Embedded in the fabric of my being is a story that I need to tell.

My heart feels what my characters feel: their joys and their losses. My body feels the physical pain they experience. I perceive the smells from the kitchen, the textures of the fabrics, the temperature of the city, the sound of passing horses.

I have been to that park, to that church, to that house, to that plantation. I’ve been in that town, in that train, in that cenote, in that city. I visited all of them in the first years of my life.

I owe everything to my grandmother Rita Beatriz Bibiana Duarte Novelo de Arjona, who over the course of many years told me these stories in minute detail from her sickbed.

Thought this blog, I will share one hundred key pieces of the story: The Divine Caste.