Book Feature: Sandra C. López’s Hispanic Humor Fiction Novella, SINGLE CHICAS!

Hi, readers! We have a real treat in store for you today, a spotlight on a book by Sandra C. López, quite a talented author! 
We wish you lots of success on your Humor Fiction novella! 
Let's check out the details, shall we?
Here is the book blurb for Single Chicas.

Perfection is a Barbie doll, and, unless you're looking for a guy with a fake smile, a hard head, and no genitalia, then you're better off NOT being perfect. ― Single Chicas

Single Chicas is a collection of stories about modern Latinas being in, out, and around the zany hurdles of relationships. One woman receives strange calls from a lonely soul, another seeks advice on how to love herself, and another wakes up in a parallel universe to a man she's never met. These chicas will make painstaking effort to survive the complexities with humor and grace. Once again, López dazzles audiences with her brilliantly candid craft. Smart, witty, and funny, these stories will explore the true endurance of singlehood.

Sandra is also giving us a peek at her book today!

The professor stood upfront lecturing on the Pythagorean Theorem, while most of the students took notes. Somewhere in the back of the class, Chrissy laid back in her seat, inconspicuously checking the messages on her phone. A text came in from Simone.

Hey, chica! see u @ G's plc in 1/2 hr. Bring the chips.

After class, Chrissy steered through the legion of chatty students, traipsing down the busy
stairwell and exiting through the rear door of the Math and Science Building next to the
parking lot on Western Avenue. She got into her car, strapped on her seat belt, and sent a
quick text reading: On my way.

It was a little after 4 o'clock by the time Chrissy got to Georgia's house. She saw Simone getting
out of her Toyota as she pulled up right behind her.
"Hey, whassup?" Simone called out to her. "Ready to get to work?"
"Locked and ready," Chrissy replied. "Let's do it."
They both walked up the path to the front door, and Georgia answered on the second knock.
"Hey, we're just about to set up. Did someone remember to bring the chips?"
Chrissy held up the 7-Eleven bag in front of her. "Right here."
They all went to the back of the house to Georgia's room, where pizza and sodas were waiting
on the bed. Chrissy sat on the edge of the mattress and pulled out her laptop, while the other
girls gathered around. Simone helped herself to a heaping slice, as Chrissy logged on to their
email account. Four new emails had been received. The first one read:

Dear Single Chicas,
Hey, hey, love your site! I was wondering if you could help me. I have a boyfriend I'm crazy
about, but he has a tendency to call me at work. It's getting annoying. Any advice?
Looney Cell

"Ah, a typical relationship conundrum," Simone said with a mouthful of pizza.
"Yeah, a typical headache," Georgia added.
"So what do we say?" Chrissy asked.
"Try this," Simone said, waiting for Chrissy to start typing.

Dear Looney Cell,
Your boyfriend needs to realize that when you are at work, you are NOT his girlfriend. You
need to give him specific hours, just like in any other job. Lay down the line with him. Point
out that each time he calls you at your job, it keeps you from doing the work—work you're
getting paid to do and work that in no way, shape, or form involves him. Besides, it may get
you in trouble with your boss, if it hasn't already. Instead tell him to send you a simple text,
but be careful not to overload your phone memory. Thanks for the shout out!
Single Chicas

The next email read:

Dear Single Chicas,
What's up! Problem: I'm engaged and I'm totally freaking out about it. Would I be a fool to
ask if we could postpone the big day until I'm less freaked?
Yours truly,
Runaway Bride


Dear Runaway Bride,
Absolutely not! Don't do anything you don't feel ready for. Be honest about it. If nobody can
understand that, then you would save yourself the headache and the hassle, not to mention
the time and money, for that whole shindig. If it wasn't meant to be, then so be it. If,
however, you have a guy that is willing to wait, then, by all means, let him wait. Wait, wait,
wait until you are sure you can make it down that aisle without breaking out in hives. Just
make sure you bring your running shoes on the big day....just in case. ;)
Single Chicas

The next email read:

Hey, Single Chicas,
I saw this one episode of "I Love Lucy" where Lucy suggests a vacation from marriage. What
are your thoughts? Yay or Nay?
TV Addict

