Tony Perona Review of VIPER

As he did in BLEEDER, John Desjarlais takes a contemporary mystery and expertly intertwines a supernatural one. VIPER features Selena De La Cruz—insurance saleswoman, shoe fashionista and former Drug Enforcement agent—who is forced back into police work when a hit list is discovered and her name is on it. The nine people on the list have one thing in common—they all had a run-in with a drug dealer called the Serpent. As Selena and her colleagues try to track down the dwindling number of people on the list to stop the killings and learn who is behind them, they must deal with a young girl whose visions of a Virgin of Guadalupe-type apparition precede each death. Are the little girl’s messages of a veiled vengeance real? Are the apparitions somehow connected to the deaths, or is this event being used by the killer to cover each murder?

Desjarlais keeps you guessing as the action accelerates faster than De La Cruz’s souped-up vehicles. When Selena becomes the last woman standing, she must either figure out who is behind the killings or fall victim to La Serpiente. VIPER strikes fast and sinks its teeth in you. You won’t be able to put it down.

Tony Perona, author of "Second Advent" and "Angels Whisper"

Selena's Christmas

Hola, it’s me, Selena. Johnny’s busy grading Final Exams so he asked me if I’d guest-post something about Christmas this month. Apart from processing a few fender-benders with this week’s storm, it’s a slow season in the insurance office (people buy homes and cars in Spring), so I thought ‘Why not?’

The whole season was important in my familia: Advent, with the weekly lighting of Advent candles and the reciting of the Christmas story with each candle representing an angle – the angels, shepherds, Mary (the pink candle among the three purple ones), the Wise Men. Then there was the Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe on December 12, of course, with an evening Mass and music by Mariachis. Papá wanted very much for us to fit in while retaining our own tradiciones, so we had a Christmas tree with Mexican ornaments: hand-painted tin and blown glass (my favorite was a Sagrado Corazon with red and yellow flames on the top).

In the small-town (Anglo) neighborhood where I now live, the religious aspects are obviously played down. Front doors sport wreaths and Santa Claus cut-outs, while lawns display sleighs and reindeer or plastic snowmen. Someone on my street has a gaudy inflated penguin with a fan that makes it wave at passers-by. Everyone is celebrating “The Holidays” but no one seems to be celebrating “The Holy Days” that these truly are.

I haven’t even started decorating and I won’t until the novena begins before Nochebuena, Christmas Eve. Years ago, during the nine days of the posadas, my three brothers and I paraded through the neighborhood each night with all the other kids, in bright costumes, holding candles and singing Mexican carols accompanied by guitars. The songs are called villancicos in Spanish (pronounced vee-yan-see-kose), a mix of familiar songs in English, such as Noche de Paz (a Spanish version of Silent Night), and some are purely Mexican, like Las Campanas de Belen (The Bells of Bethlehem). In imitation of Joseph and Mary, we asked neighbors if we could stay. The first two always refused (by plan), and the third took us all inside where there was already a barn scene set up. Everyone prayed the rosary in Spanish, the Santa Marías rolling like soft waves. Afterward, we partied with piñatas, fritters and fresh fruit drinks like horchata, chía, and piña. One time my brother Lorenzo got into the men’s tequila supply somehow and spent the rest of the night kneeling in front of the toilet.

These days, I keep my décor simple. I put white candles in the windows and evergreen garland on the banisters. I add a few Nutcrackers among my santos y virgencitas figurines. Instead of a tree, I have a traditional Mexican Nativity Scene called a pesebre, with carved olive tree figures I bought from a Palestinian Christian group that visited our parish to support the very small (and poor) Catholic community there.

My familia had a large Nativity set in the living room and each person had a little crèche in his or her own room. Every year someone disappeared from the big set-up; if it wasn’t Saint Joseph, it was a shepherd or a magi. One year we couldn’t find the Baby Jesus to put in the manger on Christmas Eve. I cried because I thought there wouldn’t be a Christmas that year because of it. The Baby Jesus turned up in time, albeit with tiny bite marks from Mamí’s Chihuahua. This year, I’m still missing a magi from my own set, the one carrying the gold. Maybe I’ll find him, but I’m wondering who else will disappear?

