Excerpt from Land of Love and Drowning by Tiphanie Yanique, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

Owen feels the rain sneaking through as kisses from a tiny mouth. Now he raises his hand. "I should like to try," he says. The American scientist smiles as Owen Arthur steps forwards. He passes Owen the vial. Owen walks towards the little girl. She is suspended so that he and she are level. Their eyes meet. He bends towards her and caresses her earlobe gently, for he enjoys the feeling of that soft skin. "Men are foolish when pretty girls are involved," he says loud enough for all to hear, and then he dashes the vial onto the floor.

The great men snort. Many look away, ashamed that they had not had Captain Bradshaw's integrity. "My apologies, Mr. Lovernkrandt. I seem to have broken the American's instrument. I am afraid I have ended the game." Owen thinks on the major shipping deals he must have lost now. Thinks on how his business has depended on Lovernkrandt's rum for more than a decade. But then he thinks on something else. "I fear most that it is past this little girl's bedtime." He touches the girl's hair then tips his hat and takes his leave into the storm.

Science is just a kind of magic, and magic just a kind of religion, and Owen Arthur knows all about this because Owen owns a ship and men who spend their lives on water know that magic is real.

As he stands in the rain, the lightning brightening the way ahead of him, Owen cannot decide to which house he will walk. Lovernkrandt's house, so well positioned at the center of town, is not far from the opening of the sea. Wherever Owen goes, the sea will be at his side either way. A small wall of stone has been built to block the bay. So it is no longer really a beach but a proper harbour. Still, it would be nothing at all for Owen to walk to the ocean right now. He has done it before. He swam in this harbour as a boy. The ocean, look now, is coming to him. The waves are bounding over the seawall, leaping, like animals, like little girls.

If he keeps the sea on his right then he will go past the market square where entrepreneur ladies sell their produce and straw creations. There, Rebekah lives in a small house with her sons. None of these sons are his, yet.

If he puts the sea on his left, he will pass the smaller fish market where men haul in the catch of the day before dawn. Beyond, Owen's wife, Antoinette, lives in Villa by the Sea. It is a wealthy but modest estate where their daughter and their cook, Miss Lady, and their groundskeeper, Mr. Lyte, all live. The house is at the shallow edge of the harbour. The living and dining rooms are separated from each other by a line of linen curtains, which makes the house feel like a ship at sail. From the Villa by the Sea balcony the captain can see his own ship docked farther into the bay.

Now Owen Arthur thinks of the little girl's hair rising into the air and he faces the beach. He waits until his whole body has received the rain. Then he goes towards his Eeona, because the little orphan girl reminded him of her. Owen cannot see into the future, but he can see into the past, and this is a magic we all have. As he walks, the sea is at his side, but the rain is at his back, pushing him towards his only child. The waves slip over his shoes.

When Owen arrives, he goes to his wife, who is telling a story to little Eeona in the parlour. This family will know itself through stories told in time and others told too late. In this way they are no different from any other tribe. "Holy Ghost," his wife cries when she sees him wet, as though he'd been drowning. "Lady!" Antoinette calls. "A towel, a change of clothes for the captain. Quickly." Eeona has no restraint. She runs to her father and he picks her up and puts her to his chest, even though he will make her wet and they will both be sick over this. When Miss Lady comes from upstairs with the towels, she knows to bring two.

At this moment it is only the one child and she is in love with her father. It is no large thing that this daughter will, in time, kill Owen Arthur. No large thing at all. Family will always kill you—some bit by bit, others all at once. It is the love that does it.

Excerpted from Land of Love and Drowning by Tiphanie Yanique. Copyright © 2014 by Tiphanie Yanique. Excerpted by permission of Riverhead Books. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.