La Mamácita Mafiosa by Celina Thompson
Just before el Día de los Muertos, Graciela’s toxic ex-boyfriend returns to their tiny hometown in South Texas after years away in the big city. As La Jefa de Las Consucencias, she must determine if he has reformed his brutal ways or needs to mysteriously disappear to protect her loved ones. Calling in a hit is not something Gracie takes lightly. She gives her ex chance after chance to redeem himself. But, he hasn’t changed for the better. He’s gotten worse. Gracie’s ex was the beginning of her trauma. She spent years reclaiming her power by embracing her sexuality and utilizing it as a secret weapon to protect others from suffering a similar fate. Ultimately, she decides to bring peace of mind to her friends by handling him herself. With the assistance of her primary lover, Graciela finds creative methods to move on. But the trauma he inflicted lingers, threatening her self-control. Brash actions could land her back in jail, jeopardize her current romantic relationships, or worse—cost the lives of those she’s sworn to protect.
Excerpt from the Book
Graciela found her sanctuary on two wheels in the heart of South Texas under the shade of swaying palms and the setting sun. Her aubergine motorcycle carried her along a familiar path. It roared beneath her like a lion and pulsed with her veins, making them one living unit. She leaned into a curve, and the machine responded with a fluid grace that made her feel invincible. It was a delicate dance between woman and machine. The scent of sun-baked earth mingled with the freshness of the palm trees, a heady perfume that filled her lungs and soothed her senses—the smell of home.
Palm trees flanked the road like soldiers forming an Arch of Sabers. Gracie’s mind flashed to her wedding day, walking through it with her ex-husband. But she quickly shoved the memory aside to focus on the winding road. The wind whipped past her, rustling the palm leaves overhead. The trees seemed to whisper secrets from faraway lands. The South Texas sun was about to set, casting everything into shadow. The palms cast a pattern on the road before her that looked like distorted blinds from a noir film.
Sweat slicked her back under her leather jacket, but the wind whipping past her was a cool, refreshing relief from the scorching Texas heat. It was October, but the temperature rose above ninety degrees every week along the border. Today was one of those days. Handling the Dante situation had been difficult due to the unrelenting heat.
But the primal hum of her bike banished every worry and concern temporarily. Gracie was so thankful Luz taught her to ride when they got out. On this lengthy ribbon of gravel, she found a serenity that had eluded her since she’d been served papers by her ex-husband years ago. The freedom of the ride quieted the incessant chatter in her mind: her regrets, the empty void left in her soul because she hadn’t fully grieved, the constant need to protect others from enduring anything like she had, and the determination to atone for her past. Each mile devoured was a testament to her liberation—both in life and from the chaos of her own mind.
With every turn, a flicker of fear breached the edges of her consciousness. The slightest miscalculation could send her skidding into oblivion. It was a fear she welcomed and embraced—frequently hoped for—because death meant being reunited with her daughter. Riding was a dance with danger, dangling the promise of an end to her misery.
Each twist and turn was a little victory. Not only did it declare her command over the machine, but also her fate. Riding served as a reminder that she had the power to make things better for herself and everyone else. With its sparkly purple gleam, the bike was not just her transportation. It was an extension of her will—a means for her to channel her yearning for freedom from the darkness of this world.
As she rode, her worries faded away. They were replaced by the singular focus needed to navigate the gravel roads at death-defying speeds. Riding was a balm to her broken soul, each moment an affirmation of her strength and resilience. The journey’s fear, excitement, and sheer joy blended into the intoxicating thrill that made her feel alive again.
Ironic, considering she was headed to the cemetery. Before she was imprisoned, it was a place she only visited reluctantly. Now, it was her sanctuary. Here, among the faded tombstones and silent witnesses, Graciela found some semblance of peace.
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