Irish Accent In Writing Novels & Stories

I set the champagne glass down on the bench, my fingers trembling just slightly. I was ready to throw all caution to the wind and just grab his face and straddle his sexy body. I needed this man, this moment of reprieve from my everyday mundane life. Then suddenly, it hit me like a punch to the gut. His voice wrapped around the words like silk, but they were foreign, unfamiliar. The accent. The softness of it. It should've been romantic, but instead, my body locked up realizing what language he was speaking. Gaelic.

Betray me. "Wher ya'goin'?" She asked in that thick Irish accent she still had. Growing up in Ireland, the woman had never been able to shake the drawl. The way she let certain letters go in the end. As if she didn't have time to say them properly. Always rushed.

"My Maimeó always said she knew we had arrived when my da started cussing out that damn goat." "What does that mean?" I ask. "What?" "Maim… I don't know how to pronounce it." He smiles at my half-ass attempt of imitating his words. "Maimeó. My grandmother. Sorry. Sometimes I forget not everyone knows those words." "So you speak Irish? You don't have the brogue." "Gaelic. And I know a little bit, mostly cusswords from my da." He chuckles. "But I do have a brogue sometimes. When I get tired or upset about something its starts to bleed through a little."

' 'Faolan,' he answered simply and fixed his pale eyes onto Iris's. Iris shivered, a remnant of her earlier exposure to the elements, or was it something deeper, something primal that Faolan's stare had stirred in her guts? 'Interesting name,' Iris said eventually, breaking the spell. 'Gaelic,' Faolan explained, 'Irish,' he elaborated slightly. 'Speaking of Irish,' he said and clapped his hands together. 'How about something to warm you up? You must think I'm a terrible host.' 'Not at all,' Iris replied. 'You've been more than kind. I... I don't know what I'd have done if you hadn't found me.'

Our very own little sex pet, think of how good she will look when we put a pretty gold collar on her’ Conner turned as the office door opened and Kelly was shown in by the Capos, ‘Hello little Colleen, you looked as if you needed our help from those two goons’ He put his arm around her led her over to their drinks cabinet and poured her a large brandy, ‘Tis good for shock, so it is.’ He used his best Irish accent, and he knew women loved his sexy Southern Irish brogue even though he had never set foot in the country it was where his Mother had come from and he still had relatives over there. Kelly was charmed, she knew exactly who he was, all the women did, and the Twins were well known ever

Cheeks bounced in place, her face pulled up in hope. Drace's gaze was sliding over Cheeks' body like she wanted to lick all that moving flesh. I chuckled, well acquainted with the feeling. "Yes, for the love of the stars, quit jumping about so, though," Drace said with a wince. She tipped her head back, her eyes screwed tightly shut. "Sweet merciful heavens." I chuckled. Drace lowered her head, glared at me. "Like you'd be able to resist it, then?" I shook my head. "I fully admit to failing that temptation. I was laughing at you. I think this is the first time you actually sound like you're from Ireland. Bit of a lilt there, love." I botched the accent, laughed when Drace winced.

“I can’t for the life of me understand why ye’d give up your native tongue, lad. I’ve been here since eighteen-fifty-four and I still talk like the folks back home.” “Would ye prefer I reverted back to me brogue?” Aiden asked. He’d worked so hard to shed his Irish accent that it felt foreign to resume it for the benefits of the O’Malley family. Dennis cocked his head as he studied Aiden for a moment and smiled. “The Texas accent suits ye, lad.”

He was an elder age man. "Tháinig mé díreach tar éis a fháil amach an bhfuil sé ag rith go fóill nó nach ea, a bhfuil tú?" I replied in the same tone as he was far away. [I just came to see whether it's still running or not, who are you?] It's a Gaeilge language which is spoken in Ireland, but rarely. 5% of people use this. Living here for a year, I learned it.

His eyes were on me and on the shelves of alcohol, not on the crowd. “See anyone you fancy?” he asked in his funny Irish accent. He had a thick one because he was from Northern Ireland. “Norn Iren so it is,” he always slapped my back while he said. I had no idea what it meant and didn’t give two shits either. But I liked Carter. We were the same age—twenty-eight—and we both owed our lives to Derek Savage for different reasons. I never asked too many questions, but Derek made it sound like Carter’s story was even sadder than mine.

Despite his intimidating size, he had a really docile face, that almost didn't match his body. " Excuse me", I said with a loud voice, trying my best not to get drowned in the loud country music. " Good evening Miss. What can I do you for?", he asked politely while he wiped a huge glass cup with a towel. He was definitely Irish. I could tell from the accent.