Twins Aaron and Hayden Swann are fighting a corrupt government taken over by ultra right-wing Fundamentalist Christians in 2055 America. Each brother fights in his own way, Aaron with bullets, Hayden with words.
Twins Aaron and Hayden Swann are fighting a corrupt government taken over by ultra right-wing Fundamentalist Christians in 2055 America. Each brother fights in his own way, Aaron with bullets, Hayden with words.
Then one night their world is turned upside down when they are caught in a government sting and they must both flee north into the badlands between San Francisco and Canada, where the only safe haven is a place called The Plain of Bitter Honey, a refuge where heads of the Resistance operate. But the brothers don’t know that government agents are tracking them to the hiding place of the Resistance. Can they find the inner strength to survive?
Excerpt
At last, Aaron opened his eyes to find himself staring into eyes that were disturbing in their clarity. Those eyes bored into his; they seemed to dissolve all questions and all answers within their depth. They were the eyes of a man watching the trajectory of a stag leaping off a cliff, with more amusement than horror, but at the same time expressing sympathy for the stag.
“I’m sorry that I’ve put you in danger,” Aaron said. “I’ll never do it again. Packs?”
“Because you’ll give up these underground activities?”
“Because I’ll keep this shit far away from you.”
“Okay, packs.” Hayden hooked his little finger through Aaron’s and gave it a tug. He leaned forward and kissed Aaron on the lips—a loving, sensual kiss. Aaron didn’t resist. Considering our circumstances, Aaron thought, this might prove to be our last chance to show affection.
Hayden pulled back. “No matter what, I love you.”
“I know.”
“Yes, but I wanted to say it out loud, just once.”
Hayden squeezed Aaron’s hands with icy fingers. “What about this Julian fellow. Does he make you happy?” Aaron asked, already knowing the answer.
“Brother, have you forgotten the last chorus of Oedipus: Call no man happy until he is dead.”
Aaron nodded. “You writers are so full of shit.”
They kissed again before Aaron led his brother back into the living room. All eyes turned toward them.
“Listen up, people,” Aaron said. “It’s time for a hasty retreat. We’ll go over the roof in pairs, three minutes apart. Hopefully they’re not watching the alley. Stubbs, you take Maggie. Hayden, you and Julian can leave the way you came, but you’d better hurry.
We’ll meet up at the safe house in the Castro in three days time.”
Stubbs and Maggie checked their handguns; both clicked their safety off.
The Armenian hissed, “Van coming. Looks like Marwick’s.”
Aaron rushed to the window. A black van was too far down the hill to identify. He’s guessing, Aaron thought. He snatched the binoculars and waited. Seconds ticked by like months until the van moved close enough for him to check the license plate. His heart fell. He turned back to the room to see Stubbs and Maggie still standing at the doorway.
“Go dammit; go now.”
Stubbs took Maggie by the arm. They disappeared into the hallway.
“Hayden, Julian, change of plans,” Aaron said. “You both go over the roof.”
Aaron dashed to Hayden, pulled a Glock from his belt and held it out. “Things might get dicey. Take this.”
Hayden shook his head.
They glared at each other, and Aaron saw the emotions churning behind his brother’s eyes.
“Shit,” Aaron hissed, returning to the window. He dropped the Glock beside the mirror and his wallet. As he picked up the binoculars he wiped the sweat from his forehead before training the binoculars down the hill.
The van chugged up the street. When it reached the end of the block, the two Homeland HumVee-Xs dashed out of hiding, again, to block the road. The van stopped as four uniformed men jumped out of their vehicles. Two officers converged on the driver’s door, one barking orders and the other standing off with his gun drawn. The other two sauntered around the van, their M4s held at the ready. One officer walked to the driver’s door and shined a flashlight on the driver, no doubt asking to see I.D. cards. The driver’s window slid down; red flashes burst and shots rang out. The van sped backward, spraying more shots. From the rooftops on both sides of the street, spotlights sprang to life, casting theatrical beams on the van. Machinegun fire cut the air, pelting the van with red tracers from above.
There was no way to help them. Aaron waved at his team still standing in his living room. “Everybody! Go now, over the roof! GO!”
