A Portrait of Josephine is a soon-to-be published novel by Allison Frederick. It is a classic mentor/apprentice story about female empowerment between a young, graduate student from the 21 century named Abby Archer, and her mentor, Galena Conner, a British milk farmer's wife from the late 1880s. These women are based on the inspirational qualities of two famous female artists, painter, Georgia O'Keeffe and sculptor, Eva Hesse. Follow their path as the main characters explore the essence of their feminine being and as they reject the boxed in roles their respective societies have of them.

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You may find it strange that I knew her immediately. Her body swollen like a sausage, her black hair caked with sand and seaweed. But her eyes were wide open, and those eyes escaped me no more, well, I would know them anywhere. Galena stops, pulling a strand of hair from her chapped thin lips. The wind, unruly in its usual way thrusts the hair back with haste.

She pauses, taking a long, steady breath. Her grey woolen shawl beats in rhythm along with her hair in the wind but the rest of her is unmoved, nearly blurring into the lichen stones and fog. With her head held high, more out of habit but certainly not from a present sense of confidence, she watches the waves loll into Somerhaven.

There are times in life when something happens, something unexpected, and suddenly everything is changed. Things are so different now that she is gone. Sure, I still draw and paint, to that I'll always be true for I could be nothing else but now everything has changed. My son Simon. My husband Kellen. Master Ruther.

What difference does knowing make if you are the only one who knows and the knowing doesn't change anything. I used to be so certain. Certain about what I wanted and what would happen. Certain about my life, but since the day Josephine washed onto the shore; I haven't wanted to know anything. I am tired. My legs, they don't want to walk, my arms, they are so heavy they barely hold my paintbrush.

Galena inhaled loudly, the air, crisp and damp, seemed to awaken her a bit. Ah, the sea, it delivers and it takes away. It is like love I suppose. It rushes forward, then quickly retreats. You know, some say the young cannot truly know love but I've seen them. I've seen my son and know of his and Josephine's love. They were free. Free from consequence. Free from failure. So free from fear. Foolish they were. It pains me now. Yes. But they did love.

As if stuck, as if going back over the events would make them fall into place, to suddenly make sense, she repeated her thoughts in another way. Have you ever felt that before a disaster struck you were living in a dream? It is as if you never thought that the worst could ever come find its way to your door. It is as if all that is happening before would never change. It was in this way that my husband and I built our lives. It was in this way that we thought our children would grow, just as we did, without consequence.

Looking down at her hands her mind fell numb, all sounds muffling. She sat that way for some time. So accustom to the mist and fog skewing her vision, she didn't recognize that her blurry vision was because of tears she dare not let fall.

Finally words formulated in her mind, words she'd been afraid to let in. Kellen doesn't say much but he's a good man. Sometimes life makes a good man do a thing he wouldn't do otherwise - sometimes justice must be served.

End of Prologue

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