Although they have become more frequent in recent years, Irish political memoirs are still relatively rare. Even rarer still are political memoirs that still are frank, newsworthy and fun, like this one from Mary O’Rourke. She writes of personal and political events; of her family background and her early involvement in politics: of the many senior political figures to whom she was close, especially Charles Haughey and Bertie Ahern; of her two beloved Brians, her brother and nephew, both of whom died before their time; of her successes and disappointments. She does all this with honesty, energy and a complete absence of self-pity or self-justification. Mary O’Rourke has been one of the most successful and influential women in Irish public life in a generation. She has stories to tell that will surprise and amuse, as well as recalling moments of personal and political sadness. The book is like the woman herself: open, warm and shrewd.
Louise's Los Angeles house is rapidly turning into rubble as her architect husband David takes a sledge-hammer to it as effectively as he has to their marriage. Louise escapes her unhappiness through fantasies of a former lover (who appears in various guises culled from movies and romantic fiction) and through her close, but often stormy, friendship with Bibi, a cook who dreams of becoming an animal behaviourist. They prop up each other's success, reminisce over past times, flatter each other, get drunk, experiment with kissing, slaughter each other with home truths and eventually part.
Mary O'Grady, an Irish peasant woman, discovers that motherhood brings her sorrow as it does joy.'Beautifully and insightfully captured the reality of rural Ireland, just as remote working renews village life' IRISH INDEPENDENT 'An impressive body of work' IRISH TIMES'There's the immense power with which she depicts the inner lives of women' PARIS REVIEW In the early 1900s, Mary O'Grady leaves behind the countryside and the family she cares for, to be with her husband in Dublin. Here she puts down new roots and looks forward to the day when she will return to Tullamore with her own sons and daughters. Marriage and motherhood sustain Mary, gradually the memories of her own childhood fade and her life revolves around the secure home she has created. But as her children grow, they seek the freedom of adults as she had done. Slowly Mary comes to realise that a mother's love cannot protect them, as it could not protect herself from the sorrows and tragedies of life.
In 1958, young Vivian Flynn planned to hold a cascading bouquet of daisies when she walked down the aisle. Then tragedy struck. Nearly six decades later, she's sitting in Mary O'Reilly Alden's office seeking her help in locating her long lost love. With the assistance of her friends Rosie and Stanley Wagner, Mary must solve the sixty-year-old mystery that took the life of dedicated teacher Robert Baker, locate his spirit, and reunite him with his bride-to-be.
Placing the bags on the counter, Donna slipped off her jacket and hung it on the back of a kitchen chair, and then she pulled an apron over her work clothes. She started unpacking the groceries, first putting the refrigerated foods away and then she started working on the canned goods. She smiled as she heard Ryan singing. It wasn't a tune she was familiar with, so he must have learned it in daycare."Where did you learn that song?" she asked him, leaning over the open counter to listen more closely to the words."Liza taught it to me," he said.She smiled. Ryan's invisible friend was certainly creative. "Well, say thank you to Liza for me," she replied. "It's a pretty song."He continued singing it, "Who will wipe away my tears? Who will chase away my fears? Who will sing me to sleep at night? Who will tuck me in real tight? Now that Momma's dead and gone, now that Momma's dead and gone."Slightly alarmed at the lyrics, Donna walked around the counter and entered the living room. "How would you like to watch your favorite cartoon?" she asked, picking up a DVD on a shelf next to the television set and sliding it into the DVD player."But Liza still wants to sing," Ryan said."Well, Liza can sing and you can watch television," she said. "How's that for a compromise."He nodded. "I guess that will be fine."She turned on the television and waited until Ryan's show started before returning to the kitchen to put away the rest of the groceries. She opened up a cupboard and was reaching up to the top shelf to put an extra jar of peanut butter away when she heard the soft voice behind her. It was high-pitched, like a little girl's voice, but it held an ethereal quality to it as it filled the kitchen. "Who will wipe away my tears? Who will chase away my fears? Who will sing me to sleep at night? Who will tuck me in real tight? Now that Momma's dead and gone, now that Momma's dead and gone."Mary O'Reilly receives a call from a friend in Galena urging her to drive there and speak with a woman who is sure her house is haunted by a little girl. Once she meets the child, she is astonished to discover the child was re-homed, an underground adoption practice still practiced in the United States. Unfortunately, her rehoming did not end well and Mary, Bradley and Mike search from a couple who "adopt" unwanted children and then murder them.
