Author Terry Hill Exposes the Dark Side of Atlanta's Black Elite in "The Resistance"
Published November 6, 2026 at 10:30 AM EST
Author Terry E. Hill. (Photo courtesy of Terry E. Hill)
OAKLAND, CA— In The Resistance, the new political thriller by Terry E. Hill, Atlanta’s Black upper class becomes the backdrop for a dangerous argument about power and accountability. Natalie Harris, the city’s first lady, is an attentive mother and influential partner to her mayoral husband. She also secretly leads a group of women who target powerful people they believe have harmed vulnerable residents. The novel raises an unsettling question: What happens when those who claim to defend the community place themselves above the law?
For Hill, the story grows out of decades spent observing institutions from the inside. A Southern California native who studied sociology at Cal State Los Angeles, he worked with homeless families and survivors of abuse before directing San Francisco’s Mayor’s Office on Homelessness. Over more than 25 years in social services, Hill also held leadership positions at nonprofits in Santa Monica and San Francisco, relocating to the Bay Area in 1995. His literary accomplishments are equally substantial. Come Sunday Morning was selected among the Sankofa Literary Society’s five best fiction books of 2012; later books in his Sunday Morning trilogy appeared on AALBC and Black Expressions bestseller lists. The trilogy was acquired by more than 10,000 libraries worldwide. Hill followed those novels with The Committee, a political thriller published in 2015.
In an exclusive interview with NEGRO DIGEST, the Oakland-based novelist discusses his path to fiction, the appeal and contradictions of Black political power, the responsibilities of men and women, and why even the pursuit of justice demands accountability.
INTERVIEW: TERRY E. HILL
From Public Service to Fiction
NEGRO DIGEST: You’re originally from Southern California. Where specifically were you raised, and what was your household like? Who most shaped your understanding of faith, ambition, and responsibility to other Black people?
Terry E. Hill: I’m from Southern California, and the Black church was a big part of my upbringing. It was where I first saw how faith, ambition, community, and responsibility could all come together—and sometimes clash. My family and the people around me taught me that we have a responsibility to look out for one another, especially people whose voices are often ignored.
NEGRO DIGEST: Your biography mentions Cal State Los Angeles and a career in social services. What did you study, and why did you initially choose work serving homeless people and women and children experiencing abuse?
Terry E. Hill: I studied sociology at Cal State Los Angeles, and trained briefly to be a minister at Biola University. Social services felt like a natural fit for me because I wanted to do work that directly helped people. After college, I became associate executive director of a nonprofit in Santa Monica that served homeless people and women and children experiencing abuse. I wanted to be close to the community and help turn compassion into something practical.
NEGRO DIGEST: You later directed San Francisco’s Mayor’s Office on Homelessness. When did you hold that position, under which administration, and what could you accomplish from inside government that you could not accomplish outside it?
Terry E. Hill: I moved to the Bay Area in 1995 to run a social-services agency in San Francisco, and later I became director of the city’s Mayor’s Office on Homelessness. I advised the mayor, the Board of Supervisors, and city departments on homelessness and poverty. Being inside government gave me a seat at the table. I could help bring agencies together and shape policy on a larger scale than I could from the nonprofit side alone.
NEGRO DIGEST: Your publisher describes you as a political strategist. What has that work involved—campaigns, policy, advising elected officials—and is it still part of your professional life?
Terry E. Hill: My political work really grew out of my background in public policy and social services. A lot of it involved advising elected officials and city departments on homelessness and poverty and learning firsthand how policy gets made, negotiated, and put into practice. That experience still shows up in my fiction because I’m fascinated by power, institutions, and what goes on behind closed doors. I eventually left politics to focus on writing, but I’m still very much a political observer.
“I’m fascinated by power, institutions, and what goes on behind closed doors. I eventually left politics to focus on writing, but I’m still very much a political observer.” — Terry E. Hill
NEGRO DIGEST: When did you begin writing fiction, and what convinced you that the experiences you were accumulating belonged in novels? Who helped you get your first book published?
Terry E. Hill: I started writing almost by accident when I was in my early forties. I was sitting in church one Sunday, telling someone about a scandal at another church, and they said, “You should write a book.” So I did. That first manuscript had plenty of problems, but once I started writing, I was hooked. I had finally found a creative outlet that felt right for me. After hundreds of rejections, I found an agent who saw something in the book. She gave me honest advice, I revised it, and when I sent it back, she said, “Now this is something I can sell.” That journey led to my first novel, Come Sunday Morning. My years in church, politics, and social services had given me a lot to draw from, and fiction gave me a way to explore the truths that people don’t always say out loud.
Black Power and Atlanta’s Elite
NEGRO DIGEST: When did the idea for The Resistance first take shape? What came first: Natalie Harris, the women’s organization, or the question of what happens when established institutions fail?
