Time to sink intoAmerican Dirt.
And back in 2018, it sparked a nine-house, seven-figure auction, ultimately won by Flatiron Books.
This level of hype, in other words, is pretty rare.
Credit: Joe Kennedy
EW has an exclusive first-look at the book, in the form of a cover and excerpt reveal.
But first, the books synopsis: Lydia Quixano Perez lives in the Mexican city of Acapulco.
She runs a bookstore.
Flatiron Books
Even though she knows theyll never sell, Lydia stocks some of her all-time favorite books in her store.
When Lydias husbands tell-all profile of Javier is published, none of their lives will ever be the same.
But what exactly are they running to?
Check out EWs exclusive preview ofAmerican Dirtbelow.
The novel publishes Jan. 21, 2020, and isavailable for pre-order.
But the wash of bullets that follows is loud, booming, and thudding,clack-clackingwith helicopter speed.
Mijo, ven, she says, so quietly that Luca doesnt hear her.
Her hands are not gentle; she propels him toward the shower.
He trips on the raised tile step and falls forward onto his hands.
Mami lands on top of him and his teeth pierce his lip in the tumble.
One dark droplet makes a tiny circle of red against the bright green shower tile.
Mami shoves Luca into the corner.
Theres no door on this shower, no curtain.
Its only a corner of hisabuelas bathroom, with a third tiled wall built to suggest a stall.
Lucas back is wedged, his small shoulders touching both walls.
His knees are drawn up to his chin, and Mami is clinched around him like a tortoiseshell.
Hed like to wriggle out and tip that door lightly with his finger.
Hed like to swing it shut.
He doesnt know that his mother left it open on purpose.
That a closed door only invites closer scrutiny.
The clatter of gunfire outside continues, joined by an odor of charcoal and burning meat.
Papi is grilling carne asada out there and Lucas favorite chicken drumsticks.
He likes them only a tiny bit blackened, the crispy tang of the skins.
His mother pulls her head up long enough to look him in the eye.
She puts her hands on both sides of his face and tries to cover his ears.
Outside, the gunfire slows.
Someone shoots the radio, and then theres laughter.
Two or three, Luca cant tell.
Hard bootsteps on Abuelas patio.
One of the voices is just outside the window.
What about the kid?
Mira, theres a boy here.
Lucas cousin, Adrian.
Hes wearing cleats and his Hernandez jersey.
Adrian can jugglea balon de futbolon his knees forty- seven times without dropping it.
Looks the right age.
Man, this looks good.
You want some chicken?
Lucas head is beneath hismamis chin, her body knotted tightly around him.
Forget the chicken,pendejo.
Lucasmamirocks in her squatting position, pushing Luca even harder into the tiled wall.
She squeezes against him, and together they hear the squeak and bang of the back door.
Footsteps in the kitchen.
The intermittent rattle of bullets in the house.
Luca feels her breath snag in her chest.
The house is quiet now.
The hallway that ends at the door of this bathroom is carpeted.
There must be three of them because Luca can still hear two voices in the yard.
Luca does not breathe.
Mami does not breathe.
The man hiccups, flushes, washes his hands.
He dries them on Abuelas good yellow towel, the one she puts out only for parties.
They dont move after the man leaves.
Even after they hear the squeak and bang, once more, of the kitchen door.
Luca concentrates on breathing, in and out, without sound.
He always awakens, heart pounding, and finds himself flooded with relief.It was just a dream.
Because these are the modern bogeymen of urban Mexico.
These kids, rich, poor, middle class, have all seen bodies in the streets.
But that truth does nothing to soften its arrival.
Theres a blessing in the moments after terror and before confirmation.
For a moment he enjoys the ragged passage of breath through his chest.
He places his palms flat to feel the cool press of tiles beneath his skin.
Its weird to see her good church shoes in the shower.
Luca touches the cut on his lip.
The blood has dried there, but he scratches it with his teeth, and it opens again.
He understands that, were this a dream, he would not taste blood.
At length, Mami stands.
Stay here, she instructs him in a whisper.
Dont move until I come back for you.
Dont make a sound, you understand?
Luca lunges for her hand.
Mami, dont go.
Mijo, I will be right back, okay?
Mami pries Lucas fingers from her hand.
Dont move, she says again.
His whole family out there, in Abuelas backyard.
Today is Saturday, April 7, his cousin Yenifersquinceanera, her fifteenth birthday party.
Shes wearing a long white dress.
Before Luca had to pee, he and Adrian had been kicking thebalonaround with their otherprimos.
The mothers had been sitting around the table at the patio, their icedpalomassweating on their napkins.
She had a way of smiling when she criticized.
But Mami was always on Lucas side.
She rolled her eyes and pushed her chair back from the table anyway, ignoring her mothers disapproval.
When was thatten minutes ago?
Luca feels unmoored from the boundaries of time that have always existed.
A solitary gasp, too windy to be called a sob.
Then a quickening of sound as she crosses the patio with purpose, depresses the keys on her phone.
