I
had a few half-written novels tucked inside my desk drawer when one night the
idea for my Amish Series struck me. I literally jumped out of bed and began
writing a synopsis. Sixteen pages evolved into more than two-hundred, and six
months later I had my first completed manuscript, Between Two Worlds. The
sequel, Between Two Promises, followed five months later.
I
cannot explain what compelled me to finish the Amish Series while I had four
unfinished novels still begging for my attention. I suppose I felt a deeper
connection with the characters in my Amish Series. I have always been fascinated
with the subsistent lifestyle of the Amish and how, in most cases, they eschew
government aid. They are virtually a stateless people.
For
several years I had been searching for books about the subject of the Amish and
homosexuality. Other than the typical banal nonsense, I found nothing. That’s
when I decided if I want to read something about homosexuality inside the Amish
community I’d have to write the book myself.
Between
Two Promises continues with the story of Aiden and Daniel, two lovers lost
between two worlds. Neither belong anywhere. Aiden is agnostic and gay, yet
fails to follow the typical gay tenets. He feels a stronger bridge with the
Amish community than with his progressive Chicago neighborhood. Daniel, Amish
and gay, similarly struggles with his identity inside his austere community. I
draw a parallel between the Amish and the gay communities. While they may seem
as opposite as two cultures can be, both have their own strict set of “ordnungs”
one must obey to fit in. I enjoyed exploring the theme of “man versus society.”
Post-modern society has, in many ways, gobbled up the individual. I struggled
alongside my characters to find a place where they can be individuals while
fighting off the thorns of conformity.
Blurb:
Daniel
Schrock and Aiden Cermak have forged a life in the rural Montana foothills, but
a shadow still lingers, made stronger when a letter arrives from Daniel's
brother Mark inviting him to his Christmas wedding. Daniel fears returning home
might force what he wants to avoid: telling his family about Aiden and facing
the dreaded Amish shunning.
Despite
the uncertainties, Daniel and Aiden head to Illinois, where frustration will not
only endanger Daniel's relationship with his family and the church community,
but his bond with his boyfriend, who leaves Daniel with a choice: him or the
Amish. Before Daniel can stop Aiden, he's gone... and threats from the past
resurface, crystallizing Daniel's fears about a murderer still at
large.
As
he desperately searches for Aiden and the identity of the suspected killer,
Daniel will have to decide if love is important enough to risk losing everything
he knows. Will Daniel choose to keep his commitment to the Amish church or will
he stand by the promise he made to Aiden that first night they made
love?
Excerpt:
The
Harvest Sunrise Inn Bed and Breakfast was a converted Victorian farmhouse on the
southern outskirts of Henry. A sense of repression settled over Aiden as he and
Daniel stepped inside the lobby. Decorated with rich, ornate furnishings, the
inn contrasted sharply with the surrounding simple farmland.
But
the unease pestering him came more from Daniel than the old house itself. While
Daniel checked in at the front desk, Aiden worried Daniel was embarrassed about
their sharing a room together. The innkeeper seemed unconcerned. With a kindly
smile on his chubby face, he handed them a key and showed them the way to their
room on the first floor.
The
first things Aiden noticed were the two separate twin beds.
“Was
this the only room they had when you made reservations?” Aiden asked once the
innkeeper had left.
Daniel
ignored his question. He tossed his suitcase onto one of the beds and began
stuffing his clothes into the drawers of a cherry dresser.
Sachets
of clover- and vanilla-scented potpourri lay on the pillows. Bowtie quilts were
tri-folded at the bottom of each of the beds. Aiden thought it was all very
quaint; perhaps too quaint for him and Daniel. Aiden understood how awkward
staying at the Schrocks’ would’ve been, but he wondered if Daniel had purposely
reserved a room with two beds instead of one.
“Maybe
we can push the beds together,” Aiden said, letting his laptop case slide off
his arm onto the other bed. He set his black duffel bag with the wide turquoise
stripe that seemed to always annoy Daniel on the twill carpet.
“We
should leave the beds as they are,” Daniel said after a pause.
“I’m
sure the innkeepers won’t mind,” Aiden said. “We can move them apart before we
check out next week.”
Daniel
completed unpacking. “That won’t be a good idea.”
Aiden
watched Daniel yank off his boots and nudge them against the canary yellow wall
by the door. When he failed to say anything further, Aiden said, “Daniel, I want
you to promise me you won’t brush me aside during our stay here.”
Without
looking at him, Daniel said, “What do you mean, brush you aside? If you’re
expecting me, in front of everyone, to take you in my arms and—”
“No,
I don’t expect that, Daniel. But, please, don’t ignore me. Don’t treat me like I
don’t exist.”
“Of
course I wouldn’t do that.”
Aiden
felt achy and tired. The long three-day journey from Montana had sapped his
energy. They had driven near straight through, without stopping for sightseeing.
Each morning by six, they were on the road. Snow through much of Minnesota and
Iowa had made traveling slow and stressful. Supper with the Schrocks had gone
smoothly enough. There was so much commotion in the house with preparations for
Mark’s wedding, the baby, and visiting relatives that little focus seemed to be
on him. He had been both relieved and disillusioned. Had he expected
more?
