Determined to repay those who have sacrificed much for her, Laura Taylor turns her artistic vision to a fabulous dream. From the ruins of a Spanish mission, she will build a splendidly luxurious pleasure resort, frequented by the world's most glamorous people. A woman of indomitable passions and remarkable strength, she is forced to deal with the jealousies and deceptions of those nearest her, and the crushing loss of the husband she adores. But, overcoming the setbacks life throws at her, she is, first and foremost, an artist. And her finest masterpiece by far is the woman she makes herself ...

Casa Grande, Arizona, is located on desert and farmland between Tucson and Phoenix and began as the end of an unfinished railroad line--thus its early name, Terminus. On May 19, 1879, when early summer heat halted construction of the railroad in what would soon become Casa Grande, only three buildings and five residents constituted the town. The names reflect the ethnic diversity of the sparse population: Buckalew, Ochoa, Smith, Watzlavocki, and Fryer. In September 1880, executives of the Southern Pacific Railroad Company named the town Casa Grande after the prehistoric Hohokam Indian ruins located 20 miles to the east. This volume illustrates how a desert railroad stop grew into a city. Today, as Casa Grande's population increases, new neighborhoods, schools, malls, and entertainment venues provide exciting new reasons for living here. However, as the population grows, the town struggles to retain its identity as an agricultural community.

"In its depiction of the themes of incest and solitude, against the shadowy background of the old Colombian big house, within the corrupt political setting, it is a worthy predecessor of the Macondo master's One Hundred Years of Solitude." --Choice

Diverting the Gilaexplores the complex web of tension, distrust, and political maneuvering to divide and divert the scarce waters of Arizona's Gila River among residents of Florence, Casa Grande, and the Pima Indians in the early part of the twentieth century. It is the sequel to David H. DeJong's 2009 Stealing the Gila, and it continues to tell the story of the forerunner to the San Carlos Irrigation Project and the Gila River Indian Community's struggle to regain access to their water.

An inspector rages against the announcement that police HQ is to relocate – the way so many of the city’s residents already have – to the mainland... An aspiring author struggles with the inexorable creep of rentalisation that has forced him to share his apartment, and life, with ‘global pilgrims’... An ageing painter rails against the liberties taken by tourists, but finds his anger undermined by his own childhood memories of the place... The Venice presented in these stories is a far cry from the ‘impossibly beautiful’, frozen-in-time city so familiar to the thousands who flock there every year – a city about which, Henry James once wrote, ‘there is nothing new to be said.’ Instead, they represent the other Venice, the one tourists rarely see: the real, everyday city that Venetians have to live and work in. Rather than a city in stasis, we see it at a crossroads, fighting to regain its radical, working-class soul, regretting the policies that have seen it turn slowly into a theme park, and taking the pandemic as an opportunity to rethink what kind of city it wants to be.