The Aztec

 

By Kristy McCaffrey

The Aztec of Mexico are sometimes grouped with the Mayan and the Inca, but they were separate groups. The Mayan were the oldest, with a history beginning around 2000 BC.  The Aztec lived in the 13^th and 14^th centuries in central Mexico, while the Inca also shared this timeframe but were in South America. All three fell to Spanish conquistadors in the 1500’s.

The Aztec founded a settlement called Tenochtitlan in 1325, and initially it was controlled by the Tepanec people. In 1428, the Aztec formed an alliance with two other cities and formed the Aztec Triple Alliance and were able to gain control of their region.

A ceramic sculpture representing Mictlantecuhtli,
the God of Death of the Aztecs.

The Aztec practiced bloodletting (offering one’s own blood) and human sacrifice as part of their religious practices. It’s believed the violence of the Spanish conquest against the Aztec was due in part to the Conquistadors disgust over these rituals.

The Spanish arrived in 1519, led by Hernán Cortés, and he allied with city-states opposed to the Aztec. That same year, Tenochtitlan fell and the Spanish founded Mexico City on the Aztec city’s ruins.

At its height, Aztec culture had rich and complex philosophical, mythological, and religious traditions, along with impressive artistic and architectural accomplishments.

Montezuma, the ninth Aztec Emperor of Mexico.

The legend of Emperor Montezuma’s gold claims that around 1520 the Aztec moved a vast fortune of 3,000 pounds of gold bars and other artifacts into the American Southwest to keep it out of the hands of the Spanish Conquistadors. Modern-day treasure hunters continue to search for it in Utah, Nevada, and New Mexico.

In my upcoming book, THE FALCON, Mateo and Josie are caught up in the search for an Aztec treasure in the Sierra Madre Oriental Mountains in Northern Mexico.

The Falcon by Kristy McCaffrey
Wings of the West: Book 12
Coming September 22, 2026

Mexico

December 1899 

Josie Ryan’s connection to Texas runs deep, from the land to an almost preternatural kinship with the animals in the wild. This bond has led her to the edge of life and death, from saving a boy caught in a fire when she was eleven years old to being struck by lightning to a mountain lion attack that almost ended her life. The discovery of an abandoned falcon chick leads to a fierce attachment, but with only intuition to guide her, Josie struggles to train the wildest creature she’s ever encountered. When she learns of a man who could help, she’s determined to gain an introduction. 

Mateo Almirón, El Halconero—The Falconer—and Argentine gaucho, is tasked with delivering two prized purebred Criollo mares to Matt Ryan, a man whose reputation casts a long shadow. Years ago, Ryan saved the life of Mateo’s father, and the horses will settle the longstanding debt, but when the exchange goes wrong, Mateo is entrusted with protecting Ryan’s daughter, Josie. Now Mateo and Josie must hide in the mountains of Northern Mexico where stories abound of Josie’s mother, a woman who lived among the Comanche and rose from the dead. 

But in a place alive with superstition, Josie and her untamed falcon will give rise to a new legend …

Josie is the youngest child of Matt and Molly from THE WREN.

* * * * *

Available for pre-order from Nook and Apple Books.

(It will also be available at Amazon, Kobo, Google Play Books, and in paperback on release day.)

Connect with Kristy

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Monclova, Mexico

By Kristy McCaffrey

The city of Monclova sits in the northern state of Coahuila in Mexico near the Sierra Madre Oriental mountain range. Established in 1577 by Spanish colonists, it was later the capital of Nueva Extremadura provincial. It was also the first colonial capital of Texas.

In 1836, the state of Coahuila y Tejas was divided into Coahuila and Tejas (or Texas). During this time the Texas revolution occurred—a rebellion by Anglo-American immigrants as well as Hispanic Texans against the centralist Mexican government. Mexico believed the United States had fomented the insurrection with the goal for annexation. Only the province of Texas succeeded in breaking from Mexico, creating the Republic of Texas. A decade later it was added to the U.S.

Monclova is known for silver, lead, zinc, and copper mining, and today is one of Mexico’s largest iron and steel works.

* * * * *

THE FALCON opens in Monclova, Mexico, as Matt Ryan faces his past with his youngest daughter, Josie.

The Falcon by Kristy McCaffrey
Wings of the West: Book 12

Coming July 3, 2026

Mexico

December 1899 

Josie Ryan’s connection to Texas runs deep, from the land to an almost preternatural kinship with the animals in the wild. This bond has led her to the edge of life and death, from saving a boy caught in a fire when she was eleven years old to being struck by lightning to a mountain lion attack that almost ended her life. The discovery of an abandoned falcon chick leads to a fierce attachment, but with only intuition to guide her, Josie struggles to train the wildest creature she’s ever encountered. When she learns of a man who could help, she’s determined to gain an introduction. 

