Honolulu homicide detective Kimo Kanapa'aka is dragged out of the closet while investigating a dangerous case.
Coming out can be murder-- especially if you're a closeted homicide detective, and you stumble on a dead body while leaving a gay bar in the early hours of the morning.
When Kimo Kanapa'aka finally faces his fears and decides to visit a Honolulu gay bar, he doesn't realize that his life is about to change forever. Investigating this case will expose the seamy side of life in paradise and start him on a path of self-discovery, sex and romance.
The books have a real flavor of the Hawaiian islands, from food to music to surfing. I hope you'll enjoy Mahu and the rest of the series: Mahu Surfer, Mahu Fire and Mahu Vice.
Excerpt
I was almost through my second Primo when a guy came up to me. I was still dressed in my moke outfit, still hadn’t shaved. He was tall and thin, gawky as a giraffe, his head shaved so that only a blond stubble remained. He almost passed me, then leaned up close to my ear and whispered, “I like it rough.” His tongue grazed the outside of my ear.
I shivered, and pushed away. Suddenly I knew I had to get out. If I didn’t I’d do something, I wasn’t sure what. I might follow the giraffe into a back room, or punch his lights out, or tear off my clothes and jump up onto a table and dance. I dropped my empty bottle on a table and nearly ran for the door.
Outside, I stood next to a lamp post, gulping moist warm air. I was almost ready to start home when I heard the sound of somebody dragging something down the alley. I heard a car door open and then slam closed, and then a black Jeep Cherokee swung out of the alley behind the club, fishtailing a bit as the driver made his turn. I figured the driver was probably running away from somebody he’d met at the bar. I knew how he felt.
Martin Powers wanted an ironing board for Christmas. Instead, he got . . . Matthew Kieler, a non-returnable gift, but a gift that kept on giving. A powerful tale of survival, compassion and unapologetic love in the time of AIDS.
‘I have to go back soon,’ says Adam one afternoon. Yes, I know he has to go back soon. He has to go back to London and to his job and his apprenticeship. He has taken the maximum number of days leave – he has taken his entire Summer holiday in the Sp
