Twelve-year-old Jorden Casillas doesn’t fit in, and not for the usual preteen reasons. Jorden is a nahual (nah-wahl), a serpentine shapeshifter from Mesoamerican mythos living in the secret monster society of Los Angeles. With uncanny strength and speed he hasn’t quite learned to control, he can’t blend in with the humans, nor is he truly a monster, leaving him caught between two worlds. When Jorden becomes the apprentice of Gaspar, an unscrupulous smuggler known as the wax man, he is tasked with stealing a necklace that turns out to be a powerful magical artifact. Suddenly, Jorden is pitted against every side, and finds himself at odds with one of the scariest monsters in his mythos. In order to stay alive, Jorden must find a way to bridge the gap between humans and monsters, though the feud runs deep.

Nothing, anymore. That’s what my first book, The Serpent’s Rise is building to. In my world, something bad happened across the many pantheons, and the structure that was supposed to keep gods, humans, and monsters in check has crumbled. The Cardinal Alliance is a dream that was shattered when the stars fell. As we explore the alliance and the four battalions that comprised it, we begin to see the far-reaching implications of an imperfect system. This is fundamentally a story about belonging and how to overcome divisions, especially when they’re deep, complicated, and intersectional.

At face value, the Underside and The Cardinal Alliance are two opposing forces. Jorden Casillas - being a little too human for the monsters and a little too monster for the humans - has to build a bridge between them. The fate of magic itself rests in his - very recently clawed - hands.

In full transparency, I am not Mesoamerican. I am, however, an art and research historian with a fascination in all things mythology. My series is about mythology from around the world and is not limited to Mesoamerican myths, but the first book centers Jorden’s lived experience. I didn’t want a tokenized main character, so I decided that if I was going to write about myths from a culture outside of my own, I was going to do it all the way. I’ve spent months diving into folk legends, discourse around those tales, and the real-life implications for the communities that I’ve been writing about. I’ve also brought a cultural editor on board to vet the story and ensure I’ve hit the mark. Long story short, I think it’s cool and I wanted to do it right.

Un poco. Por un tiempo, hablé Español todos los dias por me trabajo. Yo comprende mas de mi hablo por que no practico con los personas en mi viva. Quiero aprendio y practico mas.