They all rushed out the doorway, except Hayden.
“Aren’t you coming?” Hayden asked.
“I’m right behind you.”
“Brother, I’m simple, not stupid.”
“Look, dammit, they’ll be here any second. Now go. Hurry!”
A crashing sound yanked Aaron’s head back to the window. The van spun out of control, smashed into a parked car, and flipped on its side. Bullets peppered the van for another half-minute. The noise sounded like a twelve-foot string of firecrackers. Then it stopped, leaving a stunned hush. No sign of life registered within the van. Two officers lay on the street, motionless. Smoke rose through the beams of spotlights, a shifting pall between the borders of light.
Suddenly, another noise cut the silence—the throaty growl of an engine starting below Aaron’s window. Aaron glanced down to see a man straddling his brother’s motorcycle. The lean figure and dreadlocks were unmistakable. Hayden gunned the engine to get everyone’s attention. The spotlights turned on him. He revved it once more and flew up the street in the opposite direction.
“What the…?” Aaron whispered to an empty room. On a hunch, he glanced at the coffee table, and his heart imploded. His brown wallet, which held his I.D. card, was missing. In its place was Hayden’s calf-skin wallet.
The screech of tires whipped Aaron’s head back to the street. Two HumVee-Xs now blocked Hayden’s exit. Uniformed men leaped from the vehicles with rifles drawn.
Hayden slid into a tight turn and gunned the engine, rocketing him the opposite direction. He bent low over the handlebars. But now he was barricaded in from both sides of the block. Hayden came to a dead stop in the middle of the block. The searchlights zeroed in on him, yellow and brilliant, catching him like Bambi in the headlights. Someone shouted in a throaty voice. Two officers on each side of the block dropped to one knee and raised their M4s to a firing position.
It appeared to be a stalemate.
Aaron knew his brother was drawing all the attention on himself to give Aaron a clean getaway, but before he could move the front door burst inward. Officers rushed in with weapons held at the ready.
“Freeze, motherfucker!”
The apartment lights were still off, but the glow of the spotlights outside, like artificial moonlight, filled the room. Aaron could see them clearly, five rifle laser-beams aimed at his chest. He slowly raised his hands.
Two of them held their weapons on him while the others searched the apartment.
Aaron didn’t hear the car as it pulled to the curb below his window, but he did hear the double thud of an expensive car door opening and closing, and the quick footsteps coming up the stairs. A man—designer-dressed in a black, double-breasted suit, hand-stitched cowboy boots, and a cartoonishly large, silver cross at his throat—strolled through the doorway and moved toward Aaron. Emblazoned on this lapel was the insignia of the Christian States of America, the red circle encompassing white stars and a blue cross, which never failed to turn Aaron’s stomach. The man’s Ray-Ban sunglasses riveted on Aaron, moving up and down as if he were measuring him for a coffin.
“Aaron Swann?” he demanded.
Aaron recognized his sleek and undertaker-pale features: Deputy-Chief Whitehall, head of Homeland Operations for the Western Division, and junior member of the Holy Council. Maggie had assembled a dossier on Whitehall with his photograph on the inside cover and details of his meteoric rise to power. So, Aaron thought, the big dogs are here. That’s a very bad sign. Rumor had it that Whitehall always came in on huge successes. His forty-year-old face was scrubbed, shining and as animated as a Broadway actor. He pushed his shades up to rest in his platinum-colored hair. His eyes glowed with excitement, and his voice resonated a confident chill.
“No,” Aaron managed to say, having no idea of how he would pull off the bluff.
“Very slowly, show me your I.D. card.”
That’s when it hit him. He swallowed. “In my wallet, there on the coffee table.”
Whitehall picked up the wallet, removed Hayden’s I.D. card, and scrutinized the picture and the information it held. A flashlight illuminated Aaron’s face; he couldn’t see anything.
“You’re Hayden Swann?”
Aaron swallowed again. He had religiously lived by the motto of ‘look out for #1,’ but his brother was the sole exception to that rule. They were two halves of the same person, linked by an indefinable force. The decision seemed to flicker before Aaron like a candle-flame held close to his eyes, and in spite of the fact that he knew he was putting a noose around his brother’s neck, he whispered, “Yessir.”
