Sneak Peek! – Beyond the Gardens – Sandra López

SandraLopez We have a special treat for all you book lovers out there! Sandra López, the author of Beyond the Gardens, the continuation of Esperanza: A Latina Story, generously provided her first chapter to us to share with all of you!

López was voted in 2011 as one of Top Ten Latino Authors to watch.

Synopsis: At the age of 18, Esperanza Ignacio begins her college years at an upscale Los Angeles art school, where she studies to fulfill her long-term dream in Animation. But she soon learns the truth to the old folktale: “you can take the girl out of the barrio, but you can’t take the barrio out of the girl.” Even though she’s getting financial aid, Esperanza works a part-time job during her break from classes just to make ends meet. Her roommate, Anna, is what she calls a “chicana from Beverly Hills” because of the rich daddy and the new car she got for her quinceañera.

Things get a little confusing for Esperanza when an old friend comes looking for her, hoping to start a meaningful relationship. But is Carlos the right guy for her? She never even considered him to be anything more than a friend since high school. Then comes Jake, a gorgeous mechanic, who shares her passion for books and loves her for who she is. What’s a girl to do?

Strength and determination help pave the way for the future. And, as she approaches her graduation, she is faced with a difficult decision: should she leave Los Angeles and leave behind her family, her home, and everything she’s known? Ever since she was born in the California barrio of Hawaiian Gardens, she’s always had to look over the fence, wondering what she’s been missing. Now she’s taking a flying leap over to see what’s beyond the little barrio. What’s beyond her family, her friends, and her past? What’s beyond the little nothing town, where dreams don’t exist? What’s beyond The Gardens? Is it life, love, a future? The story of Esperanza is finally concluded in this wildly entertaining and heart-warming sequel.

Chapter 1:

As the evening sun was settling over the small hills,

I steadily hiked along the concrete path that led into

the center of the campus quad. I hung to the strap of my

book bag with a light wind sweeping through the air, then

walked past the student store and the food court. The garlic

aroma of chicken chimichangas was overwhelming and

floated around seamlessly. My god, did it smell good. I

almost wished I had five bucks to waste.

Instead, I ignored the aching grumble in my stomach

and moved on.

The dorms were located on the outskirts of the school

next to a highway that was often busy at this time of day.

When I reached Da Vinci Hall, I passed along a few students

bundled in a corner with large pads sketching the scattered

trees on the forefront of the breaking dawn. I had missed the

elevator going up just as the doors were closing. Damn.

Exasperated, I punched in the button for the next one.

But the wait was so long I decided to just forget it and

took the stairs instead.

Crossing down the hallway, I fumbled inside the withered

pocket of my jacket for the keys. I unlocked the door and

then stepped into a tiny cubicle, where I hit my knee passing

by the end table. At that point, I couldn’t decide whether the

furniture was moving closer or the room was just shrinking.

I limped across the room and dropped my bag on

a nearby chair. Then I took off my cap and tossed it

aside. Oh, what a day, I thought while my fingers stroked

through the thick strands of my dark hair. I couldn’t believe

I stayed up half the night to study for a quiz the

teacher decided not to have after all. What a shame. I was

really looking forward to it, too.

After spotting my bed just a few feet away, I fell on

top of it landing on a soft pillow that cradled my head.

Humble sighs trickled through as the evening sun cast a

mild afterglow through the shiny window, shadowing the

room with a tinted orange. I yawned while the soothing

warmth poured across my tanned face. Then I closed my

eyes as a tranquil slumber soon began to take its course.

Suddenly, the door quickly slammed open, and I instantly

bolted upright.

“Hey, good news you lucky people, I’m here!”

“Jesus Christ!” I yelled, responding to the triumphant

arrival of my roommate, Anna.

She looked at me with cavalier naïveté. “Oh, were you

sleeping?”

“No, I wasn’t,” I answered. “I was just trying to, that’s

all.”

“Well, as long as you weren’t sleeping.” Casually humming,

she sauntered back into the hall and returned with

several large shopping bags. Most of them looked like

they weighed more than she did.

“Been to the mall, lately?” I asked.

“Just for the last half hour.”

“And that’s all you got?”

“Well, I couldn’t really get much because I had to come

back for a class.”

“Oh, of course.”

I watched as Anna closed the door behind her so she

could peek at the mirror nailed in the back. She twirled

around a few times, checking out all the angles of herself.

Then she fluffed her short, reddish-brown hair, which was

decorated with bright, silver streaks. Under closer inspection,

she turned from side to side and caressed the light,

delicate skin on her face. She checked out everything from

the straight arches in her eye brows to the rich, glossy

color of her lips. Oh, brother, I thought as I reclined back

into position.

There was just no doubt about it. Anna Zapata was

the “Chicana from Beverly Hills.” She, technically, came

from Orange County, but she was possessed by someone

in Beverly Hills. Note: Anytime you see the word “hills”

in a city name, you just know it’s a fancy, ritzy area packed

with people, who just have too much money. For example,

Anaheim Hills, Woodland Hills, Chino Hills, Beverly Hills.

Need I say more?

“Do you think I need to add another streak?” Anna

asked suddenly.

“Another streak?”

“Yeah, right here near my bangs.”

“Well, I don’t know,” I answered. “I think you wouldn’t

look any different.”

“Would you get up and look,” she insisted.

“Why, I can remember what you look like.”

“Will you just look.”

“Okay, fine,” I said with a roll of my eyes.