When
Daniel had presented the family with the furniture Daniel had crafted without
saying they were from the both of them, including the stuffed animals Aiden had
filled Gretchen’s toy chest with, Aiden had flinched. Already he felt pushed
into the background, like the bare-limbed elms and hickories of the harsh winter
landscape.
One
concession was Samuel. He’d seemed sincerely repentant for having tossed Aiden
out of Henry last year. Aiden was glad they’d put past unpleasantness aside, at
least tacitly. Maybe the Amish do have a sense of forgiveness others lacked,
Aiden considered. He tried to gather contentment from that thought while he
unpacked in silence.
He
wanted to mention his musings to Daniel but decided not to. Daniel’s brusque
expression suggested he carried his own worrisome notions on his shoulders.
Instead, Aiden edged behind Daniel while he hung his Sunday Amish suit in a
closet.
Daniel’s
muscles twitched under Aiden’s kneading fingers. Daniel relaxed and roved around
his neck. Aiden hoped massaging him would assuage any hurt between them. “How’s
that?”
“Feels
good,” Daniel said.
Aiden
walked his fingers down the side of Daniel’s neck and reached his hand over
Daniel’s shirt, the one Aiden had bought for his birthday in August, and began
unfastening the buttons. Daniel’s firm pectoral muscles twitched. He caressed
his rippling abdominal muscles, naturally built from years of manual labor. He
stood up on his toes and swiped his tongue across Daniel’s ear.
“Best
be careful, people might hear,” Daniel said. “I got relatives staying
here.”
“No
one will hear behind these old sturdy walls.”
“Sill
not proper, not here.”
Aiden
sighed. “You know, Daniel, I don’t like hiding things.”
“Hiding?”
Daniel nudged Aiden’s hand from his chest, sat on the edge of the twin bed he
had claimed, and rebuttoned his shirt. “What are we hiding?”
“We’re
hiding who we are.”
“Aiden,
not that again.”
“I
know how hard coming out to your family would be. But how fair is it to pretend,
to either of us, to go on hiding like this? How long will we have to do
it?”
“You
act like you’re the only one who never hides things.” Daniel lay back on his bed
and eyed Aiden. “You’re not always so open.”
Aiden
plopped down on the quilt beside him. “What do you mean? When have I ever hidden
anything?”
“What
about those threatening messages you got last year when you still lived in
Henry?” Daniel said. “You never told me anything about those until after we ran
into each other in Glacier. You kept that from me for how long?”
Aiden
rolled to his back and stared at the ceiling. He’d been leery when he’d first
told Daniel about those threats. Shortly after Aiden had saved the Schrocks from
the drunk driver, he had accepted a position with The Henry Blade, the
town’s only newspaper. While there, he uncovered the suicide of a
seventeen-year-old Amish youth from eight years before, Daniel’s second cousin,
Kyle Yoder. His subsequent investigation into the unusual death led Aiden to
believe he had been murdered. Pressure from his boss about the investigation
forced Aiden to resign from the newspaper. But not before he received three
mysterious threats. He guessed the threats most likely stemmed from his
investigation into Kyle’s death. Either that or someone in the community
suspected Aiden of being gay and resented him.
After
their unexpected encounter at Glacier National Park in June, Aiden had shown
Daniel the stored pictures of the threats he’d taken with his digital camera.
The pumpkin someone had smashed against his bungalow and the message someone had
spray painted in red block lettering on his front door: GET OUT OF TOWN. And
there was the note someone had left in his mailbox with the same threatening
message as the one on his door, punctuated with the homophobic, although
archaic, name-calling “to the Sodomite.”
In
typical Amish fashion, Daniel had remained impassive while he examined the
photos. When he finished, he handed Aiden the camera without a word. But the
mechanisms in Daniel’s mind were churning. His temples crinkled with thick,
twine-like veins, his eyebrows fused together. And the incessant beard-tugging.
Ultimately, he seemed to want to forget Aiden had ever mentioned it; bury
another ugly reality under a mound of dirt.
And
in that case, Aiden agreed.
“Totally
different situation,” Aiden said, leaning on his elbow to stare at Daniel’s
terse face. “We weren’t even together then. Besides, you already had enough
burdens with me digging up Kyle’s death. I decided to show you those stupid
threats so many months later because… well, I didn’t want any secrets between
us. There wasn’t anything you could’ve done about it anyway.”
Daniel
glared at Aiden. “There was a lot I coulda done.” He pushed himself off the bed
and, grabbing a handful of bedclothes from the dresser, marched into the
bathroom.
Bio:
Shelter
Somerset enjoys writing about the lives of people who live off the land, whether
they be the Amish, nineteenth-century pioneers, or modern-day idealists seeking
to live apart from the crowd. Shelter’s fascination with the rustic, aesthetic
lifestyle began as a child with family camping trips into the Blue Ridge
Mountains. When not back home in Illinois writing, Shelter continues to explore
America’s expansive backcountry and rural communities. Shelter’s philosophy is
best summed up by the actor John Wayne: "Courage is being scared to death but
saddling up anyway."
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