On Dublin Street Novels & Stories

I said after our plates had been removed for the next course. “How about you guess where you think I’m from.” “The sixth level of hell,” I deadpanned. “My Catholic grandmama would agree, but I prefer the second level.” I remembered enough Dante from college to know which level that one was for: lust. The sixth was for heresy. I rolled my eyes. “Of course you would.” “I didn’t grow up in hell, but close enough,” said Liam, his accent lengthening. “I grew up in Ireland. Near Dublin, but I moved to the States when I was twenty.”

And just like that, Siobhan Sweeney found herself riding in a black, bulletproof car, with a handsome Irishman and his equally good-looking blonde brother for company. “I’m Liam O’Grady, “ beamed the Irishman, and Siobahn had smiled back uncertainly. “Siobhan Sweeney,” she offered, stretching out her hand and withdrawing it immediately. Her hands were dirty, grimy and bloody too. But the man had endeared himself to her when he said, holding her hands, as he winked, “Aah, lass, you are a heroine, you are.” And he had looked over at Rudolph Delano, standing brooding and grim, as he watched unsmilingly from a distance as the large car drew away.

I said, once again betraying my irritation. “Connolly Station it is,” the driver said, and I knew he was going to take the most expensive route that he bloody could. Streets. Trees. Cars. Dublin is a city I don’t know well. Drop me a few blocks from O’Connell Street and I’m banjaxed. I can get you to Trinity and St. Pat’s and a brothel opposite the Four Courts but that’s about it. It’s not my town at all. When I lived in Belfast I’d be down about twice a year for a rugby match. Don’t think I’ve ever stayed overnight. Lot of beggars about back then, now it’s yuppies with cell phones and PDAs.

“That’s it. I’m coming over and bringing wine and your favorite ice cream tonight. I might even throw in those bagels and cream cheese you like from that Irish bakery near me.” “Trying to ply me with bribes?” I noticed the station was recapping a news bulletin from the evening before and sighed. If I had to guess, I’d say there’d been another brutal murder in the heart of Louisville. They’d been increasing the last few months, word on the street the horrific bloodshed was being caused by an Irish mafia syndicate that had stepped foot into the city and surrounding area. Fortunately, I’d yet to be tasked with dealing with anyone within the organization as one of several high-volume prosecutors

🌹Aurora 🌹 The cab’s interior was dimly lit by the city’s early morning glow, a soft amber haze that did little to warm the chill that had settled inside me. I sat silently in the back, my thoughts a tangled mess of dread, uncertainty, and an inescapable guilt. Every mile took me further away from the small apartment I still called home and closer to the world that Damien Sterling and my family had planned for me—a world of glittering wealth and cold obligation.

Damien The New York Dispatch is open on my kitchen counter, and I’ve been staring at it long enough for the coffee to go cold. It’s amusing really . Upper East Royalty Goes Rogue at Club Noir Princess Thaliana, The Rossi Siblings, and Manhattan It Crowd Spotted in Midnight Mayhem

A literal jewel she is. I jerked my head, trying to shake the thought out of my head. I would not be a fool for Irina or her brother. I wouldn’t fall in the same trap my Da did. Whatever happened to him, the Petrovs were involved. And I would find out how if it was the last thing I did. I parked my bike in front of the pub Murphy had directed me to. ‘The Sportsman’s Arms’ was kind of an unoriginal name but hey, I wasn’t here to be a critic. I pulled the door open and wasn’t surprised to find that the pub was full.

He stood right in my doorway, staring at me like he had the right to be there. My neighbor. He was exactly how I remembered, only seemingly darker and more… intense. Dark curls, the tattoos visible on his biceps, before getting lost in the arms of his t-shirt. And his lips were held in a knowing smirk. There was a cup of coffee in one hand. “Hello, Daisy.” It was the same line from yesterday. “I’m Killian Darth, your new bodyguard.” My head shook at once, a frown settling on my forehead. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. This was a nightmare, right?

“Read that so you can stop looking at me like I’m Jesus.” Asshole. His attention returned to his work, and we arrived a few minutes later. Dublin, Ireland, wasn’t far. Realistically, we didn’t need to take a private plane. A car ride would have gotten us there. It would have taken longer, though. There were so many cars waiting for us when we got off the plane. Once again, I got into a different car than the one Cillian was in. He didn’t want to be close to me. I couldn’t blame him.

Watson lied. Damien stilled. 'Why is he lying?' he thought with a frown. "Oh really? I thought I saw your car passing through Mabel street. I was in that area, so I thought of giving you a call" Damien is pressing for information. Mabel street is the name of the street where Eva and Cassy reside.