Mateo Almirón, El Halconero—The Falconer—and Argentine gaucho, is tasked with delivering two prized purebred Criollo mares to Matt Ryan, a man whose reputation casts a long shadow. Years ago, Ryan saved the life of Mateo’s father, and the horses will settle the longstanding debt, but when the exchange goes wrong, Mateo is entrusted with protecting Ryan’s daughter, Josie. Now Mateo and Josie must hide in the mountains of Northern Mexico where stories abound of Josie’s mother, a woman who lived among the Comanche and rose from the dead. 

But in a place alive with superstition, Josie and her untamed falcon will give rise to a new legend …

Josie is the youngest child of Matt and Molly from THE WREN.

* * * * *

Available for pre-order from Amazon, Nook, and Apple Books.

(It will also be available at Kobo, Google Play Books, and in paperback on release day.)

Connect with Kristy

Website | Facebook | Instagram | TikTok | Newsletter

The Poinsettia

courtesy of www.bloom.uk.com

The Poinsettia is a native Mexican plant. Its origins trace back to present day Taxco. The poinsettia, Euphorbia pulcherrima, Willd, is a member of the Euphorbiaceae family and is defined as a female flower, without petals and usually without sepals, surrounded by individual male flowers enclosed in a cup-shaped structure called a cyathium. The Euphorbia genus contains 700-1000 species. The Aztecs in central Mexico cultivated the plant and used the colorful leaves, known as bracts, to make a reddish-purple dye for clothes and makeup. The Poinsettia’s milky sap was made into a medicine to treat fevers. 

 

Joel Roberts Poinsettcourtesy of http://www.apsnet.org

Joel Roberts Poinsett is credited as the first American to bring the plant to the United States. A botanist from Greenville, South Carolina, Poinsett was also the first United States Ambassador to Mexico. Best remembered as the founder of the Smithsonian Institute, Poinsett traveled to the Taxco area, discovered the colorful plants growing on adjacent hillsides and had some of them shipped to his home, where he grew them in his greenhouse. From there, he gifted some of the plants to his friends and also sent some to botanical gardens and to fellow botanist John Bartram in Philadelphia. Bartram sent the plant to his friend Robert Buist. Buist was a plants-man from Pennsylvania and thought to be the first person to sell the Poinsettia under its original name. Legend has it the Euphorbia pulcherrima, Willd, became known as the Poinsettia in the 1830’s, after Joel Robert Poinsett. 

 

courtesy of www.orthodoxytoday.org

How did the Poinsettia become known as the Christmas plant? The Aztecs prized the poinsettia and believed it to be a symbol of purity. In the 17^th century, Franciscan monks in Mexico incorporated the flower into their Fiesta of Santa Pesbre; a nativity procession. This is the first time the Poinsettia was associated with Christmas, leading Mexico’s Christians to adopt the plant as their Christmas Eve flower. The star-shaped bracts symbolize the Star of Bethlehem. The red leaves represent Christ’s blood and the white leaves symbolize his purity. 

 

courtesy of www.distinctive-decor.com

Once the monks included the Poinsettia in their nativity procession, a few legends sprang up as to why and how the plant became associated with Christmas. One is the tale of poor, young Pepita who was upset because she did not have a gift to give to the baby Jesus at Christmas Eve mass. As she made her way to the church, her cousin tried to cheer her up. Pedro told Pepita that even the smallest gift presented to Jesus in love would make the Christ child happy. Pepita picked some weeds and placed them beside the manger. Before everyone’s eyes, the weeds magically transformed into beautiful red flowers. Another tale says it was an angel who told Pepita to pick the weeds and bring them to the church. Regardless, the parishioners swore they’d witnessed a miracle, and from that evening on, the flowers became known as Flores de Noche Buena; Flowers of the Holy Night. 

 

Merry Christmas Everyone! I wish you and your family a joyous holiday season. Julie

San Xavier del Bac Mission

Tucson

My first and only time to visit Tucson happened about 17 years ago. Mikie, a long-time friend, resides in the desert city and spent three days playing tour guide for the hubby and me.  He took us to Sabino Canyon, across the border into Nogales, Mexico and introduced me to the ‘used bookstore’. I could have spent the whole day in that store, but with my arms full, an hour sufficed. I fell in love with Tucson and the surrounding area that long weekend. The mountains and desert are beautiful, but what really caught my eye was the San Xavier del Bac Mission.