Dear TV Addict,
Yay! A vacation from marriage allows for the re-discovery of one's individuality―the "I"
before the "we." There is such a thing as spending "too much" time together. Lucy said it best
in that episode: "I'm sick at the sight of your face." Take a vacation to avoid this sickness.
Single Chicas

And finally:

Dear Single Chicas,
My friends think I'm a wet blanket because I'd rather stay home in my PJ's than go out
clubbing with them. They don't get that I get tired after a long day and all I want to do is sit
back with a remote. Are they right?
Party Pooper

Dear Party Pooper,
Hell, no! Having the couch and sole possession of the remote control are what it's all about.
Do what makes you happy.
Single Chicas
Olivia didn't expect to see Josh in the library, with his arm draped around another girl. It had
been a little over a year since their break up, and this was the first time she'd seen him since
he disappeared from school last semester. Flustered, she sank deeper into her chair, trying to
hide her face behind her computer screen. Had she been seen? she wondered. She peered
through the side of her eye. The two didn't seem to notice. All Josh seemed to focus on was her
lusciously long, black hair, her sweet, vanilla skin, and a sparkling smile worthy of any Trident
commercial. And that body!? Did she jump out of a Victoria’s Secret catalog or something?
Whatever this girl was brewing definitely had Josh at her feet.
Olivia turned back to the screen, resolved to return to her work. Her tense fingers hovering
above the keys, she gazed at the cursor blinking mercilessly in the middle of her Biology paper.
She sat there staring, biting her lower lip, as her mind nervously drew a blank. What was she
about to say? Where was she going with this? When was the due date? She began twirling a pen between her fingers as she quickly snuck a glance at them. He was now leaning toward her ear. Was he nuzzling her? The pen flapped furiously in the air, faster and faster, as she watched him burrowing deeper into her neck. Knee bouncing, teeth grinding, faster and faster.....until she shot up to her feet, racing to get out of there.
When she got to her dorm, all Olivia wanted to do was erase the memory of Josh with that girl,
so she surfed the web, hoping to rid her mind of it. Then she stumbled across a link to a
website called Single Chicas. She clicked on it, and it opened up to a home page featuring a
photo of three young girls. The caption read: "Chrissy, Simone, and Georgia. The Single
Chicas." Olivia studied the image with a longing gleam in her eye. They looked so
happy―happy being single. Why couldn't she? She browsed through some of their letters and
couldn't help smiling at some of them. These were pretty good. Some were actually funny or
witty. Her pointer floating over the 'send us an email' button, she mulled over whether they
could help her. After all, she didn't want to obsess over Josh. It was bad enough having to let
him go when it was over. Then again, perhaps she was still holding on? Perhaps, somewhere in
her heart, she hoped that one day he would come back to her. How could that be, when he
was with the perfect girl now? Was that all that Olivia needed to be? Perfect?
She looked down at herself, sighing. Something was wrong. Without realizing it, the mouse
clicked and a message board popped up. Olivia started typing.

Dear Single Chicas,
This is my first time on your site, and I was hoping to get your thoughts on a matter. Should I
feel threatened by the fact that my ex-boyfriend found the perfect girl?

That evening, Olivia got a reply.

Dear O-Negative,
Of course not! First of all, there's no such thing as a "perfect" girl. Just because the girl has
flawless skin, hair that flies in the breeze, great tits, and farts that smell like roses, it
doesn't mean she's "perfect." Perfection is a Barbie doll, and, unless you're looking for a guy
with a fake smile, a hard head, and no genitalia, then you're better off NOT being perfect.
Second, you need to recall why you now call him your ex. There's a reason why you're not
with him.
Single Chicas

