hiller, his life, his heritage, his mistakes, the events that have come to shape him, and the demons within that he cannot dispel. Along the way, he gives his passionate and provocative views on criminal justice, love, politics, religion, war, and his favorite writers. In the end he finds a new love, some hope for redemption, some semblance of meaning and legacy.
The author's own family roots trace back to the eleventh century in Chetwode, a lovely hamlet north of London
EXCERPT FROM THE PROLOGUE:
“Help me! Please help me!”
It is a piteous whimper, lost in the black void of the narrow closet. The weak and eerie sound of her own voice chills her more fiercely than the cold. The thought brings an aberrant amusement. Her own small voice frightens her!
A sound! A creaking sound. Far off. A footfall! Is it? No. It is not a footfall. It's just one of the strange noises that comes in the night.
Is it night?
Time is lost. Time is gone from her world like a chunk of youth. The black hole draws her toward an uncertain vortex. She must close her eyes. But, not so tightly... With eyes open, the blackness comes alive with trickery...
---
Inspired by a California newspaper account some years ago, this novel has truth along with the author's story line. It is dark and ugly, like the black closet used for punishment by a malevolent mother whose heart and mind can only know evil. It is poignant and sad in the penning, to know that such cruelty and debasement can exist in one family.
From the black closet to fiery murder in the high Sierras, this shocking tale will scar the soul.
“Help me! Please help me!”
It is a piteous whimper, lost in the black void of the narrow closet. The weak and eerie sound of her own voice chills her more fiercely than the cold. The thought brings an aberrant amusement. Her own small voice frightens her!
A sound! A creaking sound. Far off. A footfall! Is it? No. It is not a footfall. It's just one of the strange noises that comes in the night.
Is it night?
Time is lost. Time is gone from her world like a chunk of youth. The black hole draws her toward an uncertain vortex. She must close her eyes. But, not so tightly... With eyes open, the blackness comes alive with trickery...
---
Inspired by a California newspaper account some years ago, this novel has truth along with the author's story line. It is dark and ugly, like the black closet used for punishment by a malevolent mother whose heart and mind can only know evil. It is poignant and sad in the penning, to know that such cruelty and debasement can exist in one family.
From the black closet to fiery murder in the high Sierras, this shocking tale will scar the soul.
A lightning strike brings two people together to fall in love. Jason Prince and Jenny Mason know their hearts are in tune, but fate has always a card to play in the game of romance. This titillating love story provides some dips along the road: a brother's deception, a gambling habit gone too far, and a grandmother's painful secret. It will take a death, a matriarch's great will, an Arizona dust storm, and a long wandering desert rebirth to bring the love story to its 'old fashioned' happy ending. Treat yourself to a poignant and uplifting heart warmer.
(A FEW LINES FROM CHAPTER ONE) - The hard ground was cold. She began to shiver, felt the urge to rise, but was somehow constricted. Her mind made some adjustments and she suddenly knew where she was, how she had gotten there.
Finally, she slowly opened her eyes with a fluttery acceptance of her immediate environment. A man’s face came into focus, hovering two feet above her own. She felt pinned down and quickly discovered that the man was astride her. There was a momentary sense of panic but something about the man’s face made her relax.
A light rain fell, and she was conscious of wet hair matted to her face and forehead. The sky was a dull gray, and skinny treetops came to her peripherally as some surreal apparitions. The man’s concerned face gave her a final focus. She remembered what had happened.
The lightning! She recalled an awful clap of thunder, so jarring and harsh, so totally upon her, instantaneously enveloping her in its loud and splintered brightness.
(A FEW LINES FROM CHAPTER ONE) - The hard ground was cold. She began to shiver, felt the urge to rise, but was somehow constricted. Her mind made some adjustments and she suddenly knew where she was, how she had gotten there.
Finally, she slowly opened her eyes with a fluttery acceptance of her immediate environment. A man’s face came into focus, hovering two feet above her own. She felt pinned down and quickly discovered that the man was astride her. There was a momentary sense of panic but something about the man’s face made her relax.
A light rain fell, and she was conscious of wet hair matted to her face and forehead. The sky was a dull gray, and skinny treetops came to her peripherally as some surreal apparitions. The man’s concerned face gave her a final focus. She remembered what had happened.