A silence followed, as if he had caught Whitehall off balance, which was surprising that anything could do that. Whitehall had a reputation of being the rock on which his church was built.
“Am I led to believe that that would be your brother, Aaron, on the motorcycle?”
Alerted by his use of the passive voice, Aaron hesitated. He felt a cold drop of sweat slide from under his armpit and meandered down his flank. He closed his eyes.
“Not to worry,” Whitehall said, “Jesus protects us all.”
Aaron opened his eyes, blinked twice. Had he heard right? The silver cross ticked at Whitehall’s throat as he swallowed.
“Yes,” Aaron said.
“Where are the others?”
“What others?”
“Stubbs, Maggie, The Armenian? And your boyfriend, Julian Stoller?”
Aaron supposed he should have been surprised that Whitehall knew them all by name, even the fact that he knew Hayden’s boyfriend’s name when Aaron had only learned minutes ago, but he wasn’t. Whitehall and his team had obviously had them in their sights for some time.
Whitehall used his flashlight to illuminate the Glock sitting beside the cocaine. He seemed on the verge of saying something else, but changed his mind. He flipped open his communicator and barked a coded order Aaron didn’t understand.
At that moment a shot rang out in the street. Aaron half-turned to see his brother jerk forward. The officers were firing quite carefully. The second shot thrust Hayden backward. But he still moved, still straddled the bike. He gunned the engine and the bike leaped forward as officers fired more rounds. Hayden sagged over the handlebars. The motorcycle went down, sliding before an array of sparks.
When Hayden tumbled to a halt, the spotlights bore down on him again. His body lay motionless in the cheap yellow light. Aaron’s insides felt like a windowpane that had shattered, and through the shards of what had once been his life—his orthodoxy—he mumbled a bewildering cry.
For Hayden’s sake, Aaron prayed to God that his brother was dead.
Professional Reviews
Echo Magazine - Bob Lind
THE PLAIN OF BITTER HONEY by Alan Chin
(Bold Strokes Books, June 2013, $16.95 softcover)
Take a look at America in the year 2055. The fundamentalist Christians have taken over, and have brought government corruption to a frightening level. Banks failed, farms stopped producing, free enterprise no longer existed, and inflation made food and all goods a luxury. Rich people fled the United States in droves, until the government began to forbid it. Poor people, along with racial and religious minorities, and anyone gay or lesbian, were banished to guarded "slums" located in various locations, including what used to be The Castro in San Francisco. Most Americans felt powerless to do anything but comply, with the exception of a silent group of resistance fighters, which the government spent countless time and resources to try to destroy.
It is in this context that we meet Aaron Swann, a longtime resistance fighter, and his twin brother, Hayden. Hayden is gay, a lot less militant, but admires the work his brother does, and worries about him. When the government forces ambush Aaron's group, while Hayden was visiting, he takes off on his motorcycle to divert the attention of the attackers, and ends up in jail, where they believe he is Aaron. Aaron and his supporters vow to break Hayden out of jail, and then they can all retreat north along the coast, to a secret hideout of the resistance known as The Plain of Bitter Honey. The trip won't be easy, with the government monitoring their every move with a secret tracking device. They'll also need to contend with the Caliban, a rogue group of fierce cannibalistic fighters who control most of the land north of the Bay Area.
I've said in the past that Alan Chin is my favorite author, and that is still the case with this new book. It is best described as a sci-fi/speculative/political novel, so unlike any of his previous works I have seen, and he handles the genre with mastery. The story is action-packed, well-constructed and expertly told, with a diverse, developed cast of gay and straight characters working together in situations that risks not only their lives, but perhaps the future of this country. Bravo … five stars out of five.
- Bob Lind, Echo Magazine
Gay Author's Review
The Plain of Bitter Honey by Alan Chin
Posted by Cia, 24 May 2013 · 77 views
This story was full; full of danger and peace, hatred and love, bravery and fear. I want to go on and on about the story, but I absolutely refuse to post any type of a spoiler at all. To be honest, this book sat on my to read shelf for a while because I expected there to be a lot of philosophical treatise and political ranting.
