The Odor of Orchids

When is a love story not a romance?
When the lives of strangers collide, as they do on a steam-hot August weekend.
Don Burbage, the good-looking sheriff deeply in love with his wife Peggy, wrestles with what commitment means as he works out a bloody event that happened in cabin six at the Buena Vista Motel.
Lyla, young, trapped in her youth and body, has to face what her youth and body have wrought upon her.
And enter the stranger, a photojournalist passing through in his big blue Pontiac convertible. He has just left the carnival of a Republican convention, heading to the same unrealities of the Democratic, when he stops for a walk in the woods.
He does not come out of them the same.
None of them do.
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This is a character-driven novel that is also a thrill ride of events. As one reviewer put it:
"Charles W. Bechtel stitches together each distinctive character of 'The Odor of Orchids' like a well made signature quilt. He placed each character only as a master quilter can do to compliment the following chapters. He easily keeps us contained and spellbound in the array of his passionate players.
You literally feel this book come to life briskly, an unrelenting candid write that takes one by surprise time after time. As you hold the book, you become the characters so completely, whether you wish it or not . Soon it becomes a need: this page, then page after page, hit after hit."

My books are my signature. But this is only how I feel. Others often differ in opinion, which is right and good. For them, here then, be some stuff maybe useful in some fashion I can't fathom.
Biographical data
Born: Spring Lake, North Carolina, April, 1953, fourth day, five minutes past midnight (thus late for my parents' anniversary, which sets a standard for all such events from then on.)
Educated: a long while back, when colleges offered to improve human beings attending their classes, not dedicate themselves to the function of making a person employable. Ahh, the good old days.
Undergraduate degree: In English from a State college in Glassboro, NJ, that changed its name to Rowan University when Mr. Rowan gave it a huge wad of cash.
Master degree: In English from Temple University in 1996, which is where I got to learn exactly what I needed to know from David H. Bradley, the author of a fine book, "The Chaneysville Incident" *among others) which I recommend reading. Otherwise, graduate school for writers is a waste of time and money.
Marriage: I married to the finest woman on Earth, by accounts of many others more than myself: Manuela.
I married once before, but for practice. It lasted a mere sixteen months.
Manuela brought with her two wonderful young ladies, Elizabeth (Baby Beth) and Manuela (Meme), who each in turn delivered into my life young ladies of inestimable worth: Sky (b. 2003) Lucy (b. 2007) and Mia (b. 2008.) Though I give to each huge chunks of my heart, doing so has increased that heart's size.
Work History: Let's say I worked, and have enjoyed no occupation more than Educator. My students put their trust in me; I put my faith in them. Pretty much always works out.
What I do for fun: Everything. If it is not fun, I quickly stop doing it. (see Work, above)
Writing Philosophy: Make sense by appealing to the senses.