The lightning! She recalled an awful clap of thunder, so jarring and harsh, so totally upon her, instantaneously enveloping her in its loud and splintered brightness.
AN ARIZONA TRAGEDY - A BAILEY CRANE MYSTERY (Book 1)
Meet Bailey Crane, a transplanted son of the south with Cherokee blood and some emotional baggage. Bailey is an auxiliary detective, has a manufacturing rep business that brings in easy money, and he's a part-time actor. Bailey's got golf, love, money, friends, and a great life style. He has an amusing personality. He's a rowdy good looking rogue who wears his feelings in his eyes and on his lips, not at all reluctant to share his world.
A lovely young model and mother is brutally murdered in the Arizona desert northeast of Phoenix. The lady was Bailey's friend and her homicide begins an adventure for our sleuth that will take him down the halls of our nation's capital where he will discover that fact and fiction are strange bedfellows. Chased by an unknown stalker with a gun, Bailey is a marked man. Wounded, his body battered and bruised, his anger pushes him onward until the puzzle pieces begin to form a picture. The exciting climax has a unique twist, and our musing son of the south does not quite know it but the ending is also a beginning.
The book was inspired by the actual murder many years ago of the author's friend and fellow actor.
It should be noted that the 'Bailey Crane Mystery Series' of five books can be read independently and out of sequence. There is, however, throughout the succeeding books an evolution to the Bailey Crane character, the changes in his life, both romantically and otherwise.
SATAN'S SONG - A BAILEY CRANE MYSTERY (Book 2)
A young woman is murdered in a most gruesome way. The authorities have no viable leads. Bailey Crane is sought out by the victim's desperate mother who must know the awful truth of her daughter's death, who must come to some gauzy closure. Homicides of young women in other states arouse Bailey's interest and provide a trail that will lead him to physical and psychological challenges that shake and rearrange his relatively sane world. The bizarre ending comes in a small mountain town in Colorado. Our always musing southern sleuth will find a very personal and sacred part of his life coming to it's own end point. There is emotional pain and there is a new beginning for our endearing Tennessee Sherlock with the Cherokee blood.
(EXCERPT FROM THE PROLOGUE)...
It appeared she had the bike path all to herself. She relaxed. She sat and pedaled easily. Occasionally she just coasted. She was almost back to 19th Avenue. There was approximately one quarter mile left. She had covered nearly four miles in very fast time, and she was coming to the final turn before she hit a straightaway to 19th Avenue. She was just coming parallel on her right with a long row of eucalyptus trees. She heard again the sounds of the lake off to her left and the steady shriek of crickets.
She saw a black blur of movement about fifty yards ahead. Someone was standing next to a tall palm tree, or leaning against it. It appeared to be someone in bulky clothes, someone wearing a large overcoat. That someone was stepping out onto the path in front of her
A young woman is murdered in a most gruesome way. The authorities have no viable leads. Bailey Crane is sought out by the victim's desperate mother who must know the awful truth of her daughter's death, who must come to some gauzy closure. Homicides of young women in other states arouse Bailey's interest and provide a trail that will lead him to physical and psychological challenges that shake and rearrange his relatively sane world. The bizarre ending comes in a small mountain town in Colorado. Our always musing southern sleuth will find a very personal and sacred part of his life coming to it's own end point. There is emotional pain and there is a new beginning for our endearing Tennessee Sherlock with the Cherokee blood.
(EXCERPT FROM THE PROLOGUE)...
It appeared she had the bike path all to herself. She relaxed. She sat and pedaled easily. Occasionally she just coasted. She was almost back to 19th Avenue. There was approximately one quarter mile left. She had covered nearly four miles in very fast time, and she was coming to the final turn before she hit a straightaway to 19th Avenue. She was just coming parallel on her right with a long row of eucalyptus trees. She heard again the sounds of the lake off to her left and the steady shriek of crickets.
