She let her mind drift, thinking about new lingerie designs, wishing she'd brought along her sketchpad. Inspiration could strike at the most inconvenient times--in the shower, in the car, on this road--but she was grateful it was with her again, an old companion with whom she was getting reacquainted, pleased to find they could take up where they'd left off, as if there'd been no estrangement at all.
Heather BarbieriStichwörter: inspirational irish fashion literary-fiction
Oh, now my Erin, she'd smile down on me no matter where I walked." Grandpop smiled that little smile again. "But I'd be separated from her, and I'd feel that separation in my soul, you see?"
Nathan shook his head.
Grandpop sighed. "You have the Irish eyes, boy. One of these days, you'll see from eyes, not your own, feel with a heart outside your chest. Wild Irish eyes. Nathan. When you love, love well and love true, and take care, lad, because those Irish eyes are windows into not just your own soul, but the soul of the one you love." Grandpop looked out at his Erin's grave.
"And when you lose that heart, you can't leave the places where your memories are the best. And if I left her, I'd not be buried beside her.
Stichwörter: irish elite eyes wild card nathan leigh lora grandpop malone ops
Yes, it is a rich language, Lieutenant, full of the mythologies of fantasy and hope and self-deception - a syntax opulent with tomorrows. It is our response to mud cabins and a diet of potatoes; our only method of replying to... inevitabilities.
Brian FrielStichwörter: irish
A driver had been sent to meet us. He was gray-haired, short, and nimble and introduced himself. "I am Patrick and so is every fourth man in Ireland, and the ones in between are named Sean or Mick or Finn, and I'll be driving you.
Sharon CreechStichwörter: humor irish irishmen
Let justice be done tho the heavens fall.
Michael DavittStichwörter: history speech irish irish-question fenianism michael-davitt special-irish-commission
All the same, she wondered if they did know what she thought and felt, if they knew without knowing, in that way the Irish were so adept at doing.
Benjamin BlackStichwörter: irish
If you own a bar on your own, you're a player; if you own it with your beloved twin sister, you're–"
"Irish.
Finding her voice at last, she asked, “What dreams are you having, sir?”
“I dreamt I was in a spring field and a woman stands in the shadows just at the edge of the nearby forest. I haven’t yet seen her face, only her long beautiful hair. I always wake too soon.” He reached up to touch the hawk touchstone around his throat as he described his dream, rubbing it absently between his fingers.
Lily lowered her lashes to hide her astonishment. “When you see someone in a dream but cannot see their face, it means you haven’t met them yet,” she explained.
“Then perhaps I’ll dream of her again tonight and this time I’ll see her face.” He smiled, reaching across the table to take her left hand and lift it to his lips. “My name is Ian Kelly, and it would give me the greatest pleasure to know yours.”
“Lily Evans. Around here I go by Raven.” She raised a shoulder, indicating the gypsy tent.
“Lily--indeed, a most beautiful name. Now tell me,” he stared pointedly at her hand, “I see no ring that another has claimed you as his, so my confidence is strengthened. Look at your cards again, milady, and tell me if you see me in your future…
Stichwörter: romance dreams irish celtic tarot gypsy renaissance
In the late afternoon, Lily approached Ian as he reclined on the couch sketching. “I’ve got something to ask you,” she said, the tiniest waver in her voice betraying her nervousness.
Ian went on high alert and placed his pad and pencil on the coffee table. “What is it, sweetheart?” he managed to get out, keeping his voice even.
Lily wrung her hands. “Okay. Now, you don’t have to if you don’t want to, okay? I
promise I’ll understand if you say no. Really, I will.”
His shoulders slumped in relief and he rescued her hands from each other before either was damaged. “Darlin’, you needn’t be afraid to ask. I would love for you to take me to bed and spend the rest of the day making wild, passionate love to me. Tonight and tomorrow too, if that would make you happy,” Ian assured her.
Lily blinked and frowned uncertainly. “Umm…tempting as that sounds, no, that’s not it.”
“Need an organ donated, then? I’ve got one in mind just for you.”
“This is serious.” She giggled, thumping him on the chest.
“Damn right it is. Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I’ve seen you naked?” he said, raising an eyebrow in challenge. “How the hell am I supposed to get better under these horrific conditions? I may end up in therapy yet. See, look, my eye’s already starting to twitch…
Stichwörter: art love romance irish celtic sketching
I shall ne'er chase rainbows again,
Knowing no pot o' gold awaits at the end.
My Irish treasure is not there.
For ye, my love, abide with me here.
Stichwörter: love irish treasure rainbow richelle richelle-goodrich pot-of-gold st-patrick-s-day
« erste vorherige
Seite 6 von 9.
nächste letzte »
Data privacy
Imprint
Contact
Diese Website verwendet Cookies, um Ihnen die bestmögliche Funktionalität bieten zu können.