There’s a different kind of magic in my stories—one that doesn’t glitter or grant wishes, but reckons. It’s ancestral magic, and for me, it’s deeply personal.
As a Dominican who immigrated to the U.S. as a child, I’ve lived inside multiple identities. There’s the girl I was in the Dominican Republic, the version of myself I had to reconstruct to survive the diaspora, and the one I present to the world now—confident, layered, often still healing. These aren’t just masks. They’re realities shaped by place, memory, and the stories we’re told—or not told.
And that’s what ancestral magic is in The Ordinary Bruja:
- A confrontation.
- A reckoning.
- A return.
The Espinal Lineage
The Espinal women didn’t ask to be magical.
Their power was inherited, yes—but also buried, silenced, fractured by fear and control. Salvador Espinal, the manipulative ancestor at the center of this family’s curse, represents the patriarchal violence that often targets feminine power in quiet, persistent ways. But even he couldn’t extinguish it completely. Magic has memory. It lingers.
This storyline was inspired by real-life echoes. My grandmother had an altar I wasn’t supposed to touch—but of course I did. I was always curious. Drawn to it. There was something sacred, something known about it, even if I didn’t have the language yet.
In retrospect, I understand what my child self sensed:
There is a part of this world we’re told not to believe in—
But our souls recognize it.
And our ancestors left breadcrumbs.
That’s what Marisol Espinal follows. And that’s what I follow when I write.
The Role of Naming
Names matter in my work. They’re not random. They’re reclamation.
Marisol Espinal isn’t just a name—it’s a key. “Espinal” connects her to a line of women who held power long before she ever believed in her own. It’s thorny, old, and rooted. And “Marisol”? A name that carries sun and sea. A contradiction, a blessing, a promise.
In The Ordinary Bruja, naming is an act of power. It’s how Marisol begins to understand who she is—not who she was told to be. It’s how the story honors what was hidden, what was stolen, and what’s coming back into the light.
Because to name something is to claim it.
And to claim yourself—your magic, your history, your truth—is the most powerful spell of all.
What It Means in My Stories
If you read my work, you’ll always find a thread of the supernatural. But it’s never just for show. It’s there because the spiritual has always been part of our cultural language. The altar my grandmother kept wasn’t fantasy—it was foundation. It’s the kind of presence I write into my fiction to say: We were always magical. We just forgot.
So, when you read The Ordinary Bruja or any of my stories that touch the veil, know this:
That magic?
It’s yours too.
You curious on how it all turns out?
Preorder The Ordinary Bruja now
The Ordinary Bruja: Book One of Las Cerradoras Series – Johanny Ortega
Marisol Espinal has spent her life trying to disappear from her family’s whispers of magic, from the shame of not belonging, from the truth she refuses to face. She’s always wanted to be someone else: confident, capable, extraordinary.
But when strange visions, flickering shadows, and warnings written in her mother’s hand begin to stalk her, Marisol is forced to confront her deepest fear: what if she isn’t extraordinary at all? What if she’s painfully ordinary?
Yet Hallowthorn Hill doesn’t call to just anyone. And the more Marisol resists, the stronger its pull becomes. The past she’s buried claws its way back, and something in the mist is watching—waiting for her to remember.
If Marisol cannot face the truth about who she is and where she comes from, the same darkness that destroyed her ancestors will claim her, too.
Somewhere in the shadows, something knows her name.
And it’s time for Marisol to learn why.
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