She saw a black blur of movement about fifty yards ahead. Someone was standing next to a tall palm tree, or leaning against it. It appeared to be someone in bulky clothes, someone wearing a large overcoat. That someone was stepping out onto the path in front of her
THE BRUTUS GATE - A BAILEY CRANE MYSTERY (Book 3)
This tale begins with a raging warehouse fire that nearly consumes our southern sleuth with the Cherokee blood. A suspect arrested in connection to the fire is overheard muttering a cryptic phrase, 'beware The Brutus Gate.' The fire and the phrase is the start point of this story about drugs, murder, rape, and political corruption at government's elite levels. Bailey Crane and his Phoenix PD buddies have a chuckle about the pithy 'Brutus Gate' remark and the adventure begins. Our Sherlock hero gets bounced around by the criminal elements and by his own personal demons of guilt and remorse --- all standard fare for the Tennessee man of endless mind queries about his emotions and the state of his life. The action is keen, and the climax comes at an old ranch on the Mexican border just south of Yuma, Arizona. This is likely a romp you don't want to miss.
(A FEW LINES FROM CHAPTER ONE)... Just when you think you've got all systems going in harmonious sync, that's the time old Chicken Little's doomsday utterance settles a might too snugly into the conscience: The sky is falling!
Well, my sky was falling, literally, inexorably, and with undue haste! Not to mix metaphors, but the falling sky was becoming a raging hell!
The very large warehouse roof was collapsing bit by fiery bit, and the bad guys were winning.
The bad guys were also getting away..
This tale begins with a raging warehouse fire that nearly consumes our southern sleuth with the Cherokee blood. A suspect arrested in connection to the fire is overheard muttering a cryptic phrase, 'beware The Brutus Gate.' The fire and the phrase is the start point of this story about drugs, murder, rape, and political corruption at government's elite levels. Bailey Crane and his Phoenix PD buddies have a chuckle about the pithy 'Brutus Gate' remark and the adventure begins. Our Sherlock hero gets bounced around by the criminal elements and by his own personal demons of guilt and remorse --- all standard fare for the Tennessee man of endless mind queries about his emotions and the state of his life. The action is keen, and the climax comes at an old ranch on the Mexican border just south of Yuma, Arizona. This is likely a romp you don't want to miss.
(A FEW LINES FROM CHAPTER ONE)... Just when you think you've got all systems going in harmonious sync, that's the time old Chicken Little's doomsday utterance settles a might too snugly into the conscience: The sky is falling!
Well, my sky was falling, literally, inexorably, and with undue haste! Not to mix metaphors, but the falling sky was becoming a raging hell!
The very large warehouse roof was collapsing bit by fiery bit, and the bad guys were winning.
The bad guys were also getting away..
A MURDER IN PUEBLO DEL MAR - A BAILEY CRANE MYSTERY (Book 4)
An Arizona wife and mother is murdered while on holiday in Mexico, and her three children find her brutally beaten and slashed body. Bailey Crane, an auxiliary member of the Phoenix PD is visiting close friends in Pueblo del Mar, and is asked by the local police chief to assist him in building his case against the transsexual lover of the victim's husband. Bailey's Cherokee blood comes to an emotional boil when family and friends get caught up in the web of corruption, drugs and sex. The highly intense climax comes in a 'Whale Shack' on the scrub brush and sand near the Sea of Cortez. This tale has the always soulful musings of our southern Sherlock, a chance encounter with a mysterious mystic who shares his thoughts on Time and Place and fragile nerves that get edgy and frayed. This tale was inspired by an actual murder some years ago, and you don't want to miss it.
(HERE ARE A FEW LINES FROM THE PROLOGUE)...
Although he had an ominous expectation of what he would find, he could not have prepared himself for the scene in front of him, six feet from the door.
Bob Geraint tightly closed his eyes but he could still see the woman sprawled sideways across the king size bed, deep bloody indentations along her hairline, her right hand palm upward as though pitifully pleading for a mercy denied her. The left arm and hand, at an odd limp angle, rested on a naked breast. The chest was punctured savagely, oozing the dark red viscid juices that had been her life...
An Arizona wife and mother is murdered while on holiday in Mexico, and her three children find her brutally beaten and slashed body. Bailey Crane, an auxiliary member of the Phoenix PD is visiting close friends in Pueblo del Mar, and is asked by the local police chief to assist him in building his case against the transsexual lover of the victim's husband. Bailey's Cherokee blood comes to an emotional boil when family and friends get caught up in the web of corruption, drugs and sex. The highly intense climax comes in a 'Whale Shack' on the scrub brush and sand near the Sea of Cortez. This tale has the always soulful musings of our southern Sherlock, a chance encounter with a mysterious mystic who shares his thoughts on Time and Place and fragile nerves that get edgy and frayed. This tale was inspired by an actual murder some years ago, and you don't want to miss it.
