His crime fiction book, Deviant Acts, was released by Black Opal books in November, and was followed by his Historical Fiction book, Nisei, in 2016. He was recently nominated for the Pushcart Prize for his short piece, Tour Bus. He lives in Merritt Island, Florida with his understanding wife and editor, Pamela.
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About the Book
Local award winning author brings history to life on the pages of Nisei, a passionate tale of life after a pearl Harbor for a Japanese American man.
After the attack on Pearl Harbor, the United States government encouraged all eligible young men to enlist immediately in the fight against its enemies overseas. All eligible young men except Japanese-Americans. Nisei is the story of Hideo Bobby Takahashi, a Hawaiian-born Japanese-American who must overcome prejudice, internment, and the policies of his own government to prove his loyalty to his country. Narrated by Bobby Takahashi and read by his son, Robert, 46 years after Bobby’s death, the story details the young Nisei’s determination to fight honorably for his country and return to the young love he was forced to leave, a girl he cannot have because she is white.
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Keep reading for an excerpt:
Mrs. Yamamoto walked into the room with a very large revolver that she seemed to have difficulty holding. Hoo boy, my heart raced. I glanced over to Fatso who was fumbling with the leather latch on his holster. Just as he got his gun out, Mrs. Yamamoto lifted the pistol and fired. A huge roar filled the room, so I covered my ears to try to stop the ringing.
Tillman fell back against a bloody wall, his jaw and right eye blown off his face and pasted across his hair. He looked pretty dead as he slid down the corner of the wall and onto the floor.
“Jesus! Jesus!” Rodgers said and unlatched his holster. Mrs. Yamamoto aimed the barrel at Rodgers and he stopped.
“Tell him to put his hand down, Hideo,” she said to me in Japanese, but I barely heard her over the ringing in my ears. I told Rodgers and he did. Mrs. Yamamoto sat in the chair across from us and kept the gun on him. I was plenty scared. She spoke slowly, for me, I think.
“This was my husband’s pistol,” she began. “When he died in the Russian war, the generals gave me his gun. It was much like the samurai many years before; the widow receives the sword of the fallen warrior.” She stopped to sip some tea. She looked at Agent Rodgers. “Japan has existed for thousands of years. Do you think we would let a bully like America tell us what we can and cannot have? Who do you think you are? You do not deserve to rule beside the Emperor. You do not deserve to drink his piss!”
Mrs. Yamamoto stood, pointed the gun at herself, and then placed her thumb on the trigger. She bowed slightly to me and placed her mouth over the end of the barrel. Agent Rodgers reached out for the revolver, but too late. Mrs. Yamamoto pushed the trigger and her head exploded. I cried out from the pain in my ears, it hurt so badly. Blood and brain matter covered the drapes hanging behind her. I leaned over the side of the futon and vomited on Fatso Tillman’s leg.