Irish People Traits Novels & Stories

“My cousin talked a lot about you.” “Did he?” I’d barely seen Piper blush, but right now she was red as a tomato, and with her curly red hair, gosh, it was like someone just threw a plate of spaghetti on her face. “Yes. The green-eyed redhead American.” “Well, my grandparents are originally from Ireland,” she proudly said. “Great. My wife is half-Irish, too,” Terzo said gaily. “Oh, Dani is Irish?” she asked. “Yes. Anyway, this.” He pointed at his scar.

"Plus, your abs will never compare to mine, since I do way more running than you do." He punches my arm. "That hurt, assmunch." "Sorry." "Don't be. The best players are the best because they know who they are and where they can be the most valuable. That's a rare thing, man. I'm impressed." I shrug and feel my cheeks redden. It's the curse of being half Irish. Flaming red hair and cheeks to match when I'm embarrassed. "Hey, uh, the team doesn't know who my dad is, do they?"

She carried herself too properly, too proudly, to blend easily with the other castle hands. Iris’s steps were airy and her back stayed upright. Despite the years in servitude, she had long been drilled the proper way to carry herself as a pup in an Alpha family. So she did possess discipline, I noted wryly. It was entirely by choice that she was so combative. That, and she was so young. The lack of worldliness, the emotional outbursts, the naivety– all qualities of a mere juvenile. Perhaps the Moon Goddess did not need the Witches to curse us, if this was her blessing to me.

In many ways, Carlos Ramirez reminded me of Aidan O’Connell in the way he treated women and obsessed over building an empire. I hadn’t been back to Ireland in well over a decade and strategically avoided all jobs there. I didn’t care how much they paid, it wasn’t worth it to me. The fact that I had never submitted to another Leader and was happily unmated meant as far as Aidan was concerned, he still owned me and if I ever got close enough to cross paths with him or anyone from the Irish Clan, he could pull rank and demand my return. I would rather die than let that happen.

Wanted to have flings with him. Most of them were even on cloud nine, when he winked at them, or replied them when they talked to him. While the boys hated him so much. Because he was far good looking than them. The difference was huge. He was biracial, having the looks of acient Irish warriors. And then he had a Irish accent. Something he had spent months learning. This made girls admire him even more. From the other outer point of the hallway, O'Connell's eyes caught a pair of sad looking, guilt masked eyes.

And she started thinking about his attractiveness. The fair sex believed his Teutonic-black hair made him appear like a masculine model. Yet although it was mostly orderly and fluid, it sometimes became a mishandled chaos. He had thin, pointed eyebrows that resembled a crescent moon. He possessed powerful jawbones that quickly fell into angular cheekbones, and he skillfully carried his commanding nose forward. He had a body that was particularly Samson-like for a model. His large, ocean-blue eyes were often glowing with youthful vitality and eagerness. He had Irish eyes that seemed happy and kind. They looked like two diamonds floating in milk. His vibrant personality and courteous approach

"I was born and mostly raised in Scotland before spending 3 years in Ireland. My favourite movie is Wanted and my favourite TV show is Dead to Me. I die my hair a lot. I'm naturally dirty blonde. My favourite food is vegetarian sushi. And More than that there's really nothing to tell." "If you were raised in Scotland why is your Irish accent so strong?" Nick asks. I glare at him but I don't know why. He sends me a confused look back. "My mothers Irish and most of my nanny’s were Irish. But my dad and everyone else around me was Scottish so I switch between the two accents depending on who I'm with but I live with my mother so that's the one I use more." She explains. "And your favourite musi

Casie protested weakly, feeling a blush rise to her cheeks. "I raised seven children in a pack household, dear," Elena replied serenely. "There's very little that embarrasses me anymore." Rick accepted his mug with a mixture of gratitude and awkwardness. "Thank you, Mrs. Blackwood." "Elena, please. We're family now." She studied him with maternal intensity. "O'Connor bloodline. I can see it in your features now that your heritage has awakened. The Irish packs were known for their loyalty and uncommon sense of justice."

If there is one thing I've learned when dealing with the enforcer of the Irish mafia, it's that besides my sister he is the only other person who has the ability to piss me off and set me straight at the same time. A family trait I presume. Like most men in the mafia, Cillian was tough. One had to be if they worked in this profession; however, my uncle is a different type of tough. Always has been. He was compassionate, but at the same time, he possessed the ability to keep his emotions as hidden as a red ant under the sun.

“It was supposed to be simple. Soak up the cultures and return home with a better idea of how people ticked. Only, it did not stay simple. I met a human on isle that made my heart thump and my head to spin. Never were such feelings a part of my world. It was then that I understood the dangers, or maybe it should be called follies, that Arch’s and Loreli’s faced everytime they had to do time on earth.” Adora sat quietly, not realizing that her mouth was hanging open. Mother? On earth? Wow, this was worth listening to. Adora had a million questions but Mother did not allow her to ask anything. She probably would not be allowed to ask anything anyway. “Ireland is a beautiful place with its emer