Books Set In New Mexico Novels & Stories

Chapter 128: Desert Night Night settled over the Iron Fang clubhouse in layers. The heat of the day had drained out of the lot slowly, leaving behind warm pavement, cooling engines, and the dry New Mexico air that seemed to carry every sound farther than it should. Somewhere inside the main hall, men laughed over old stories. Somewhere else, a bike was being tuned in a way that sounded almost tender. The whole place felt awake even after dark, like it had a pulse of its own.

Tenochtitlan is the only DUMB city that it has, and more people go through it in transit, between the much bigger and more important DUMB cities in South America, such as the ones under Lima or Buenos Aires or Rio de Janeiro and the DUMB cities of the United States, than actually go to do any kind of business in Tenochtitlan. With the rest of my time here on this particular train trip, I’ll try to wrap up for you, dear reader, how things turned out in Dust Bowl, Arizona, and how I wound up in the private, government deniable hospital from which I started these memoirs in the first place. When I last left off there with you, I was still with Field Team 42. We had just fought off a herd of zom

Then she remembered- while she was exploring her room, she had seen one of the cupboards that had books in it, and she went in search of one. She found a few titles and decided to stick to some historical romance she found, about the Comanche warriors and blood moons, Texans, war and the Prairie. It was just as she sat down that she heard Charity's familiar knocking pattern. Pulling open the door, she saw her friends and ushered them in.

Disclaimer This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents in this book are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events and places is purely coincidental. Emiliana

1 MARIANA I wiped my hands on my apron, glancing out the window of my little bookshop. The late afternoon sun bathed the streets of Mexico City in a warm, golden light, making everything seem peaceful. But peace felt far away from me these days. Lately, I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching me, lurking just out of sight. Maybe it was my imagination. My shop wasn’t exactly a bustling place—just a quiet corner where people occasionally wandered in looking for something old and forgotten.

When they ran towards the window to see what was going on, they met pitch darkness, which could obscure anyone's vision, even from seeing their own toes. "What do you think that was, Miss Milburn?" Patrilia asked, looking around him. "I don't know. It may be wild animals. Don't forget, we are not staying in some fucktown or rural house. "We are spending another night in this goddamn mountain, full of trees, wild animals, and beasts." She chuckled, going to her own room.

You'll be able to find me on various SM pl@forms so make sure you come check in on the latest :) I am currently working on more Mafia romances, a new series called The Notorious Five. If you haven't read this, you will want to as it is so much better than Cruz, darker and grittier. This is the series that has taken up most of my time and if you read the books, you will see why. They are constantly updated and the series is almost finished. If you find me on SM, you'll be able to find out where the works are :)

He laughed, that deep, dark sound rolling over her body helplessly. “Hell, yeah, sweet thing. I’ll come by any time I’m invited.” “Well, I hope you like sweet pink wine in the desert, querido.” He looked puzzled, his mostly-empty glass of whiskey held aloft in mid-sip. “The desert?” “Yep. I’m from New Mexico.” “No kidding?” he drawled. “We’re neighbours.” “We are?” she said, feeling a tiny stab of fear that somehow, by some completely freak and fucked-up twist of fate, he lived six blocks over from her childhood home or something. “Are you – you’re from New Mexico?”

It meant she had found something that held, a community or a routine or a work situation or simply a particular quality of light in a particular city that had made staying feel more right than leaving. Las Cruces was in the south of New Mexico, near the border, in the high desert. I had looked it up on my phone at four in the morning when sleep had fully abandoned me. A university city, moderate size, the kind of place that had its own specific character rather than being a smaller version of somewhere larger. Mountain light. Wide streets. The particular landscape of the American southwest that I had never seen in person.

Together, they left Texas behind and New York too. *** The new city they chose wasn’t flashy. No glass towers or mafia ties. No expensive lifestyle or restaurants. Just quiet streets, a little apartment with wide windows, and a view of a park where children laughed and played without fear. For the first time in years, Mia could breathe. No more looking over her shoulder. No more waking in the night to phantom footsteps. She wrote. She laughed. She lived.