(HERE ARE A FEW LINES FROM THE PROLOGUE)...
Although he had an ominous expectation of what he would find, he could not have prepared himself for the scene in front of him, six feet from the door.
Bob Geraint tightly closed his eyes but he could still see the woman sprawled sideways across the king size bed, deep bloody indentations along her hairline, her right hand palm upward as though pitifully pleading for a mercy denied her. The left arm and hand, at an odd limp angle, rested on a naked breast. The chest was punctured savagely, oozing the dark red viscid juices that had been her life...
A SOUL DEFILED - A BAILEY CRANE MYSTERY (Book 5)
Bailey Crane is thinking long term fun and sun on the Sea of Cortez, but an old friend and HOA president puts those thoughts on hold by enlisting our southern sleuth to help solve a case of missing money and murder. Bailey is kidnapped twice, beaten twice, and his anger management is nowhere to be found. With the help of Pueblo del Mar's police chief, another old friend, Bailey begins to connect the dots. He meets a most unusual man of intrigue, discovers the intricasies of money laundering in the posh resort communities along the sea, and makes it through to a most bizarre ending. The climax of this mystery leaves Bailey emotionally drained as he contemplates the true essence of friendship and life's strange twists of fate. It's all here: disloyalty, greed, love, money manipulation, murder. All the action takes place along a most lovely stretch of cobalt sea and an unrelenting desert of cacti, sage, and sand.
(A FEW LINES FROM THE PROLOGUE)...
When he fell to the sand on his knees Fernando Cervantes thought for a brief moment he had gone down from a sharp chest cramp. His unsold serapes were involuntarily flung outward onto the beach. He felt liquid flowing through his fingers, saw the liquid when he pulled his hand from his left rib cage. He saw that it was his blood. As he collapsed on his side in the sand, his life presented itself to him in a few gasping breaths. As he slowly rolled onto his back, his half-closed eyes looked upward toward a diminishing blue sky. There was so much he wanted to tell Father Umberto, so much he yet wished to share with his family, but all he could weakly mutter in his last moment was, “Mi Dios, por favor me perdona para he pecado!" Clusters of sea gulls gathered near the lifeless body of Fernando Cervantes, indifferent, unimpeded in their ageless habits.
Bailey Crane is thinking long term fun and sun on the Sea of Cortez, but an old friend and HOA president puts those thoughts on hold by enlisting our southern sleuth to help solve a case of missing money and murder. Bailey is kidnapped twice, beaten twice, and his anger management is nowhere to be found. With the help of Pueblo del Mar's police chief, another old friend, Bailey begins to connect the dots. He meets a most unusual man of intrigue, discovers the intricasies of money laundering in the posh resort communities along the sea, and makes it through to a most bizarre ending. The climax of this mystery leaves Bailey emotionally drained as he contemplates the true essence of friendship and life's strange twists of fate. It's all here: disloyalty, greed, love, money manipulation, murder. All the action takes place along a most lovely stretch of cobalt sea and an unrelenting desert of cacti, sage, and sand.
(A FEW LINES FROM THE PROLOGUE)...
When he fell to the sand on his knees Fernando Cervantes thought for a brief moment he had gone down from a sharp chest cramp. His unsold serapes were involuntarily flung outward onto the beach. He felt liquid flowing through his fingers, saw the liquid when he pulled his hand from his left rib cage. He saw that it was his blood. As he collapsed on his side in the sand, his life presented itself to him in a few gasping breaths. As he slowly rolled onto his back, his half-closed eyes looked upward toward a diminishing blue sky. There was so much he wanted to tell Father Umberto, so much he yet wished to share with his family, but all he could weakly mutter in his last moment was, “Mi Dios, por favor me perdona para he pecado!" Clusters of sea gulls gathered near the lifeless body of Fernando Cervantes, indifferent, unimpeded in their ageless habits.