Olivia pondered over that last line. The reason she was not with him was because he had ended it. Shocked by his proclamation, she had asked him why. He simply responded that he just wasn't feeling it anymore. It just wasn't there for him. Still, he had loved her once, as much as she loved him. How could that all just go away? And, most importantly, could it ever come back?
The following Tuesday, Olivia was at the library with her study group; they were all reviewing notes and preparing for next week's exam. An hour later, everyone took off for lunch, except Olivia, who wanted to study some more. When she no longer could bear the rumble in her stomach, she reluctantly left for the food court.
Standing in line at the Arby's station, Olivia carefully counted the coins in her purse, wanting to make sure if she could afford the roast beef sandwich. When the cashier called her up at the next register, she blindly approached as somebody skated right past her, causing the coins to drop. Muttering under her breath, Olivia crouched to the floor and started collecting her money in the midst of the unyielding lunch crowd.
Recognizing the voice, Olivia froze for a moment before looking up. It was Josh. "Hi," she gushed alarmingly.
"Hey, need some help?"
"No, no, I'm good," she quickly answered, leaping to her feet, the few coins tightly wedged between her fingers.
Sensing her discomfort, Josh asked, " you been?"
"Can't complain," he said.
Yeah, especially since you bagged Miss Perfect. But then she thought back to the email, remembering that there's no such thing as a perfect girl. Think of it as a Monet, she told herself. Sometimes something can only look good from far away, until you get up close and see it's nothing but a blurry mess. Yeah, that was definitely her.
"So, what are you doing right now?" Josh asked.
Olivia glanced over at the cashier, who was now taking somebody else's order. "Well, I guess I'm still waiting on lunch."
"Oh, hey, I'll join ya, my treat!"
Was he kidding? He broke up with her and he wants to hang out? "Why would you want to do that?" she asked.
"Well, we go way back, of course...and..." He shifted, tugging on the strap of his backpack, pondering his next words. "And...we're friends...right?"
"Friends?" The word played like a foreign language she couldn't decipher. Friends?
When she got home, Olivia wrote another email.

Dear Single Chicas,
Is it possible to be friends with your ex?

Dear O-Negative,
A good rule of thumb is: You can't be friends with someone you've seen naked. Once you've seen someone in all their hairy glory, it's pretty hard to look at them any different, because all you'll think about is how they looked to you before (naked!) Your mind will never be able to let that go.
Single Chicas

Olivia lay awake that night thinking over Josh's idea. Friends? Was he for real? If so, then why wait so long to suggest it? Perhaps he wanted to give her space. Perhaps he figured he had made a mistake and wanted to slowly re-establish himself into her life. Perhaps Miss Perfect wasn't who she thought she was. Could he want her back? Perhaps this could be their second chance?
Once she drifted off into sleep, she had a dream about the day she and Josh met. It was two years ago.
She was leaving the student union with a synthetic rendition of the human heart that she had spent weeks working on. With a backpack, a load of books, and her project, Olivia trekked down the hall, teetering with the awkward weight and plowing through a swarm of prattling students. With swift, cautious strides, she bobbed and weaved, trying to get to class on time. If there was one thing she couldn't stand, it was tardiness. Then, as she was passing by the bathroom, a door swung open, knocking right into her, making her drop everything.
Soon the floor was a sprawling mess of scattered papers, books, pens, rulers, highlighters, erasers, and so forth.
"Oh no," she whimpered, scrambling to retrieve all the stuff.
"Oh, geez, I'm sorry, let me help you."
Before she knew it, the guy stooped down beside her, gathering the wreckage. She looked up at the profile of a Greek God. A chiseled nose stood prominently on bronzed skin, his smooth, jet black hair hanging loosely over his magnetic, brown eyes.
"Thanks," she mumbled, trying not to stare too much. Lumping all her things into a neat pile, she peered at her project and her face collapsed. Her project was in pieces. "Oh no," she said, reaching for it. On the verge of tears, she examined the horrible mess, completely at a loss for a solution. Then she turned to him, her voice a strain, and cried, "You broke my heart."
"I am so sorry," he said. "Let me help you fix it."
Her lip trembled as her eyes brimmed with livid tears. She immediately looked away, shaking her head in defeat and fighting back the salty pool stinging her eyes. Although his expression showed great remorse and sympathy, all she could think about was the failing grade she was going to get. What was she going to do? What could she do really? There was no time left. Her class was starting in five minutes. She couldn't believe it. All her hard work, all the hours put in—ruined by some guy who was blasting out of the bathroom as if his ass was on fire. Not wanting to look at him anymore, no matter how handsome he was, Olivia quickly rose with the jumbled remnants of her belongings and scurried away as the tears began to run down her cheeks.
"Wait, let me help you," yelled the guy. But Olivia kept running, not once looking back.
When she reached the classroom, Olivia took a deep breath, bracing herself for the grisly outcome. She entered slowly with dread and trepidation. She could feel her manic heart pumping out of her chest as she passed by the professor's desk.
"Olivia, what happened?" he asked, noting the wreck she was carrying.
Meeting his gaze, she tried to explain, her voice shaking like a rattlesnake tail. "It, um...just slipped...out of just...broke."
"Oh, well, that's unfortunate," he said, his tone tight with rigor. "This project is a major part of your grade and today is the deadline. I explained to the whole class repeatedly that there were no extensions, no make-ups, and no excuses."
"Yes...I know," she uttered. "And I'm...sorry."
"Well, I'm sorry too, Olivia. And I'm afraid that I'll have no choice but to―"
"It was me." They both turned, suddenly catching sight of a young man at the entrance.
Oh no, this guy again? Olivia thought. What's he doing now?
"It was me," said the guy, marching up to the professor. "I did it. I accidentally bumped into this sweet girl and destroyed her project."
"Well, that's quite valiant of you," the professor indicated. "But Olivia here was well aware of the criteria and the deadline and, therefore, is solely responsible for meeting them."
"I fully understand that," he said. "And I'm kindly requesting that she get a chance to show you what she would've presented if it hadn't been for an idiot like me. Just give her a chance to fix it. Please." He stood there, cool and collected, as the professor surveyed him with intrigue and affinity.
Olivia nervously watched the exchange between the two. Would she get more than a failing grade for this? Would she get kicked out of class? What was this guy doing? Was he trying to ruin her life?
"All right, I'll give her 'til five o'clock to turn it in at my office."
"Really?" Olivia cried in relief.
"Yes, you’re an excellent student, Olivia. You've done great work all semester and it would be a tragedy for it to end like this."
"Thank you, sir. I promise I won't let you down."
"Five o' clock, not a minute later," he added stoically.
The professor's face remained expressionless as he walked away to start the class.
Deeply relieved, Olivia focused on the incredible guy that had just saved her life. "How can I ever thank you?"
Smiling, the guy said, "Don't worry about it. Like I said, it was my fault. After all, I broke your heart. It's only fair that I fix it."
Breaking away from the dream, Olivia woke up, grinning at the memory. She reached for her laptop and typed another email.

