Thank you Karina, Crystal, Nicole, Jill, and Claudia for all of your support.
Thank you to all the ladies in my reader group Love N’ Roses. You gals are the bee’s knees and I can’t thank you enough for your support.
Thank you to all my author friends who have shown me love. I’m still in awe I even get to sit at the table with you because you’re all so talented.
A big Texas-sized thanks to all the readers who have read and loved my books. Without you, there is no me, and I’ll never forget that. You have my undying love and support. Always.
Besos/XOXO,
Rose
Rose Croft is a wannabe poet and a writer in her own mind. She’s a wife and mom to a beautiful daughter and lives her own happily ever after. For updates on her books or if you just want to visit and chat about anything and everything, visit her at:
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High School Lover
Baseball Lover
The Mendoza Family Series
Cabezón
Primitivo
Jugador
Boys in the Hill Series
My Roman
Dear Nicholas
Before you go...here’s an excerpt from Cabezón (The Mendoza Family, #1)…
Vicente Gabriel García Mendoza—El Salvador, Age 6
“Eres un regalo de Díos como tus hermanos y tu hermana, mi amor.” A gift from God. That’s what Vicente’s mami always said to the inquisitive six-year-old who wondered why he didn’t have a papá like his cousins, Adrian and Eduardo.
Vicente had always accepted that answer with a sort of reverence because if anything, his mother was the most devout Catholic he knew. Mami always said if you didn’t have faith in God, then you’re living a life without purpose. They went to mass whenever the doors were open. Each time she had told him about his spiritual birth, it made him feel special, like the angel Gabriel, who he was named after, personally delivered him down to Earth from heaven.
However, lately, his cousin, Adrian who was two years older than Vicente had been questioning Vicente about why he didn’t have a father. Vicente always answered vehemently that he was a gift from God, with so much conviction as though he thought his mother was as pure as la Virgen María. But, Vicente was starting to wonder whether his conception was really so immaculate.
Regardless, Mami was the hardest worker he knew, she worked from sun up to sun down selling fruits and vegetables on the streets of San Salvador. Sometimes she worked through the night, but the following morning after being gone, she always made sure she spent time with her four children—Vicente, age six, fraternal twins Emilio and Lilyana, ages five and Yovani, age three. Usually, they would have an elaborate breakfast, go shopping, and sometimes would take the bus to La Libertad the nearest beach from the city.
Vicente loved going to the beach; he was enchanted by the beautiful blue ocean, swimming, watching the surfers catch a wave, and especially getting a minuta (shaved flavored ice) from los minuteros, (vendors), that pushed their carts up and down the beach ringing las campanitas. To a child, the sound of tinkling bells was everything, and you came running when you heard it.
He reveled in the tropical smell, the peacefulness, and the togetherness he had with his family. But, most of all, he was drawn to the water, and Mami was the one who taught them all how to swim.
One day, Adrian’s father, announced he was taking his family to the United States because he had a friend who’d written him saying he was making good money—enough to support his wife and kids and give them a better education. Tío Hector wanted that for his family, too. He always bragged about how his sons would do great things in the future.
Everyone already knew Adrian was the “bright” one among the kids. When the boys played together, he was always the one who came up with elaborate ideas, a dreamer, while Vicente, although younger was more of a leader—putting the plan into action and Vicente’s brother Emilio, was the reckless one who was always impulsive and ready to do what anyone dared. The three of them were inseparable.
Vicente couldn’t fathom why his tío and tía would want to leave and take one of his closest friends, and first cousin Adrian away from him. Vicente didn’t understand that his family lived in one of the poorest neighborhoods in the city. He never complained or noticed half the time they had no electricity, sanitary water, and the bathroom situation was dire at best. He never wondered why nine people were living together in a one-room broken-down shack with a tin roof which served as their kitchen, living room, and bedrooms.
Vicente didn’t care that they were all packed together. Besides, he was outside half the time anyway, playing in the streets with Adrian and Emilio. Sometimes his sister, Lilyana, and brother Yovani would join them along with his little cousin Eduardo who was three. He never knew crime and violence in the city were increasing and people were getting brutally murdered. All he knew was he loved being outside, seeing all the excitement happening in the streets.
“No, no, no…no puedo ir contigo.” Vicente’s mom, Teresa, shook her head at her younger sister, Esmeralda, one day. Teresa’s belly was big and round as she was on the verge of reaching the end of her pregnancy. She was bloated and tired and didn’t want to risk the trip to the United States. Besides, she told her sister she was somewhat fearful Esmeralda’s husband Hector had put their lives in the hands of the coyotes. She was worried about their safety.
Vicente overheard this and found it funny and somewhat exciting that Adrian’s family would be traveling with a pack of coyotes—not understanding they were actually paid smugglers who took people to the US for a ridiculous amount of money and could be dangerous and ruthless. Nothing was a guarantee they would make it to the States. Teresa knew it all too well. Esmeralda assured her they would be fine. Given the opportunity, she would take her chances with the coyotes if they could make a better life for themselves. In their minds, it was only up from here. They hugged. Vicente was out the door before he heard his tía tell his mother she needed to stop selling her body and come with them to find legitimate work.
A few days later Adrian’s family was gone, making their trek north. Vicente was somewhat down, and the house seemed too quiet. Mami had just returned from another day of work, but she was moving around very slowly. Vicente was now in charge of watching his siblings knowing their older neighbor Guadalupe was always keeping a watchful eye on them.
“¿Mami, estás bien?” Vicente asked her if she was okay and put his hand on her back in a protective manner. Vicente took his job of the man of the house seriously, with honor.
“Sí, mi amor.” She nodded, and her smile seemed twisted as she fought the pain that radiated through her whole body and weakly ruffled her son’s hair. “Quiero descansar.” Vicente took his mother’s hand and led her over to the one sofa they had so she could rest. It was so old and worn the stuffing was popping out in several places, but by far the most comfortable spot to be in their place.