My book has launched on as both an e-book and a paperback.

I wasn’t like everyone else. I was the Black kid, the Latin kid, the kinda White kid. More times than not, the nigger kid. The poor kid, the parent-less kid, the family-less kid. The one with no home, no place to go. The dumb one. The kid who couldn’t read too well or too fast, who couldn’t put two words together without stuttering. I struggled with school, with my apparent “otherness”—all the time trying to figure out why people thought of me the way they did. The Black kids didn’t think I was Black enough, the White kids thought I was surely not White enough, and the Spanish kids talked too fast and knew too much Spanishy things for me to always understand. Now, I don’t remember much of my childhood, but amongst all the chatter in my head there was always a calmness, maybe a clarity, when I heard my mother’s voice. No matter how confused, scared, or engrossed in thought I may be, watching my mother, being near her, hearing her words, gave me comfort, a quiet strength that would follow me for years to come.


Canela is a gripping work about the early life of a young girl who survives the tough challenges of growing up on the streets of Boston.  It’s a story about the power of connecting with each other, the impact we have, and how the people we meet can change who we are, and where we may go.