Terry E. Hill: The big question came first: What happens when the systems that are supposed to protect people keep failing them? Natalie grew out of that. Once I pictured this polished political wife who also had the training and nerve to act outside the system, the rest started coming together. I didn’t want her to be a lone superhero, so the Resistance became a group of strong women who could challenge one another as much as they challenged their targets.
NEGRO DIGEST: Atlanta is often celebrated as a capital of Black success, but your professional background is rooted in California. Why Atlanta for this story? What firsthand experience or research helped you understand its political culture and Black elite?
Terry E. Hill: Atlanta just felt right for this story. It has Black political power, wealth, culture, and a very visible social elite, but it also has deep inequality. That contrast gave me a lot to work with. I researched the city’s political and civic life, then drew on what I already knew about government, nonprofits, donors, and the way influence moves through relationships. I wasn’t trying to claim Atlanta as my own; I wanted to create a world that felt believable.
NEGRO DIGEST: Mario holds elected office, wealthy donors influence his choices, and Natalie exercises power outside the law. Through those competing forms of authority, what distinction are you drawing between Black people holding power and Black communities actually benefiting from it?
Terry E. Hill: For me, there’s a real difference between having Black people in powerful positions and having that power improve life for Black communities. Representation matters, but it isn’t the finish line. Mario, the donors, and Natalie all have influence. The question is: Who actually benefits from the way they use it? Power only becomes meaningful when it answers to the people most affected by it.
“Representation matters, but it isn’t the finish line.” — Terry E. Hill
NEGRO DIGEST: Natalie initially finds it difficult to suspect a respected businessman whose family moves in her social circle. How much protection do wealth, philanthropy, and political connections buy within our own community? When does protecting Black achievement become shielding Black wrongdoing?
Terry E. Hill: Money, philanthropy, and political connections can buy a lot of goodwill. Sometimes they even make people afraid to ask hard questions because they don’t want to tear down someone seen as a symbol of Black success. Natalie’s hesitation comes from that tension. But once protecting someone’s reputation matters more than protecting the people being harmed, you’re no longer defending achievement—you’re covering for wrongdoing.
“But once protecting someone’s reputation matters more than protecting the people being harmed, you’re no longer defending achievement—you’re covering for wrongdoing.” — Terry E. Hill
NEGRO DIGEST: Having worked both with vulnerable people and inside government, when have you seen an institution protect its reputation at the expense of the people it was supposed to serve? How did that experience inform this novel?
Terry E. Hill: In social services and government, I saw how easy it is for an institution to worry more about its funding, relationships, or public image than the people it was created to serve. Meanwhile, vulnerable people are left waiting while the institution protects itself. I turn that tension up for the novel, but the frustration behind it is real. It helped me understand why the Resistance gets so impatient, even though the story also asks whether that frustration can ever justify acting without accountability.
Men, Women and Private Power
NEGRO DIGEST: Your women drive the action, but Black men occupy different positions as leaders, financiers, victims, and potential allies. What did you want male readers to recognize about themselves—and what would you resist having them conclude?
Terry E. Hill: I wanted male readers to see that the men in this story aren’t all the same. Some are protectors, some benefit from the system, some look away, and some could become real allies. Sometimes one man can be several of those things at once. I definitely wouldn’t want readers to walk away thinking the book says all men are corrupt or unnecessary. I hope it pushes men to think honestly about how they use power and whether they really listen when someone tell them something is wrong.
NEGRO DIGEST: How did you distinguish a man being threatened by a woman’s strength from a man having legitimate objections to how she uses it? Where does Mario fall in that distinction?
Terry E. Hill: To me, there’s a difference between a man who simply feels threatened by a strong woman and a man who has a real problem with the choices she’s making. If he wants to shrink her just because her strength makes him uncomfortable, that’s insecurity. But secrecy and violence can hurt people, so those are fair things to challenge. Mario falls on both sides. His pride gets in the way sometimes, but he also has every right to be angry about choices that put his family at risk without his knowledge.
“There’s a difference between a man who simply feels threatened by a strong woman and a man who has a real problem with the choices she’s making.” — Terry E. Hill
NEGRO DIGEST: Natalie’s competence helps sustain her husband’s public image, while her secrecy undermines his knowledge of their marriage. What interested you about a partnership in which a man depends on his wife without fully understanding who she is?
Terry E. Hill: What interested me was the gap between being close to someone and truly knowing them. Mario depends on Natalie’s intelligence, discipline, and political instincts, but he only knows the part of her that supports his public life. He thinks he knows his wife, but he doesn’t know the whole person. Natalie may believe her secrecy protects the mission, but it also keeps their marriage from being a fully honest partnership.
NEGRO DIGEST: Natalie understands her mission as protecting future generations, yet that mission places her own family at risk. Where does commitment to the community become a justification for betraying the people closest to you? Does Natalie recognize that boundary?
Terry E. Hill: For me, the line is crossed when the people closest to you become collateral damage without ever agreeing to take that risk. Natalie understands that on some level, but her sense of mission lets her push the consequences aside. She tells herself she’s protecting her family’s future while hiding dangers that affect them right now. That contradiction is one of her biggest flaws.
