Welcome to Cecilia Samartin`s Website!
Here you will find the latest news on Cecilia, quotes and interviews, some commentary and of course book & tour information – Cecilia will be posting regularly – so come back often!.
Mofongo
Sebastian dreams of running like the wind across the soccer field and scoring countless goals, but his heart defect forces him to stand on the sidelines and watch. His parents overprotect him, but they’re unable to shield him from their family problems or the bullies at school. Fortunately, Sebastian finds sanctuary in his grandmother’s kitchen. Working side by side, preparing exotic dishes from her homeland of Puerto Rico, they discover a new purpose that brings them healing and hope. A story for the entire family, “Mofongo” is about creating heaven on earth, and learning how to listen with your heart. Readers will come away with a renewed appreciation for life and the delicious realization that a meal prepared with love not only feeds the body, it nurtures the soul..
Vigil
As Ana sits at her husband’s deathbed, she thinks back the incredible journey of her life. Ana’s story takes her from war-torn El Salvador to a convent in the United States and finally to a wealthy California estate where she is employed as the nanny for the Trellises, a dysfunctional family caught up in the throes of a decadent life. Despite her own emotional wounds, she is able to bring love and healing to her affluent yet…
Broken Paradise
I was born in Havana, Cuba and left with my parents after the revolution when I was still an infant. Naturally, I have no real memories of my country, but over the years I’ve listened to a myriad of stories. The air that I breathed was infused with nostalgia so that, although I grew up in a typical American community, the feeling of Cuba, that sense of lost enchantment, became a very real part of me.
Tarnished Beauty
When I was a teenager, I traveled with my family to the land where my grandparents were born in Spain, and it was there that I first saw the pilgrims of Santiago de Compostella. I couldn’t imagine what so many people from all over the world were doing along the roads of northern Spain, laden down with backpacks, and carrying long walking sticks that were often adorned with a solitary scallop shell.