Female Irish Names Novels & Stories

Greta asked trying to keep up with Daniel's steps. That's was her middle name, Irina Louise Dunne, after marrying Adam Lewis she dropped her middle name because it sounded kind of weir, you know what I mean, Irina Louise Lewis," Daniel explained with a laugh. Greta laughed along, nodding her head a few times, she could understand the reason.

She looked down at me and smiled. “I’ve got all sorts of neat tricks,” she said. “Do you want to give me a name like you did Maddox?” “Can I call you Faith?” I asked. Her laughter was musical as she said, “Only if you admit it’s because the only Irish phrase you know is ‘faith and begorrah.’” “Not true,” I said. “I could call you Erin, like in ‘Erin go Bragh.’” “Let’s stick with Faith,” she said.

A name that was strong, gentle, or one that embraced both light and dark? She began the list, each name carrying its history and weight: Eira (for snow, for purity, for the night she almost left) Liora (for light, for the morning after rescue) Seren (for peace, for the quiet she longed for) Ash (for what remains after fire, for rebirth) Kellan (for strength, for the father’s courage she both loved and resented) Mira (for kindness, after her oldest friend) Rowan (for healing, for protection)

I nod and trace the chubby baby cheek with my finger again. I remember all of my family having “H” names, and wonder if I should continue the tradition. Goddess I wish I could be sharing this moment with my parents, with my family. We’ve all been robbed of so damn much. *Names… hmmm,* Hope says, trying to reign me back in. Mirren had given me a book of “Irish” baby names which wasn’t actually a terrible gift. I did look over it. “Are you a Hannah,” I coo, bringing her to my nose so I can snuggle her again. Hope makes a face in my mind and shakes her head.

How Quinn wished she would say more! He had so many things he wanted to tell her, he wanted to know how she had spent these past three years. He wanted to tell her that their Izzy II was already three years old, very cute and sensible, and sometimes quite a handful. But all of these, he couldn't tell her now. Or, didn't know how to start. His wife, his Isabella, she no longer remembered their past. "Iris?" Quinn repeated her Slendish name a few times, laughing, "Iris is a very nice and interesting name, the goddess of starry night in mythology. I suppose your Celestian name must also be very nice."

One of them has blue hair, and it moves like water when blown by the air, and the other looks normal, like a human. "Princess Calla. These are my sisters. Irish, she's a water Fae like Aerial and Che Che, she's Air Fae, and she's Xander's wife. "Hello, I like your hair, Irish. It looks like water." "My hair is always a given on what powers I have., like Freya. " She smiled. "If Prince Amir bullies you again, just tell us. We can't match with his powers, but we can stop him for a minute. And it's enough time for you to get even." Che Che said, grinning.

she says. I roll my eyes but go back to wait I was saying. “Like I said, I was named after Dad and Rowan was named after Ma’s father. I’d like to take Pop’s Irish heritage into account for our next set of triplets.” “Awww!” JoJo says, her eyes getting wide. “I love that! What are your choices.” “Well, if they are girls, I’d like to name them Evelyn, Finnley, and Gwendolyn. And if they’re boys, I want to name them Eamon, Francis, and Garret,” I say, looking to see if she likes them.

said Iris . " Well if I asked the others about you where is the point of being friends. I wanna hear it from you ." said Kiara while sitting on the grass . Iris laughed a little and then seat on the grass . " My name is Iris , first princess of England and second in line to the British throne . Glad to know you ! " said Iris with a smile . Kiara who was sitting in the grass and enjoying the sun gut up immediately in a shock. When they saw Kiara's face Emily and Iris started to laugh their stomachs out .

My request bounces back to me, leaving me empty handed and I begin to look for other alternatives. “Is it Irish or Iris?” I squint my eyes as my fingers search for something I can defend myself with, in the darkness. “It’s Irish. That’s what she was called.” She argues back and I hum, moving to the side slowly, my back still on the wall. “Or it’s what your father told you because I have never heard a name like Irish.” I say, trying to hide my glee as my fingers touch a rod. I hold it tightly when she comes closer with her eyes looking strange in the dark.

A young lady with violet hair covered with beautiful tattoos and snack piercings on her neck asked Ben. Ben and I stared at each other, then at her, and Ben nodded. “Bennett Campbell right? Do you remember me?” She asked with excitement on her face. “Should I?” “You haven’t changed at all, you bastard. Still a bloody arsehole.” Another female with her Irish accent said. She was smaller than her friend in a white floral dress and a cross hanging on her neck. Her red hair held big, loose curls that gave her a sophisticated look. Ben recognised the Irish girl and smiled. “Josephine and Mary, the sinner and the nun.”