Mexican Novels & Stories

Texas borders Mexico and so, he planned to find a way to smuggle himself into Mexico after arriving in Texas. Finley had been selling people for many years and he had a strong network of connections in Canada, the United States, and Mexico. Now, he did not dare to return to Canada and he could no longer stay in the United States. Thus, his only option was to go to Mexico first.

Isabella Mexico City "Straighten your back," I mentally ordered myself. "Smile," I put on the best smile I could for my interviewers. I had applied for a work visa in the city of Toronto, and I was jumping with joy as I would be leaving my country in search of better economic opportunities. It's not that I didn't like Mexico, but my dream had always been to settle in Canada and explore every corner of that beautiful country. "Your application is impressive, Miss..." one of the men in suits began speaking through the laptop screen, "... Sánchez. Isabella Elizabeth Sánchez Figueroa..." He furrowed his brow. "Am I pronouncing it correctly?" I nodded slowly.

Or so they thought. I swallowed hard and spoke in Spanish, my voice shaking. “Oye… eres mexicano, ¿verdad? Por favor, no nos hagas daño.” The man turned, surprised after hearing me speak. “Half,” he replied. “Mexican-American.” “So am I,” I said, my heart hammering painfully in my chest. “Please let us go. I swear I can pay you more as long as you release us—” “Doesn’t matter, señora. Our loyalty stays with whoever pays first.” He cut me off with a dry chuckle. “Don’t worry, beautiful. I’ve only been told to kill one person.”

“Tell me you have good news.” He chuckled lightly before his tone shifted. “We’ve been tracking Lax. Got close.” My jaw tightened. “How did the mission go?” He paused. “We made some noise. Put on a little fireworks show… just the way you like it.” I exhaled sharply. “And?” “We’ve got the Mexican, thanks to our Mexican ally.” he continued. “Just like my text said. He’s not talking yet, but he will.” “Make sure he does,” I said coldly.

When am with my family it's when am truly happy. " Don, came by," says my beta, pouring himself a glass of vodka, He hands it to me but I shake my head and get up to put my baby girl on the sofa to rest there. I kiss her forehead before going back to my desk. " Mario is the governor of Mexico," I sigh, Justin takes a seat in front of me, crossing his legs. " I know, he is now one of the most powerful men there," I still want my retribution for all he did to Aviana, I refuse to let it go. I've destroyed most of his buildings, canceled his businesses all over the world, and put a stain on his reputation, but he still managed to win the election.

“But I can’t. The boys. They keep nagging me. Night and day. They keep telling me what I can and can’t do. I’m not a child. I don’t want to move into an old folks’ home or a nursing home, but the boys won’t stop.” On their first trip to Mexico, they saw the catacombs. They stayed in Mexico City on November 2nd because Maria wanted to see the Day of the Dead up close. They watched parades with hundreds of people dressed as the Coqueta Catrina and the Elegant Catrin, wearing exquisite

“Your papa give dinero. Lucky you. He pay today and we send you home. Comprende?” Jon just nodded. His throat was parched and raw. He was afraid speaking would hurt. “You should say thank you to us for treetin’ you so good, sí?” A trickle of blood slid out of the talking Mexican’s nose. The others laughed arrogantly at his words, once they had been translated. Blood then started to run out of another’s nose, then another, then another, till they were all bleeding.

three days pass Lola hasn't still pulled through her coma state. "¿Quién es esta mujer a la que trajiste medio muerto de Texas? se ve rico Miguel, ¿cómo es que casi fue asesinada? preguntó el médico local en español. - " who is this woman you brought half dead from Texas? she looks rich Miguel, how come she was almost murdered? the local doctor asked in Spanish"

As she begins her umpteenth trip from one side of the room to the other, I pull on my magic and fan my fingers out causing her feet to get stuck to the marble floor of the hallway. “¡No mames!” She exclaims nearly toppling forward and assessing her feet. She looks up at me and narrows her eyes then proceeds to throw some very colourful Mexican swear words at me, some I can’t even translate. Something about a donkey? I’ll have to get a translation on that later.

his voice was low and lethal. A man muttered in Spanish across the table. “Speak something we all understand, Caribbean,” another sneered. The first man’s chair scraped against the floor as he leaned forward. “My roots are Mexican, not Caribbean,” he growled. “And you don’t earn the right to hear me.”