With a discouraging grunt, I hoisted myself up and

leaned on the tips of my elbows. I cocked my head in her

direction, straining to give her a glance. My face crinkled

in confusion as I attempted to drum up an opinion.

“Well?” she persisted.

“Well, uh—”

“Be honest.”

“Honestly……you’d look the same.”

“Oh, no I wouldn’t.”

“Yes, you would.”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

“Yes, you would.”

“Oh, what do you know?”

I collapsed back on the bed with a loud murmur under

my breath.

“Can’t you see that one streak will add balance to my

bone structure?”

“No, I clearly don’t see that,” I said.

“Obviously.” She looked back at the mirror. “Maybe I

should just start all over with a brand new color. What do

you think about that?”

“Why don’t you just go back with the color God gave

you?” I asked.

“Well, that kinda presents a problem,” she said. “See, I

sorta forgot my original hair color.”

“Are you serious?”

“Nope, I’ve been dyeing my hair for years, and it just

sorta slipped my mind.”

“Well, why don’t you ask your mom then?”

“Are you kidding?” she responded. “Who do you think

taught me how to dye my hair? My mother couldn’t find

her own roots if she was digging for gold.”

“Okay, point well taken,” I mentioned. At least now I

knew where her obsession with hair started from.

“Ya know, I think I will add that extra streak,” she

said.

“Whatever you say.”

“And while I’m at the salon, I’ll get a manicure, pedicure,

and a facial,” she added. “I’ll just beautify all this

even more.”

“Are you sure you’re Mexican?” I asked once again.

“For the last time, I am Mexican,” she replied in defiance.

“Yo sé hablar español y todo. I just don’t listen to Spanish

music or eat spicy foods. Why, don’t I sound Mexican?”

“Nope.”

“I resent that,” she said. “I would stay and fight

you on that, but I gotta go get my facial, manicure, and

pedicure.”

“So, back to the mall you go?”

“That’s right,” she said. “Oh, and while I’m there, I

might as well get that cashmere blouse I was thinking

about buying but didn’t. See ya.”

With giddy excitement, Anna glided out of the room.

Finally! Now where was I? Oh, yeah, I was trying to

relax.

I lied there and closed my eyes, gradually reacquainting

myself with the peaceful and quiet sounds around me.

At some point, I actually wondered whether or not I went

deaf. But I didn’t. There was absolutely no noise. Wow,

this was nothing like home back in the barrio, I thought.

Back home I had the raucous sounds of police helicopters

flying overhead to lull me to sleep. But not here.

Sounds of the barrio didn’t exist. I haven’t heard screeching

tires against the harsh gravel of the streets, or the sounds

of drunken cholos clashing with shattered beer bottles. Up

until now I figured I’d be stuck with those noises for the

rest of my life. It was amazing. I mean, I’ve heard about

lawns being greener on the other side of the fence; but it’s

another thing to actually sink your feet into that beautiful

grass and wiggle your toes in it. Could I really have done

it? I wondered. Could I have gotten myself away from

the other side and made it all the way here—at the Atkins

Art Institute, the place I’ve been working so hard to get

to ever since I saw Bugs Bunny as a kid? Could this be a

dream? Yes, it was a dream—it was a dream come true!

After conquering the world of high school as a kid

and cherishing the last few moments of summer with

the people who meant the most to me, I can now say

that I had finally made it. I did it! I was here, standing in

the middle of a whole new adventure, ready to begin the

grand odyssey of college life, ready to discover the answer

to the question that’s been nagging me for years: What’s

beyond The Gardens?

Ever since I was born in the small town of Hawaiian

Gardens—a California barrio that a lot of the locals referred

to as The Gardens— my life always had barbed

wire around it, and I just couldn’t get through. I was

caged like a raggedy, flea-infested dog, always snuggled in

a dirty corner while surrounded by the foul stench of that

filthy pound. I would look at the world through steel bars,

wondering what it would be like to be on the other side.

Was there some other life beyond those gates? Was there

something better over that fence? I never knew; I’ve always

just wondered. And I kept on wondering even when we

moved to East L.A., where I was only transferred from a

smaller cage to a bigger one—my curiosities still the same

though. I knew I was going to die if I stayed right where

I was. I knew it was never going to get any better unless I

got out. Well, now, I was a dog that had gone free. I finally

escaped my cell. I have passed the gates of limitations,

running every step of the way, ready to discover what I

have been missing all my life. I was now going to see this

new world through fascinated eyes and finally mark my

territory wherever I go. What changes await me? What

will I find? Who will I meet? How will the next chapters

of my life going to end this time? Or were they going to

end at all? Maybe my ending will turn out to be a brand

new beginning. I couldn’t wait to find out!

To read the full story of Beyond the Gardens by Sandra López, copies are available here:

Amazon

Barnes & Noble

For more information, visit the author’s website or connect with her on Facebook.

 

The Girl Behind the Book:

Lopez2Born and raised in Hawaiian Gardens, CA, Sandra C. López is one of today’s influential Latina authors in Young Adult literature. Her first novel, Esperanza: A Latina Story, was published in March 2008 WHILE she was still in college. Shortly after that, she wrote the follow up title, Beyond the Gardens, starring her inspirational heroine. Now, this young writer is a full graduate of Cal State University Fullerton with a BFA in the arts. She was named as one of “2011 Top Ten New Latino Authors to Watch” by Latino Stories.

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