Browsing All Posts filed under »Fiction«

Then the Soldiers Came

June 6, 2016


“We were going to be there—hundreds of us, maybe even a thousand, from all over the Mixteca. I went, la vieja—my wife and the children no. We were on a bus and just past Nochixtlàn soldiers stopped us—hundreds of them, armed. They made us get off the bus—a revision—they said. Then they said we were […]


February 23, 2016


Published in Dual Coast Review, February 2016, a shortstory in the mode of Mexican leyendas populares.   Robert Joe Stout Curled like a stray cat in the sand around the fire’s dead ashes Pedro Cesar twitched and grunted, simultaneously trying to emerge from the dream and sink into it, deeply, forgetfully, forever. Or was it […]

What Readers Say

November 9, 2015


about WHERE GRINGOS DON’T BELONG: I really enjoyed your book which I downloaded from amazon. The characters and events stuck with me for days…of course it took me days to read it because I am a slow reader and read only when I get into bed at night and then fall asleep in mid-sentence. But […]

It Was the Government!

August 8, 2015


Great play has been given to assassinations and lethal confrontations among competing drug cartels in Mexico but among the most the notorious killings are those perpetrated by Mexico’s federal and state governments, sometimes in collusion with criminal organizations. Increased citizen disapproval of police and military involvement in killings and disappearances has triggered greater repression. Only […]

Where Gringos Don’t Belong

July 28, 2015


“Not right away, Jorge. Listen to me. Give her three days—three days at least if she doesn‟t call you. She‟s been through Hell—worse than Hell, she isn‟t herself, it‟s going to take time—a long time. All of them coming out—the women, that is—they‟re in shambles. You talked to Lucía, you heard. Help Pati, don‟t push […]

Where Gringos Don’t Belong (Excerpt)

June 2, 2015


As María Sal draped one of the shawls over her shoulder Claudi announced, “Okay, cabroncito, your turn,” and pushed towards George the last two unwrapped gifts visible on the table. “Híjole!” he gasped, colors swirling in front of him. Slowly he turned the bright imagist acrylic-on-silk painting for the others to see. It was signed […]

Where Gringos Don’t Belong (excerpt)

May 20, 2015


The woman at the end of the table jerked her head towards the lawyers as though she’d just been slapped. Slightly built, sharp featured, intense, she’d worked for a travel agency in the Centro Historico that George noticed hadn’t reopened since the Night of Horror. “Authorities? Yes. Several of us tried to dodge around the […]