Spotlight on Des Zamorano’s new novel, “Human Cargo”

Lucky Bat Books has recently published Des Zamorano's mystery novel, Human Cargo. In it, Zamorano introduces Inez Leon, a private eye with an attitude and who, as the author puts it, “lives for truth, justice and the Mexican-American way.”

In Human Cargo, Inez gains access to Pasadena's Russian community in order to find a missing family. She uncovers a culture of underground nightclubs and virtual slavery, as well the high price of a passage into this country. Jerrilyn Farmer, author of the best selling Madeline Bean mysteries, says:

"Exquisite in every subtle detail, Des Zamorano's new literary mystery Human Cargo introduces PI Inez Leon, the most compelling new detective in years. Once you meet the articulate and penetratingly clear-eyed Inez, you will not be able to put this book down."

Des Zamorano, is a Pushcart Prize nominee, and her plays have had equity productions through the Bilingual Foundation for the Arts in Los Angeles. She attended St. John's College in Santa Fe, New Mexico, and received her BA from the University of California at Irvine. Zamorano obtained her multiple-subject teaching credential from Point Loma Nazarene University, and her MA in Multicultural Education from California State University, Dominguez Hills. She runs the Occidental College Community Literacy Center similar to Dave Eggers's Valencia 826.

And a little treat for La Bloga readers, Des Zamorano offers us the first page of Human Cargo:

CHAPTER ONE

Never live in a home so removed, so remote, that the neighbors can't hear you scream.

That was the mistake made by the Tates, the LaBiancas, and possibly by Roland Hutchinson, a Forbes 400 member. That thought kept looping through my head, as I eyed this crowd. Moneyed, educated, multihued, a Cal Tech event at the home of a benefactor that my on-again lover Wallace had dragged me to, where stiff-necked white-jacketed servers passed through with platters of small bites, carefully enunciating each syllable to describe the mouthfuls of morsels.

“Sopresata with fig and quince paste.”

It looked like jam on pepperoni to me. I demurred.

“Bufala mozzarella with anise basil on heirloom sun-dried tomatoes.”

“How old are those tomatoes?” I asked. I passed. I was annoyed. I could have been at my krav maga workout, practicing my elbow thrusts, my footwork, and finding those painful pressure points on my assailant. Instead I was here, in a dress borrowed from my sister, cunningly pinned at the bust, waist, and hips. I had applied eyeliner and mascara, at the risk of poking out my eyeballs. I had completed this mid-winter ensemble with strappy little sandals which hurt my toes and sunk deep into the rye grass as I crossed the lawn toward the closest of five outdoor bars.

[For more on Human Cargo, visit the author's website.]