Is 'The Irish Goodbye' Based On A True Story?

In a world where werewolves, vampires and other magical beings live in an uneasy coexistence, Maeve Blackwell, a vampire and heir to the powerful Blackwell family mob finds herself in an unlikely relationship with the Leprechaun king, Sweeny Brockbank. Forced to leave her family, she finds herself drawn to the enigmatic ruler but their fragile peace is shattered when sea raiders invade the realm, taking Maeve and her fairy maid, Aisling as captives. When they attempt to escape, they get lost in the enchanted forest and stumble upon Buile Suibhne, a half-man, half-bird creature guarding a mysterious portal who shows Maeve how to uncover her hidden abilities but their freedom is short-lived as they are recaptured by the raiders and face the terrifying prospect of becoming a sacrificial offering to Oilliphièst, the dreaded Sea monster. Maeve tries to use her newfound abilities to send a distress signal to her tribesmen and in her darkest hour, her old lover leads a daring rescue mission but this comes at a heavy cost, which leaves her disillusioned. Haunted by the horrors she witnesses, she retreats to House Rhys and dwells among the Banshees. When visions of her father's impending death torment her, she embarks on a quest to alter fate. There, she encounters Keith Lafferty, a werewolf and heir to the throne of Larne. Their initial animosity gives way to an intense attraction as they embark on a journey to bridge the divide between the realms. They uncover a long-lost prophecy that hints at the rise of a new hybrid species, destined to bring either salvation or destruction to their world. As the stakes grow higher, they must choose between their own destinies, their duty to their families, and the possibility of a love that defies all odds.

"You have no idea do you?" He whispers, his lips only a millimetre from mine. "No idea about what?" His fingers slip around my waist, pulling me firmly against his body. I feel him everywhere. He's hard where I'm soft. Calm where my heart is beating. He lifts a hand to my face, gently cupping my cheek as he tilts my gaze to meet his. His thumb brushes against my lower lip and I suck in a sharp breath when I notice just how dark his gaze is. "You have no idea the power you have over me." ... Born to a mother who abandoned her family and a father who never even knew he existed, Aaron O Sullivan has spent his entire life fighting to prove he belongs. With a chip on his shoulder and blood on his hands, he’s determined to reclaim the legacy stolen from him. When no one moment of anger causes the one person he's grown to care about everything he's determined to step up and save her despite even if she thinks she doesn't want his help. And what way to protect her other than a fake engagement. Waitress By Day, Stripper By Night, Elle will do whatever it takes to pay off her uncle and finally buy her freedom. But behind her sharp tongue and seductive smile is a secret and trauma so depe she wasn't sure she could heal. Until him. She doesn't understand why he wants to protect her especially because he's the reason she's in this mess to begin with. She's got pain and he's got secrets. What happens when the two collide just how far are they willing to go for the things they desire.

Five years ago, my junior made a mistake in the experiment, resulting in an explosion in the lab. In an effort to save my childhood friend, Andrew, I suffered severe burns to one side of my face and was falsely accused as the culprit. Just like that, I became the target of everyone's anger. Only Andrew stood by me, promising, "I love you for who you are, not your appearance. I'll always be there to protect you." But on our wedding day, he vanished without a trace. My mother, suffering from heart disease and barely clinging to life, wanted to see Andrew. When I asked him to come, he replied impatiently, "Are you using such a lame excuse to meet me? Don't you have any shame? Every time I look at your face, I feel disgusting." I pleaded desperately, but he calmly hung up. "Do you think I'm your servant? You can't just summon me whenever you want. Just because you saved me once doesn't mean you can blackmail me for life." My mother died without peace. The junior who slandered me back then later posted a photo on social media, showing a man lifting her effortlessly. Their poses were intimate, highlighting the underlying affection. Her captions read: [It's all his fault for tiring me out during the day. I almost missed out on this beautiful ocean. When you're in love, all is clear to see. I mentioned wanting to go to Belmar Island, and he flew me around the world for it.] I was utterly heartbroken, so I texted him: [Let's break up…]

My mother is hospitalized due to a terminal illness. She's in urgent need of a kidney transplant to save her life. I'm the only one who can perform the surgery, but I give the kidney to a stranger. My father and husband get on their knees before me on the day of the surgery. They beg me to save my mother. However, I shrug and say, "I can't do anything about this. A life is a life, regardless of who the person is. This is what she gets for coming late—death is waiting for her."

“Alex… I’m dying.” Amara’s trembling voice over the phone should have shaken her husband, but the renowned Dr. Alex Spencer simply replied, “Buy medicine and let me work.” The world envied their marriage to the perfect doctor, but behind closed doors, Amara carried every pain alone. Until the day she received two verdicts: brain cancer… and a divorce she signed with her own hands. She walked away, whispering, “This is the last meal I’ll ever cook for you,” leaving Alex furious and unable to accept the truth. And when he rushed into a house decorated with flowers and candles, her smiling picture greeted him instead. She was gone. He fell down, weeping like a child. But something still told him, this was all a setup. That Amara was still alive and he won’t rest until he finds her. Is Amara truly still alive? Read to find out!

Having an Awakenist as my wife meant enduring her monkish attitude toward sex. We could only be intimate on the sixteenth of every month. Every detail—my position, rhythm, even my expression—had to follow her rigid rules. If I showed too much pleasure, she would immediately rise and leave. We had been married for five years. Was I ever tired of this? Yes. Still, I always gave in. I accepted these limitations because I loved her. "The Saintess loves me too," I told myself. That faith shattered the day I was sent to extinguish a hotel fire. Amid the flames, I found my wife pressed close to a man in disheveled clothes. Between their arms was a young boy.