Books by Marcos

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The Romilia Chacón Thrillers:

home killings

Home Killings

The first of the Romilia Chacón novels, set in Nashville, Tennessee, when the young, Latina detective must solve her first case–a serial killer on a rampage. One problem: She’s got a sexy, dark drug runner named Tekún Umán, who is in love with her.




Years previous, Romilia’s big sister was murdered by a man who believes he is Minos, the judge of sins, from Dante’s Inferno. He disappeared; he’s back. As is Tekúm Umán.


venom beneath the skin

A Venom Beneath the Skin

This one is the romantic car-chase thriller, when Romilia reluctantly joins up with Tekúm Umán to hunt down the man who killed her partner.


blood daughters

Blood Daughters

The darkest of the Romilia Chacón novels: she enters into the horrid world of the child sex slave industry in Los Angeles.





The Holy Spirit of My Uncle’s Cojones

In this comedy novel (slightly autobiographical), Tony McCaugh Villalobos, a Salvadoran-Appalachian suicidal teenager, goes to San Francisco, where he meets up with his wild-ass, weed-smoking/selling mujeriego (womanizer) Uncle Jack who, in getting Tony into trouble with drug sellers, wakes the boy up to his Salvadoran culture.

fire in the earth

A Fire in The Earth

My first novel, based in the history of the massacre of 1932, when the Salvadoran dictator murdered 25,000 Salvadorans in the first two months of that year.



They say

They Say That I Am Two

I wrote these poems in my twenties. They chart the ongoing search of a young man trying to figure out what it means to be from two cultures.



Tuesday homeless

On Tuesday, When the Homeless Disappeared

Written in my thirties, these poems explore what it means to live in the U.S. after so many years working in Central America. From the violence of death squads to raising children, the poems reveal a more inward search, of being Latino in Gringolandia.




Walking to La Milpa

I wrote these essays while living in Guatemala, during the height of the violence. Death squads, poverty, unnamed babies who die before they reach their first birthday; and the Mayan people who, in the midst of all the suffering, not only survive, but live and celebrate and yes, dance.