"The Sound of Hilo Rain," by Roy Kodani (Watermark Publishing, $16.95)

In his heartwarming memoir "The Sound of Hilo Rain," Roy Kodani conveys his fondness for the community of his boyhood, a small town on the Big Island where "life was simple and the choices were few. " Not much has changed today, he writes. "The quaintness of Hilo lies in the fact that its soul remains tied to the 1940s and 1950s, even with the coming of large Mainland stores."

The author, an international attorney, grew up "surrounded by people, specifically nikkeijin (Americans of Japanese ancestry), with sound values that shaped young people’s lives forever."

Permeating Kodani’s stories is the joy that comes from innocence and an appreciation of simple things, when a high point was going to a swimming hole with his buddies or getting a new Schwinn bike for a birthday. But he also captures an unenlightened era when neighbors and police turned a blind eye to wife-beating; or when people were so horrified by Hansen’s disease that a victim’s relatives were shamed and shunned.

Kodani recounts the heartbreak of a family who allowed everyone to believe their beloved little boy just disappeared into the night, living with a lie that destroyed their lives rather than letting anyone know the child had contracted Hansen’s disease, also known as leprosy, and had been shipped off to Kalaupapa, Molokai.

Kodani personalizes the terror of the 1946 tsunami through the eyes of residents of Laupahoehoe, where 23 elementary school students and four teachers perished, and of his father and uncle, who watched the monstrous waves engulf Hilo Bay.

Hilo is frequently showered by rain, but whether it’s fierce or gentle — as with the hallmarks of life — the sound, Kodani says, reflects the "unconscious soul" of the town.

"Then I Met You," by Deborah C. Wilding (Wild Rose Press, $15.99)

An interracial romance is the pivot point of Deborah C. Wilding’s suspense/love story, set on the threshold of World War II when Honolulu high society looked down at that sort of intermingling.

Heiress Merrylei Wentworth falls in love with Jamison Sumida, an architect of Japanese ancestry, awakening her conscience. "I grew up attending private schools, mostly all-white, but never really joining in activities outside my own fair-haired clique, even when there was the chance. I always believed in equality for all races, though as I looked back I wondered if I had always shown it."

Early in their romance, Japan bombs Pearl Harbor and everything is thrown into upheaval. All Japanese residents fall under suspicion; some are thrown into internment camps. Sumida, who is not interned, gets involved in helping those who are arrested. Meanwhile, a series of mysterious break-ins at Wentworth’s home leads her to suspect a scare tactic by someone she knows.

Wilding is the pen name of Big Island author Deborah Uchida. Under a previous title, "In a Sea of Change," this book won the 2013 Daphne du Maurier Award for excellence in mystery/suspense in the unpublished category.

"Repotting Can Be Such a Bitch," by Jack Cione (Hagadone Publishing, $19.95)

In the 1970s, Honolulu nightclub impresario Jack Cione tapped into a market of frisky women of a certain age by providing naked waiters to serve them at his restaurant and club, The Dunes. The special of the day was tipping the waiter by slipping a tightly folded $5 bill around "that large branch" under his apron — to use one of Cione’s more gracious euphemisms in his new book, "Repotting Can Be Such a Bitch."

The memoir examines how Cione has reinvented — or repotted — himself through several careers by finding needs and filling them. The format is that of a scrapbook packed with vintage newspaper clippings, risque photos and shots of Cione with Hollywood celebrities.

Cione’s previous book, "What Do You Say to a Naked Waiter?" threw a national spotlight on the flaunting of morality and the law at Honolulu skin clubs he owned, including the Forbidden City.

At age 87 the dauntless showman is still selling it, now at the Arcadia Retirement Residence. Every year he stages splashy music and comedy revues with his fellow residents, presenting ways to have fun before the curtain falls on their final act.