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Irish eyes

Lora Leigh

Mots clés irish

I'm Irish!...When I feel well I feel better than anyone, when I am in pain I yell at the top of my lungs, and when I am dead I shall be deader than anybody.

Morgan Llywelyn

Mots clés irish

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There was always a big party on the night before anyone left for the States. They called it an American wake, because the whole community stayed up to keep the emigrants company through their last night on the island, just as they would have bidden farewell to a soul beginning the long journey towards eternity. There was almost no chance that anyone present would ever see the departed again

Cole Moreton

Mots clés family loss irish ireland emigration

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Irish and English are so widely separated in their mode of expression that nothing like a literal rendering from one language to the other is possible.

Robin Flower

Mots clés irish culture english linguistics cultural-differences gaeilge

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By now, he was also a 'Protestant Atheist', which he remained all his life.

John Ellis

Mots clés atheism irish atheist physics biography physicist bell-s-theorem j-s-bell john-stuart-bell

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Submitted for your approval--the curious case of Colleen O’Brien and the
gorgeous time traveling Scot who landed in her living room.” – Rod Serling

Shannon MacLeod

Mots clés love writing romance dreams sex relationships irish magic ireland mystery scotland memories erotic paranormal witchcraft contemporary celtic tarot florida book-reviews rogue blogging lyrical-press past-life goodreads gaelic cups rt-book-reviews shannon-macleod trs-featured-author astral-sex blog-tour celtic-hearts romance-reviews romance-writers-of-america

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His deep voice drifted to her through the crowd of women. “…my lady when she returns. Och, there ye are, Blossom,” Faolán grinned, standing up and taking her hand so she could ease back into the restaurant booth. “These lasses were just asking if I was a stripper. I told them I doona think so,” he said, his face clouded with uncertainty. “I’m not, am I?”
The inquisitive lasses in question flushed scarlet and scattered to the four corners of the room at the murderous look on Colleen’s face. “No, you’re not, but I guess I can see how they’d think that,” she muttered darkly. “What you are is a freaking estrogen magnet.

Shannon MacLeod

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Refusing to lean back against him, Colleen sat ramrod straight until they reached the road. “I guess I should say thank you for saving my life,” she muttered then turned and slapped Faolán hard across the face. “And that’s for you having to save it in the first place. And I’m not your woman, you big, arrogant, lying, betraying…faery loving…” She searched for the perfect insult and couldn’t find one, “…Scot.” She gave a very unladylike snort. “Happy now? That fiery enough for you?

Shannon MacLeod

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I turned on the water then returned to the door jamb. “That’s not fair, you’re nice and clean.”
“I am?” He took a few steps toward me.
“Aren’t you?”
“No,” he scowled and shook his head. “I’m dirty. But you knew that.”
Now, if you haven’t heard an Irishman say the word “dirty” before, I will compare it with dynamite in your ovaries. They say it with like, seven Rs.

Nicole Castro

Mots clés adventure romance irish ireland spy sexy

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Food shouldn’t be that shade of green, lass.” – Faolán MacIntyre

Shannon MacLeod

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