Naomi Hirahara
@gasagasagirlNaomi Hirahara is the author of the Edgar Award-winning Mas Arai mystery series, which features a Kibei Nisei gardener and atomic-bomb survivor who solves crimes, Officer Ellie Rush series, and now the new Leilani Santiago mysteries. A former editor of The Rafu Shimpo, she has written a number of nonfiction books on the Japanese American experience and several 12-part serials for Discover Nikkei.
Updated October 2019
Stories from This Author
Chapter Three—The Perfect Cut
Nov. 4, 2016 • Naomi Hirahara
My feet are swollen and sore, and it’s all because of pork belly. In Japan we had a special distributor which brought our okonomiyaki restaurant fresh cuts two times a week. They were sliced thin like American bacon with just the right amount of marbling. The slices cooked perfectly on our grill—not too crisp, not too limp. Risa, my best friend and roommate, had told me about Chinatown and Little Korea. I couldn’t believe how expansive Chinatown was—long blocks filled …
Chapter Two—Trade Secrets
Oct. 4, 2016 • Naomi Hirahara
A-ra, I think, struggling to turn off the hot water shower faucet. My uncle. The last person in the whole wide world that I want to talk to. Risa’s holding out her cell phone from the open crack of the bathroom door. Her white arms are as thin as broomsticks. I pull a towel from a shelf and wrap it around my body. I am usually not shy around Risa, especially since we’ve seen each other naked dozens of times …
Chapter One—Throwaway Girls
Sept. 4, 2016 • Naomi Hirahara
“I guess we are throwaway girls,” Risa says, helping me to unpack one of my boxes. I do not know why it is taking her so long. That box has my special okonomiyaki cooking tools—my extra shiny and sharp spatulas, my special knives to slice cabbage extra thin. It will go into the cupboards of her tiny kitchen. Thankfully, Risa does not know how to cook anything, even a bowl of rice. “What is this?” Risa frowns, holding up a …
Chapter Twelve—Waiting Room
July 4, 2016 • Naomi Hirahara
“Okay, the grace period is over.” Sachi looked up from her Candy Crush game on her phone. “Huh?” Her BFF Leslie placed a forlorn hardboiled egg wrapped in cellophane and a carton of coconut water on the table. She sat across from Sachi in the outside courtyard of the hospital. “It’s been a month. With Scott I gave you a whole year, because, well, he was your husband and the love of your life. But this guy, this guy only …
Chapter Eleven—Making Connections
June 4, 2016 • Naomi Hirahara
“Here, drink.” Sachi’s hands were shaking. She was afraid that she would drop the water bottle and splash all over the paramedics’ blanket wrapped around her. But she was grateful to get some liquid in her to remove the taste of vomit from her mouth. Of all people to come to her side, Jag Griffin was the last person she expected. Yet here he was, his hair a bit in disarray, a smashed shag rug. She took a swig and …
Chapter Ten—The Innocents
May 4, 2016 • Naomi Hirahara
Surprisingly, after learning that her flirtatious relationship with Kenji the bodyguard was based on secrets and lies, Sachi felt liberated. She hadn’t even considered any kind of romance after her husband Scott had died, but here her heart and body had been willing and open. She just felt thankful that she learned the truth before she had gotten in deeper. She was still standing. And alive. From the hotel’s penthouse level, she took the elevator down to her room and …
Chapter Nine—Better Than She Seems
April 4, 2016 • Naomi Hirahara
The two Orange County detectives then left Sachi’s hotel room, taking Kenji the bodyguard with them. “We want to ask you more questions,” Detective Flanagan told Kenji. “We want a minute-by-minute account of what you were doing while you were away from Mr. Buck the evening he died.” Well, at least 27 or so of those minutes were with me at the hotel bar, thought Sachi. If only she could be transported back to that time when her biggest concern …
The Alan Hotel
March 15, 2016 • Naomi Hirahara
For journalists, there are stories, perhaps only a handful, that never leave you. That’s the way I feel about the Alan Hotel in Little Tokyo. It was almost a lifetime away, in 1986, when I was a foot soldier, or more officially a reporter, for The Rafu Shimpo Japanese American daily newspaper. I wore my long hair wild in perm, with bangs cut short so I could see. Seeing was important for a reporter—and what I was about to witness …
Chapter Eight—Personal Matters
March 4, 2016 • Naomi Hirahara
Jag Griffin sputtered like a malfunctioning garden hose. “Old lady, are you saying that I killed Craig Buck? You seemed incompetent before, but now I see that you’re delusional.” There were several of them in the hotel lobby, facing the two Orange County detectives. Jag continued to unleash a slew of insults Sachi’s way, but the one that stung was his first one. Old lady. Sachi was 61 years and seven months old. Yes, almost eligible for Social Security, but …
Chapter Seven—I Spy—You
Feb. 4, 2016 • Naomi Hirahara
Sachi never saw herself as an undercover agent type, but she definitely had to always chip away at the truth. She had been an emergency room nurse her whole professional life. Her job was to quickly size up a situation and to ask the right questions—“what did he eat today?” to the frantic mother with the vomiting child; “are you sure you’re not pregnant?” to the teenager who fainted in class; “did your husband drive you to the hospital?” to …