Justice, Violence and Accountability
NEGRO DIGEST: These women already possess status, access, and influence, and their backers can mobilize enormous wealth. What makes those resources insufficient to secure justice through legitimate means? Did you want readers to accept that conclusion or challenge it?
Terry E. Hill: These women have money, access, and influence, but that doesn’t mean the police, prosecutors, courts, or politicians will act—especially when the person being accused is connected to the same powerful circles. I wanted readers to understand why the Resistance reaches its conclusion, but I didn’t want them to accept it without question. The story is supposed to make you uncomfortable and force you to wrestle with the choice, not simply cheer it on.
NEGRO DIGEST: The Resistance condemns powerful people who operate beyond accountability, yet its members also decide privately who deserves to die. What prevents their organization from becoming another version of the power structure they oppose?
Terry E. Hill: Honestly, nothing automatically keeps them from becoming just like the people they’re fighting. Good intentions don’t make secret power safe. They would need clear rules, people willing to disagree, solid evidence, and some real form of accountability. But secrecy makes all of that hard. Their biggest danger is starting to believe that whatever they do must be right simply because they see themselves as the good guys.
“Good intentions don’t make secret power safe.” — Terry E. Hill
NEGRO DIGEST: Natalie insists that liberation must be distinguishable from revenge. What evidence should her organization require before taking a life—and what responsibility would it bear if its information were wrong?
Terry E. Hill: If you’re talking about taking a life, a rumor, a reputation, or one person’s word can’t be enough. The evidence would have to be extremely strong, checked by more than one source, and challenged by people willing to ask, “What if we’re wrong?” They would also have to consider every other option. And if they did get it wrong, the responsibility would be theirs. No mission, no matter how noble it sounds, could give that life back.
NEGRO DIGEST: A preacher participates in the organization, while prayer and ancestral responsibility help frame its mission. How do these characters distinguish divine guidance from the temptation to give their own actions God’s endorsement?
Terry E. Hill: Faith can guide your conscience, but it can also become a way of telling yourself that whatever you want to do has God’s approval. These characters have to stay humble enough to question themselves and admit they could be wrong. Prayer should make them feel more responsible for their choices, not give them a free pass. Having a preacher in the group puts that tension right in the middle of the story.
NEGRO DIGEST: Natalie acknowledges that another supplier could replace a drug kingpin. Beyond eliminating individuals, what would lasting liberation require? What can the Resistance change—and what remains beyond the reach of its methods?
Terry E. Hill: Taking out one drug kingpin might stop some harm for a while, but it doesn’t erase the demand, poverty, trauma, political protection, or lack of opportunity that allowed him to rise in the first place. Someone else can always step in. Real liberation takes prevention, treatment, investment, trustworthy institutions, and leaders who answer to the community. The Resistance can stop a person; it can’t kill a system.
“The Resistance can stop a person; it can’t kill a system.” — Terry E. Hill
What Resistance Can—and Cannot—Change
NEGRO DIGEST: As a Black male author whose career included serving abused women and children, what assumptions about women’s loyalty, anger, and capacity for violence did writing these characters force you to examine?
Terry E. Hill: Writing these women made me push back against some familiar assumptions—that women’s loyalty is passive, that anger makes them irrational, or that violence somehow belongs more naturally to men. These women can be loyal and strategic. Their anger can be justified, and their capacity for violence doesn’t make them any less human or complicated. At the same time, I didn’t want strength to become an excuse for cruelty or a way to avoid consequences.
NEGRO DIGEST: For a Black man who has worked, raised children, voted, and supported community institutions but still feels those institutions have failed him, what does this novel offer beyond the satisfaction of seeing predators punished?
Terry E. Hill: I hope the novel lets that reader know his disappointment is real and understandable, but it doesn’t offer an easy answer. It asks where we place our trust, what kind of accountability we demand, and what we can build before frustration turns into revenge. Watching predators get punished may feel satisfying in the moment, but lasting change takes organized communities, honest institutions, and steady care for people who are vulnerable.
NEGRO DIGEST: You connect the Resistance’s mission to the legacy of slavery and Nat Turner. What is the hardest question that connection raises about Black leadership today—and where do your own convictions differ from Natalie’s?
Terry E. Hill: The hardest question may be this: Does leadership still deserve our loyalty when it learns to manage inequality instead of confronting it? Bringing in slavery and Nat Turner gives resistance a real moral urgency, but it also raises difficult questions about who gets to define tyranny and who has the right to act. I share Natalie’s refusal to ignore suffering. Where I part ways with her is when certainty becomes permission to take a life without any public accountability.
“Does leadership still deserve our loyalty when it learns to manage inequality instead of confronting it?” — Terry E. Hill
The Resistance was published by Urban Renaissance on August 25, 2026. The 288-page novel can be purchased on Amazon.
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