Irish People Traits Novels & Stories

" I say in question. "She's not amazing literally anyone could kill her I mean my husband hates hers I wouldn't be surprised If we were the one's that shot her up I mean we are the Irish mafia were not afraid of anyone plus she's not even pretty I mean her husband and I have quite a history together," some girl says "And who exactly are you," I ask "Anastasia Gaelic," she says

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.

Irish said getting on her feet. "Really? Have you guys gotten that close?" Arusha asked. "Well...yes" Irish smiled, missing Arin already. "Is the little girl spoilt?" Arusha asked, he had always heard rich kids are spoilt, rude, proud,this and that . "She's not actually spoilt,nor rude. Fun to be with. Just a bit of a talkative though" Irish laughed. "Really?" "Yeah, you'll really like her when you meet her" Irish said.

“And it doesn't? Mean something, I mean" I shake my head, “No. At least not in the sense that he thinks. The Irish…” I trail off when I'm unable to find the words, “They have their own way of doing things. Always have. They will not just let a stranger lead them, simply because he claims to share some of their blood, especially not someone who's been thought to be a ghost up until now.” “So what, you think that the only reason he is being allowed to lead them is just so that they can betray him later on?”

Edmondo's body is tense, his hand is twitching like he’s itching to reach for a weapon. “That’s close enough,” Edmondo snaps. The man stops, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Easy there, champ. Like I said, I’m just here to talk. No need to get hostile.” “Start talking, then,” Edmondo growls. The man’s eyes flick back to me and the smile suddenly fades from his face. “The Irish are restless,” he says. “And they’re watching. Closely.” I feel like the floor has dropped out from under me. The Irish. Who the hell are they? I don't know who or what they are but, I know they aren't good. I could tell by the atmosphere now.

“I can no be like them, Gair.” “Nobody expects you to be.” “I...I do not want to disappoint ye. If your brothers are happy with women like that, how will you be happy with me?” “Izzy lass, Lia, and Mairead have some things in common but they are also very different, as my brothers and I are different. We look alike, and we even have the same given names, but we are not the same man. We have different preferences so different women suit.” “Like what?”

"This is one of my partners, Trent." Kel was stalling, but Maggie was going to let him. For now. "Nice to meet you all. Maggie O'Grady." "An Irish lass," Donal said, a lilt in his voice that she could listen to all day. Not just because it was sexy, but it called to something primitive inside her. Like he was a taste of home or something from her past. She smiled at him despite herself, raising the Guinness in her hand. "At least in spirit."

“Who did this to you?” “Why do you care? You willingly follow that asshole Reid. Why would you now care about the atrocities he commits?” I quietly spit out at him in anger. I don’t need the whole camp to hear us arguing. “Your name, Fergal, means man of valor. As far as I’m concerned, there’s not a single man here who holds any redeeming attributes, let alone one as noble as valor.”

Liana couldn't believe her ears. She felt a wave of nostalgia washing over her as memories she almost forgot about began flooding back in her mind. The more she looked, the more she heard, she couldn't help but believe this was far too much of a coincidence. He's Irish, he looks older which stands to reason but for the most part their features are the same, I'm almost certain his name was Collen.

He winked at me, "The Irish are a boring group of people who live their lives overly paranoid. The only time they seemed at ease is when they were sloshed in a pub." I heard a slight huff come from the direction of Ava and it made me smile. He was trying to rile her, and I found it comical. Liam chuckled, "They say the best part of Ireland is the brew. I never had a taste for it myself. Too bitter for my liking." I couldn't stifle the laugh building in my gut. They were getting to her. She must really love Ireland. "Are we going to just sit around all day or are we going to work on getting you ready to defend yourself?" Ava snarled.