San Xavier del Bac Mission is a Catholic mission located south of Tucson. Father Eusebio Kino founded the mission in 1692 when Southern Arizona was a part of New Spain. Construction of the present day church began in 1783 after Franciscan missionary Father Juan Bautista Velderran borrowed 7,000 pesos from a Sonoran rancher. Ignacio Gaona was hired as the architect, and building was completed in 1797. With the Mexican independence, the mission became part of Mexico in 1821 and then became part of the United States in 1854 under the Gadsen Purchase. San Xavier was part of the Santa Fe Diocese and later incorporated into the Tucson Diocese when Tucson came into its own existence in 1866.   

San Xavier del Bac Mission

The mission is constructed of low-fire clay brick, stone, and lime mortar and roofed with masonry vaults. In 1887, an earthquake knocked down the mortuary wall and damaged other areas of the church. Under the guidance of Bishop Henry Granjon, repairs to the church began in 1905. Further restoration had to be done after a lightning strike to the West Tower lantern in 1939.

While the exterior of San Xavier is grand, the interior is stunning. Artwork and sculptures adorn every available space, including the ceiling. After Father Velderrain died, Father Juan Abutista Llorens continued Father Valderrain’s work. He oversaw the painting of the murals and the commissioning of religious sculptures in Old Mexico guild shops brought to the mission on donkeys. Not much is known about the crafting of the building or the artists who painted the murals, except the mission was built by the O’odham tribe and no less than three artists painted the murals.

Interior of San Xavier

Today, San Xavier is a National Historical Landmark and also known as The White Dove of the Desert. Thousands of people visit the tranquil grounds each year to learn about its history. The Franciscan Sisters of Christian Charity live in the convent and teach at the school opened by the Sisters of St. Joseph of Carondelet in 1872. Worship services are held on a regular basis.       

Exterior of San Xavier

Confessions of a Crazy Canuck

Me in Mazatlan, age five.

  I love the idea of Texas the way Karl May loved the idea of the wild west. It is only loosely based on reality and owes a great deal to pop culture including John Wayne movies, Louis L'Amour stories and the amazing pitching speed of Nolan Ryan. It started long before my love of history took hold.

It started in Mexico.

My sister and I had whooping cough. I was five; Joanne was two. She was the reason we had to seek out a warm, dry climate for Christmas instead of visiting family in Montreal. Since my parents weren’t exactly flush with funds, they packed up my father’s company station wagon and we drove south, headed for Mazatlan.

With the self-centred clarity of a child, I only remember the parts of the trip that had an impact on me. I remember the switchback roads in the mountains. Dad loved them. Mum and Joanne were throwing up. Me - who was car sick on a straight road - was morbidly fascinated by the sheer drops out the side window.

I remember eating peeled shrimp like candy... and my first real pineapple.

When we finally reached the beach, I stepped on a crab and was scared of the sand for years after. (That's me, scared, photographed with my father.) I don't remember the crab, but I do remember being scared.

For some reason, I also remembered Laredo. I don’t remember much about the town except the name. It etched itself on my consciousness; the sound of the word was as exotic and exciting to me as Paris or Istanbul might be to someone else.

Traveling to Mexico became a family habit for a while - especially after we acquired a camper. It was in the camper that I started reading Zane Grey and Louis L’Amour. I had run out of Georgette Heyer and had not yet developed an interest in the mysteries my mother brought along for the trip. Dad gave me a copy of Riders of the Purple Sage, followed a couple of L’Amour’s short story collections. Suddenly I started taking an interest in the country we were traveling through. The United States - particularly Texas - ceased to be a geographic obstacle between home and our destination.

"Too often I would hear men boast of the miles covered that day, rarely of what they had seen." - Louis L'Amour

When I needed to research Texas history and geography for Under A Texas Star, memories of those trips floated up to the surface.

One other trip cinched the deal – but it wasn’t one I took. My parents decided to go to Mexico when my mother retired. The family camper was long gone. Instead they outfitted a van with a kitchenette, bed and porta-potty. Feeling a bit envious, I wished them bon voyage one chill November morning. A couple of days later, they called from the Mexican border.

They had forgotten the vehicle permit. They couldn’t get into Mexico.

Stifling a laugh that I would have paid dearly for, I suggested they visit Texas while they were there – and bring back guide books. I was setting my mystery in the old west.

And now the confession. Since I'm hip-deep in book edits, I stole most of this post from an early self. As I keep telling my kids: "Recycle. Reuse. Re-purpose."

My sister wasn't afraid of the sand.

