I find myself in a precarious position. I’m not too sure how to answer the question, Who am I? I suppose, like most, that I am but a compilation of my experiences. That being said, in order to introduce myself to all you blokes, birds and intelligent apes, I’ll give a fractured account of my storied life.

I am a native son of Cuba, born in 1961, of a womb shadowed by the threat of nuclear annihilation and nourished on the bosom of blue bloods made impoverished by Communism.

I’m an expat who landed on the shores of Miami to be spared the battlefields of Angola by a father willing to sacrifice everything to release me from the shackles of an oppressive regime.

Though my accomplishments have been many, I found my life unfulfilled. Little did I know that when I looked at the face of Mohamed Atta, days before 9/11 that my life would be so drastically changed.

It wasn’t till recently when I read the article written in The New York Times, back in 2001, City Under the Microscope that my decision to become a writer was affirmed.

My first novel “Pieces of Ten” chronicles the life of an expat, Juan, who rose-up from the embers of poverty to live the American Dream, but when the financial uncertainty that followed 9/11 led to the collapse of the economy, he sought to make ends-meet by gambling in the sordid underbelly of society.

That life introduced him to a rogue’s gallery, of the worst of societies ills and when beaten and robbed he adopted the dark nature inherent in all men. With his soul mate, Serena by his side he developed an expanded consciousness and followed the path of a treasured lineage. He was never meant to embrace mediocrity.

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