On Christmas Eve, Nochebuena, we all gathered at my godmother’s place in Chicago. First, we attended Christmas midnight Mass, and then returned to my madrina’s place to chow down her famous bacalao a la vizcaina and romeritos in mole sauce. Christmas Day was quiet – board games, TV.

Family gifts weren’t given until Epiphany, Dia de los Santos Reyes Magos. But after dinner on Christmas Eve, the Baby Jesus, El Niño Dios, was placed in the manger and a small gift was given to us kids. We never did the Santa Claus thing. Papá would only go so far with acculturation.

Well, I’ll stop here. Feliz Navidad, everyone. And I bet Johnny lifts some of this for his next story. I’ll consider it my Christmas gift to him.

(photo above: me, in my Loyola days).

Selena's Thanksgiving

After Thanksgiving dinner, the men sprawled on the plastic-covered chairs in Comadre María’s living room swigging beers and yelling at fútbol on TV while the women chattered loudly over the stove and sink in the cocina. Handing each other plastic containers, they were putting away the leftovers of traditional American fare – turkey, celery and cornbread stuffing, mashed garlic potato, green bean casserole with onions, corn with red bell peppers, yams with marshmallow, and cranberry relish. Papá had always insisted that his children fit in and be acculturated, but not assimilated. Selena couldn’t help but smile at the fact that all the traditional “American” foods were indigenous to Mexico, except for the cranberry.
Lorenzo’s two kids pulled out a Serpientes y Escaleras board game on the parlor floor and argued about who should go first.
“Hey, none of that!” Lorenzo barked. “Los niños hablan cuando las gallinas mean.”
Selena and her brothers had heard it often: Children speak when hens pee. And everyone knows, pues claro, hens don’t pee.
“The chipotle and chive cornbread was yours, wasn’t it Selena, dear?” asked Auntie Big Hair, who was stuffed into a satin dress two sizes too small for her.
“Sí, that was mine,” Selena said. “New recipe.” She got it from Latina magazine.
“Delish-io-sho,” Auntie said, mouth full. She licked her fingers and glossy nails. “At last you are learning to cook. Why aren’t you cooking for a man yet? ¿Cuando te vas a casar? When are you going to settle down?”
“I’m trying to establish my business,” Selena said.
“What would your mother say?” Auntie Big Hair said. “Do you want to end up like la Cucarachita Martina?”
It was a familiar fairy tale – the little girl cockroach Martina finds a nickel and after much thought uses it to buy powder to look pretty and find a husband. She refuses the proposals of the dog, cat and rooster because they bark, hiss and crow “Aqui mando yo,” I give the orders here, when asked what they will do on their wedding night. Finally Perez the mouse wins her amor by his caring and gentle demeanor, because Latinas at heart desire a gentleman like that. But as Cucarachita Martina is making a stew for the wedding feast like a good wife and una buena mujer should, Perez gets impatient and while trying to taste it he falls in the pot and drowns. Lesson: el destino will take you away from the good man you hoped for and you’ll have to settle for a man driven by machismo.
Auntie Giggles bare-shouldered her way into the conversation, floral taffeta swishing. “What’s this I hear? Hee-hee! Selena is going to settle down? You found a man at last? ¡Que milagro!”
“It’s – it’s not like that,” Selena struggled.
“So there is someone,” Auntie Big Hair gushed. “Who is it? Tell me. Does he have a car as nice as yours?”
“I’m not seeing anyone right now,” Selena said, wishing that Reed, chivalrous, chisel-chinned and smart, were here to take the pressure off her.
Auntie Giggles pouted. ”¿Qué pasa? A curvy chica like you still sola?”
Selena firmed her lips. Every Latina knew that an unmarried and childless woman hasn’t lived up to the expectations of the familia.
“I guess I want Señor Right, not Señor Right Now,” she said. It was a ragged cliché, but it might stop the women’s badgering.
Her brother Lorenzo belched wetly and called out for more black bean dip. His wife Elena scooped some from a plastic bowl into a decorative dish.
“And another beer!” Francisco hollered. Then a player muffed a kick and both brothers stood with Uncle Hairy Nose and Uncle Baldy and three cousins to shake their fists and shout insults at the TV.
Elena grabbed four beer bottles from the fridge and closed the door with her knee.
“They’re big boys, Elena,” Selena said. “They can get their rumps up and get their own beers.”
“I’d answer for it later,” she said quietly. “Excuse me.”
“Hey, that’s not the one I want,” Lorenzo complained. “The Corona Light. And put a little wedge of lime in it, ok?”
Francisco shook the chip basket. “We need more chips, too. Those blue ones.”
Elena set down the dip. “Sure. Right away, mi vida.”
Selena crossed her arms. “My brother is a lazy slob,” she told Elena when she re-entered the kitchen. “You’re encouraging him. Make him get up now and then. Why serve him hand and foot?”
“Your Mamí did,” she said, brushing past her. “All Mexican mothers do. You know that. Or maybe not.”
Comadre María asked Selena to step aside so she could wipe the counter top.
“Oh, let me do it for you,” Selena offered, uneasy about Elena’s snippy remark.
“No, no. I’m fine,” Madrina said. “You relax and enjoy. There’s plenty left over. Take some home.” She squeezed Selena’s arm. “Still so skinny. Take it all home. If only you weren’t so far away. Why be so far away? You have to drive all that way in that old car. And it sounds worse than the last time you were here. Maybe you can have the mecánico de auto look at it before you leave.”
Selena smiled. How could she explain that it was supposed to be loud? “Madrina, it is best for everyone that I live where I am right now.”
“Your mother felt the same way as me. Why so far? Living alone in that big house? How can your brothers protect you when you are so far from the familia? We just want you to be safe.”
Lorenzo belched again and Francisco laughed like a burro. “It is best for all of us that I am far away,” Selena repeated.