The Origins of the Cowboy

As American as Tapas
by Alison Bruce

The cowboy is an American icon. But the cowboy was adapted from the Spanish American vaquero and the vaquero had it's origins in the Spanish Reconquista.

Before the Spanish could build its empire in the Americas, it had to reconquer the Iberian peninsula which was under Islamic rule. In order to hold onto the lands, the Castilian king granted vast tracts to his nobles and military officers. Similar to the American South West (as we have seen in so many westerns) these lands were best suited to raising cattle and sheep. Because of the expanses involved, working from horseback was essential. The resulting hacienda system was the forerunner of the American ranch.

Coincidentally, the last Moorish kingdom fell in 1492 - the same year the Columbus "sailed the ocean blue."  Soon after Spain established colonies in Mexico, caballeros (gentlemen) started training Mexican to work their ranches. They were called vaquero, cow men, almost as an insult and certainly as a term to differentiate them from the Spanish-born caballeros. In time, the name was used with pride.

"One of the highest stations you could have in life was to be a caballero," said Chavez, a resident of New Mexico whose lineage can be traced to the Don Juan de Oñate colony, the caballero who was among the first cowboys in the U.S.
"Even the poor Mexican vaqueros were very proud and there were few things they couldn't do from a saddle." 
"Vaquero is a transliteration of the words 'cow' and 'man.' Vaca means 'cow,'" said Chavez. "Interestingly enough, in Spanish, we call ourselves cowmen; in English, it was demoted to cowboys."

 Vaqueros: The First Cowboys, National Geographic

With the missions, vaqueros spread west to California. When pioneers from northern European stock spread southwest, they adopted and adapted the Spanish way of ranching.

In their origin countries, raising herds of sheep and cattle were a different business altogether. Instead of vast tracks of semi-arid land, the people of central Europe and Britain moved herds by foot from pasture to pasture, usually on foot, using dogs to herd. This wasn't practical in the American west.

One out of every three cowboys in the late 1800s was the Mexican vaquero, says Kendall Nelson, a photographer from Idaho whose recent book, Gathering Remnants: A Tribute to the Working Cowboy (was made into a movie.)
"All of the skills, traditions, and ways of working with cattle are very much rooted in the Mexican vaquero," Nelson told National Geographic News. "If you are a cowboy in the U.S. today, you have developed what you know from the vaquero."

ibid

Like tapas, pizza and Chinese food, the cowboy culture has its roots outside North America. Also like those dishes, the culture has evolved in the melting pot of America.

Writing Notebook

Why would a Canadian set her story in Texas?

Blame it on Mexico.

My sister and I had whooping cough. I was five; Joanne was two. She was the reason we had to seek out a warm, dry climate for Christmas instead of visiting family in Montreal. Since my parents weren’t exactly flush with funds, they packed up my father’s company station wagon and we drove south, headed for Mazatlan.

With the self-centered clarity of a child, I only remember the parts of the trip that had an impact on me. I remember the switchback roads in the mountains. Dad loved them. Mum and Joanne were throwing up. Me - who was car sick on a straight road - was morbidly fascinated by the sheer drops out the side window.
I remember eating peeled shrimp like candy... and my first real pineapple.

When we finally reached the beach, I stepped on a crab and was scared of the sand for years after.
For some reason, I also remembered Laredo. I don’t remember much about the town except the name. It etched itself on my consciousness; the sound of the word was as exotic and exciting to me as Paris or Istanbul might be to someone else.

Traveling to Mexico became a family habit for a while - especially after we acquired a camper. It was in the camper that I started reading Zane Grey and Louis L’Amour. I had run out of Georgette Heyer and had not yet developed an interest in the mysteries my mother brought along for the trip. Dad gave me a copy of Riders of the Purple Sage, followed a couple of L’Amour’s short story collections. Suddenly I started taking an interest in the country we were travelling through. The United States - particularly Texas - ceased to be a geographic obstacle between home and our destination.

"Too often I would hear men boast of the miles covered that day, rarely of what they had seen." - Louis L'Amour 

When I needed to research Texas history and geography for Under A Texas Star, memories of those trips floated up to the surface.

One other trip cinched the deal – but it wasn’t one I took. My parents decided to go to Mexico when my mother retired. The family camper was long gone. Instead they outfitted a van with a kitchenette, bed and porta-potty. Feeling a bit envious, I wished them bon voyage one chill November morning. A couple of days later, they called from the Mexican border.

They had forgotten the vehicle permit. They couldn’t get into Mexico.

Stifling a laugh that I would have paid dearly for, I suggested they visit Texas while they were there – and bring back guide books. I was setting my mystery in the old west.