What I found was an emotional tale with intriguing characters ... mixed with some philosophical and political ranting. However, it only came in when it was relevant to the story and to the character's motivations and personalities. I never felt lectured, I felt enlightened. The romance wasn't very prominent, but I found I didn't really need it.
That isn't to say that this wasn't a great, entertaining story just to read for fun. If you're fond of dystopian style plots, you'll love this. It doesn't have anything really 'new' but what the author chose to include in the story was very real. There was a great action theme and some serious suspense. With so many elements to include, the weaving along the plot arc could have become muddled, but I felt that it was seamless.
Now, before this appears to be all vague and general praise ... there were a few flaws. I found the minor protagonist's journeyof self to have taken too abrupt of a U-turn. I also would have liked to have seen the endingof the story a bit more drawn out. It felt like the climax wasn't quite ... climactic. Still, I enjoyed this story immensely. I've already recommended it to several friends who have placed it on their to buy shelves.
A solid 4.5 rating from me, and I've definitely found an author I wasn't sure of to add to my buy list myself.
5 of 5 stars
bookshelves: currently-reading, arc, futuristic-urban-fantasy,mm, netgalley, dystopia
Read from April 29 to May 31, 2013
This is no mere flash-in-the-pan "novel" that one can read through hurriedly in one sitting. This book should savored like fine wine, something to appreciate so one can get the full experience of the subtle layers of flavors that can further intensify the pleasure.
The Plain Bitter of Honey by Alan Chin is about twins Aaron and Hayden Swann who are fighting a corrupt government taken over by ultra right-wing Fundamentalist Christians in 2055 America. Each brother fights in his own way, Aaron with bullets, Hayden with words. Then one night their world is turned upside down when they are caught in a government sting and they must both flee north into the badlands between San Francisco and Canada, where the only safe haven is a place called The Plain of Bitter Honey, a refuge where heads of the Resistance operate. But the brothers don’t know that government agents are tracking them to the hiding place of the Resistance. Can they find the inner strength to survive?
How does one even attempt to write a review on a book that is essentially larger than anything I have read of the MM genre? For starters, the title confused me because there was an obvious play of words involved and it was only towards the end of the book did I realize, belatedly, the why's of this play. Then there was the genre: MM. Why this is this genre escaped me again for the longest time, as this did not fit the general picture I have in mind based on the hundreds of MM books I had read. Again, it was towards the end of the book did I realize the whys.
This book took me some time to read not because of the length of the story. Instead, I found myself putting it down from time to time whenever I encountered something that was thought provoking. There were so many philosophical ideas and ideals thrown when turning the pages. I started comparing Hayden to Rizal, a national hero who brought down a government by the mere strength of his pen and Whitehall to Al Capone.
This is, for me at least, the story of Aaron who is caught in a dystopic world of a futuristic hypocritical America. This is really his journey from a plain soldier of the resistance to maturity. He h as an idea, but really knows nothing, of philosophy or how words can be mightier than a sword. His actions result to a disastrous turn of events that lead his and Hayden’s life to danger, along with the rest of the resistance. His continued struggle with guilt and how to make up for it spurs him to go on, even if it meant risking his own life to ensure his brother’s safety. It was through their journey to The Plain of Bitter Honey that he finally realizes that sometimes, in order to win a war, using counter-violence may not be the most obvious and easiest choice. It is through this learning that Aaron finally finds his resolution and through this process, realizes his potential.
The Plain Bitter of Honey was bittersweet and, although I did not initially like how it ended, I found that it would not matter that it ended where it did. There was no other way but to end it that way. It is only after this end and some time to think things over would the readers eventually realize why I say this. This is the first time that I have read Alan Chin and I am very happy that I have finally done so. I now see the reason why he has won literary awards. His words are thought provoking, if I may repeat myself. That may sound cliché, however, no other words come to mind presently. Do I recommend this book? The 5 Stars rating is an obvious recommendation.
Warning: The Plain Bitter of Honey is not for readers who are looking for an HEA or an HFN ending. The heat rating is zero (0) so do not expect the usual scenes.
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