(That's because she's on a drug dealer's hit list! VIPER is due for release March 25, 2011. Happy Thanksgiving, everybody!)

VIPER has ISBN, price, sort-of release date

Viper

John J. Desjarlais

ISBN: 978-1-933184-80-7

256 pages

5.5 x 8.5 trim

paperback

$14.95

Available Spring 2011 (I'm hoping by "Love Is Murder" in February)

first VIPER review

Viper
by John Desjarlais
Manchester: Sophia Institute Press, 2011

Reviewed by Patrice Fagnant-MacArthur
spiritualwomanthoughts.blogspot.com

In the book of Genesis, it is written “I will make you enemies of each other: You, serpent, and the woman. She will crush your head and you will strike at her heels.” (Genesis 3:15) That quote serves as the inspiration for John Desjarlais’ latest work of Catholic fiction, “Viper,” a compelling mystery that will keep readers in suspense.

Selena De La Cruz, a woman with a fondness for expensive footwear, is an insurance agent trying to forget her past as a drug enforcement agent. When her name shows up on a short list of people to be murdered, she is forced to face her demons – both literally and figuratively. Meanwhile, Jacinta, a young Latina, has been seeing visions in a cemetery of a “Blue Lady” many believe to be Our Lady of Guadalupe. “The Blue Lady calls for prayer and repentance, and then announces judgment upon those who are victimizing her children and bringing shame upon her people.” The individuals on the hit list have been killed one by one within forty-eight hours of when the visions occur.

A man known only as “The Snake” is the primary suspect. All of the targets, including Selena when she was working undercover, have had dealings with him. His calling card is the snake venom left in his victims.

“Viper” is rooted in Latin culture and religion. Selena is a woman trying to live in two worlds and not finding a home in either one. This is a classic who-done-it, but it is also a story of Selena’s evolution as a woman. Desjarlais has woven a highly-readable tale that mystery lovers or fans of Catholic fiction will greatly enjoy.

(photo: Selena checks a clue)

FREE copy of BLEEDER, VIPER for bloggers

If you are a blogger who writes book reviews, you can get a free copy of BLEEDER (and in January, VIPER) by filling out the form at this URL, below:
http://www.sophiainstitute.com/client/client_pages/bloggers.cfm

Final cover art for VIPER?

This might be the final cover art - or close to it. There's a blue aura behind Selena, the gun-hand is female (the other was a man's hand with the nails painted red) and the gun is different, and the serpent-smoke is lighter, more subtle. Now for the back cover, which will probably have a story tease and a blurb.