Dear Single Chicas,
The guy broke my heart: twice (literally and emotionally.) Can I trust him again?

Early the next morning, she found a response.

Dear O-Negative,
Hearts are fragile objects—easy to break, but not impossible to fix. It may take a while, but it is possible to put the pieces back together again...

Olivia smiled, recalling her and Josh frantically gluing the pieces of her heart project that day.

...As far as trust is concerned, the only way to answer that is to find out. You'll never know otherwise.
The Single Chicas

What people are saying about Single Chicas:

 "Sandra Lopez's Single Chicas is a surprising story collection about single women who actually opt to stay that way. The theme is both romance and the opposite of romance. Rather than happily ever after, why not choose happy for now?" - Virginia, Amazon


"Single Chicas is a smart and funny collection of stories centering on the lives of modern Latinas. Young women pursue their dreams while simultaneously navigating the complexities of contemporary relationships. Along the way, each woman struggles to maintain her precious independence." - T.M. Spooner, Amazon


"You'll smile. You'll laugh. You'll cry. Author Sandra Lopez has the recipe for slices of life with lots of spice. I will admit that I read this wonderful collection almost straight through. I found the writing so engaging, the characters so colorful, the stories such a good time, I couldn't put this short collection down." - J.D. Rachel, Amazon



Wow! What an interesting book!

Purchase Links:

Universal Amazon:






Thanks for letting us know all about your Hispanic humorous fiction collection! It sounds intriguing! :)


About the Author:


Sandra C. López is one of today's influential Latina authors in Young Adult literature. Her first novel, Esperanza: A Latina Story, was published in March 2008 WHILE she was still in college. Shortly after that, she wrote the follow-up title, Beyond the Gardens, starring her inspirational heroine. Now, this young writer is a full graduate of Cal State University Fullerton with a BFA in the arts. She was named as one of "2011 Top Ten New Latino Authors to Watch" by Latino Stories. 

López is the author of Beyond the Gardens (2009), which was a silver medal winner in the 2016 Global EBook Awards and won first place in the International Latino Book Awards. Single Chicas is the first installment in the Single Chicas series. For more information, visit

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Sandra's Books:

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