I forgot to mention, the 1967 Mustang plays a big role in this novel. It’s practically another character.
It’s the summer of 1978, a few months after Tony cut his wrist. The whole family knows about it, but, unlike other families who try to avoid such difficulties and pretend nothing’s wrong, the women of the Villalobos family decide the best thing for little, suicidal Tony to do is hang out with The Great Macho, Uncle Jack. The moment Jack puts Tony in that Mustang, well, the shit hits the fan. But, in a good way. Know what I mean?
Sometimes, for us to survive, the shit must hit the fan.
You can find “The Holy Spirit of My Uncle’s Cojones” at Amazon.