I’m so glad you’re here. My name is Saffron Skye, and I’m in some trouble. I could use your help. I’ve heard that you have solved a lot of crimes with a lot of different sleuths, and that you’re great at reading clues and finding culprits.

Let me fill you in. I’m an egg farmer (it’s still a little new for me to say that) and an event planner. When I woke up this morning, I thought I was just going down to the Kahuna Kalai, a prestigious tiki carving competition that I’ve been in charge of organizing. The world’s best tiki carvers are creating sculptures, masks, mugs and pendants, right here in our little Hawaiian town—Maika’i. I thought that today I’d see wood shavings flying and tiki faces emerging from blocks of wood. What I didn’t think I’d see was a body.

But that’s what happened. I left my peaceful egg farm with a hen in my backpack. (Don’t worry. It’s a special hen carrier. Her name’s Cupcake. She’s a little needy right now, so she insists on being with me.) When I got to the stretch of golden sand where the competition was being held, I found a dead man.

That was a shock. But after all the crimes you’ve solved, I bet you’re used to finding bodies.

I’m not used to it yet, though it has now happened an uncomfortable amount of times. I’m used to hauling feed to my hens and gathering a rainbow of eggs. I’m used to snorkeling with my new boyfriend, a surfer named Nik. I’m used to popping into Juno’s Bakery for a hot, pillowy malasada—a Hawaiian donut with coconut custard filling. I’m used to watching the azure waves chase each other along sand the color of sunshine. That’s how my days usually go.

The ocean is a thousand shades of blue. This little Hawaiian town has taught me that and so many other things. Like the fact that chickens each have individual personalities and that they’re useful companions when you’re trying to solve a murder.

Niether chickens nor murder were very common in my previous life, when I was living in Washington DC. But ever since I moved here to the sleepy island town of Maika’i to run my late uncle’s egg farm, I’ve been surrounded by both.

First, it was the oldest man in town. Nobody believed that he’d been murdered. They thought he just died of natural causes. But I knew, when I found him sprawled over a wheelbarrow among the emerald and jade bushes by my egg house, that there had been fowl play.

Sorry. Sometimes I make chicken jokes now.

And he wasn’t the only one. I’ve suddenly found myself investigating the death of a groom, a gangster, and the meanest woman I’ve ever met. And now the slightly obnoxious (but not so much that you think someone would kill him) reporter Chip Gaither, who always introduced himself with his name and the Boston TV station he works for, as if he were signing on: “Chip Gaither, KBEN—The Bean!” The way he crowed it out at you was a little startling. But not so startling as seeing him this morning with his skin pale lavender instead of the ruddy clay color it was when I saw him yesterday. There was something unusual about the chisel sticking out of his chest.

See, I’ve always had an eye for details. Part of that is because I’m an event planner, and details are my job. Part of that is also because I’m tetrachromatic: that means instead of the one million shades of color that most people can see, I can see one hundred million shades. Sometimes that’s awesome. Sometimes, not so much. And sometimes it means I can see things other people miss.

I have got to get this one figured out. My best friend, a 68-year-old carver named Mano, may be blamed for the murder. The one cop in town, Officer Bradley, is swamped and more than a little apathetic. So if this thing is going to get solved, I’m going to have to do it.

What I know so far: the victim was killed in the middle of the night. In a carver’s tent. With a chisel that happened to belong to Mano.

What I don’t know: who actually killed him? Why did they kill him? Why did they have Mano’s chisel?

I hear that you have a great eye for detail, too, so I thought maybe you’d join me as I gather some evidence and find out who killed Chip Gaither, KBEN—The Bean!

Because that’s what my hen and I are doing today.

You can read more about Saffron in Home To Roost, the fifth book in the “Aloha Chicken” cozy mystery series, coming June 28, 2019.

Hens and homicides in a cozy slice of paradise.

The world’s most prestigious tiki carving championship has come to Maikai, the cozy little Hawaiian town where Saffron Skye runs her egg farm and Brightblossom Events.

Saffron’s friend Mano is participating in the Kahuna Kalai Championships to determine who is the world’s best tiki carver. Saffron is in charge of the ten-day event, and from the beginning, she is chipping away at mysteries.

First, the tikis are changing. Carvers are complaining that the masks and mugs they carved yesterday don’t look the same today. Is it tiki magic or something more sinister? The judges suspect Mano, and Saffron has three days to clear his name.

But before she can, the championship is interrupted by a terrible discovery: the body of a news reporter. Can Saffron and her broody hen, Cupcake, whittle down the suspects and find the killer?

Home to Roost: Book 5 in the Aloha Chicken Mysteries series of cozy-clean reads . . . with chickens.

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Meet the author
Josi Avari is a mountain girl who found the ocean. She discovered the inspiration for the Aloha Chicken Mysteries while on a writing retreat in a cozy little Hawaiian paradise where she met a feral hen and her chicks.

Josi has a flock of her own, filled with zany chicken characters that flap and squawk their way into her novels. When she’s not tapping out stories, she’s tossing treats to her hens or creating scrumptious Hawaiian food in her kitchen. She has been known to chase down Hawaiian food trucks on foot.

Visit Josi’s Facebook page for more information.

All comments are welcomed.