Prologue: VioletPROLOGUE Violet I was born with salt air in my lungs and pluff mud between my toes. As a girl I wore seaweed in my hair and seashells around my neck. I was raised knowing the tide tables along with my ABCs. I knew not to swim in August or April, because I didn't want to keep company with the jellyfish, and I understood that oysters were best in the fall. I took my afternoon naps alongside the dunes and learned to walk lightly on the hard-packed sand. My backyard was the ocean, and I would always call it home. Although I am named after a spring flower, I am an island girl. There is something different about women who were born by the sea, baptized in salt water, and raised by the tides. We were mermaids, adapting to the temperamental whims of storms that brewed beyond the shores. I lived at a different pace than the people on the mainland. We called it "island time." We moved a little slower and smiled to ourselves at the city people. The thick humid air bound us to a secret only we knew: life was a little sweeter at the beach. Being born on an island meant you were also in tune with nature. All women are daughters of the moon, but our relationship is strengthened by the ocean. Along with the water, we belong to her phases. I grew up with an appreciation for the cycle of life because I saw it play out so clearly in front of me. I respected the ocean because it deserved and demanded it. I knew there were places that would swallow you whole if you weren't careful. Riptides took out a few clueless tourists each summer. Us island folk knew better. Oceans are not always joyful; in fact, very quickly the water can turn dark, roll in and roll out to cover and uncover deep secrets. The ocean, if it wanted, could make you lost forever. Reaching up and pulling you into its mouth, never to be seen again. People have gone missing at sea for as long as we have ventured out on her. The ocean is beautiful, but also wild and mercurial. The beach at noon is not the same beach at dusk. We appreciated the gifts of the ocean and understood how it could also take away. Anyone born next to the rolling tides of Sullivan's Island knew a lot about the natural world, especially its weather. Island people know about hurricanes. They will tell you crazy things happen during hurricanes. Tragedies, too. Heart attacks and early births. I had lived through many storms, but as all island women knew, we were always ready for the next one. Somewhere along the way, though, I had become timid about life's storms. I had learned to keep my mermaid nature wrapped and hidden. If I had an inner siren, she'd become muzzled in the process of growing up. I'd grown scared, I guess, that if I let my hair out of its tight bun, if I acted on my wild and tempestuous impulses, I would lose control and then be truly lost at sea. This is the story of how I found myself, out there in the storm, and learned my own true nature. Excerpted from The Violet Hour: A Novel by Victoria Benton Frank All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