"But Sol, it ain't haunted like you thought," Marty argued cautiously. It wasn't a good idea to get Sol too angry. "We've tried everything, s ances, Ouija boards, mediums-everything. This place is just an old, empty house. A creepy, old house."Sol shook his head, disregarding Marty's words, and started up the tall staircase to the second floor. "It just has to seem like a haunted house," he said. "We'll keep the crowds coming if it seems like a haunted house. People pay good money to spend the night in a haunted mansion." Marty followed him, shaking his head. "After that last paranormal research group came through and found nothing, we ain't been getting the crowds like we used to," he pointed out. "People look on the internet for everything. All they have to do is research the house and they'll see we've been investigated by three different groups. They ain't gonna pay top dollar to stay in the state's most haunted house if it ain't got no ghosts."Sol stopped at the top of the stairs and waited for Marty. "Then all we need is a ghost," he said.Marty shook his head and put his hand on his partner's shoulder. "Sol, we've been at this for three years," he replied. "The balloon payment is coming up in three months. We ain't got the capital. We gotta let go of this place before we lose everything."Shoving Marty's arm off his shoulder, Sol paced angrily down the hallway. "Don't you get it, Marty?" he growled, his teeth clenched. "I'm going to lose everything if this place doesn't pan out. I sunk everything I owned into this place. I don't have any reserves. I don't have anything to turn to. This place has to work out."Marty leaned one hand on the balustrade at the top of the staircase and sadly shook his head. "I'm sorry, Sol. I'd do anything to help you," he said sadly. "But this place just ain't got a ghost."Sol sighed deeply and turned back to his friend, nodding his head slowly. "Thank you, Marty," he replied.A icy tremor of fear swept through Marty's body as he saw the cold, calculating look in Sol's eyes. He lifted his hands defensively. "No, Sol, no," he cried even as he felt the power of Sol's body knock him backwards and down the stairs.A few moments later, Sol stood at the top of the staircase, looking down at the broken, lifeless body of his business partner sprawled unnaturally on the black and white, ceramic tiled, lobby floor. He leaned against the same balustrade that only moments before had been held by Marty and nodded. "And now we have a ghost." Mary, Ian and Mike investigate a supposedly haunted house and discover there are more than just ghosts hidden behind its doors.
The bedroom door flew open with a powerful crash. "What the...?" Mary exclaimed. Mike nodded. "Yeah, well see, that's the problem," he said with a sigh. "You brought someone home with you tonight.""What?" "And it looks like she's not real happy about your relationship with Bradley," he said."I have a jealous ghost in my house?" Mary asked, astonished.Mike shook his head apologetically. "No, sweetheart," he said. "You have a jealous poltergeist in your home."As if on cue, the drawers in Mary's dresser opened, and her clothing started flying across the room. Mary turned back to Mike. "Really?" she asked. "Like I need this now?"She walked into the center of her bedroom and immediately was hit in the face by a pair of her own underwear. And this time she was sure of it. She heard a giggle, and then suddenly the entire room was filling with swirling clothing.Bradley came running into the room and the ruckus ended. "What happened?" he asked."I think I just met one of your former girlfriends," Mary said, pulling a pair of underwear from out of her neckline. "And I don't think she was very happy to meet me."
Ruth McCredie was about in the middle of the field, she decided. Thiswould be a good place to get a few more samples. She looked back at therow she was standing in and saw four ears laying in the dirt."Perfect," she said, reaching back for another plastic bag. "These will begreat."Hurrying down the row towards the ears, she was surprised to hear a crackin the distance. Before she could react, she felt the blow of the bullet enteringher body. She stared, wide-eyed, at the blood blossoming across hersweatshirt."I've been..." she began, more bewildered than afraid, but then her kneesgave out and she fell to the ground. The soft earth absorbed the impact fromthe fall, but a sharp stalk scraped her face. She gasped in pain, but the gaspgave way to choking as her life ebbed away, the rich, brown soil absorbingher blood.A bullet shot rings out on the night of the Super Moon and a promising collegestudent is killed. Was it an accident, or did her research into falseclaims by a bio-tech, agricultural company garner her too much attention?The wrong kind of attention. Mary and Bradley have to find out or Ruth McCredie will never rest.
When Mary O'Toole was a girl in County Carlow, Ireland, she dreamed of life beyond her small town. To make her dreams come true, she worked hard. She took on small jobs, such as mending clothing and doing errands for her neighbors. She saved every penny she earned. At age 16 all of her hard work and saving paid off when she left Ireland and sailed to America In America, she continued to work hard, trying to make her life better and learning new things including stenography (writing for law). She was the top student in her class and was offered a position as a stenographer for Judge Monroe Wheeler. Mary O'Toole moved to Washington, D.C. and while working full time, she started law school. Mary opened her own law office and became the first female Municipal Court Judge in the US. Her seal of office had to have the words "his" crossed out in pen to be replaced with the words "hers." She was first appointed Judge of the Municipal Court of Washington, D.C. by President Harding in 1921. She was one of only three women judges in the United States at the time. Mary O'Toole dreamed a dream beyond her small town and through hard work, she made that dream come true
When Mary O'Toole was a girl in County Carlow, Ireland, she dreamed of life beyond her small town. To make her dreams come true, she worked hard. She took on small jobs, such as mending clothing and doing errands for her neighbors. She saved every penny she earned. At age 16 all of her hard work and saving paid off when she left Ireland and sailed to America In America, she continued to work hard, trying to make her life better and learning new things including stenography (writing for law). She was the top student in her class and was offered a position as a stenographer for Judge Monroe Wheeler. Mary O'Toole moved to Washington, D.C. and while working full time, she started law school. Mary opened her own law office and became the first female Municipal Court Judge in the US. Her seal of office had to have the words "his" crossed out in pen to be replaced with the words "hers." She was first appointed Judge of the Municipal Court of Washington, D.C. by President Harding in 1921. She was one of only three women judges in the United States at the time. Mary O'Toole dreamed a dream beyond her small town and through hard work, she made that dream come true
Mandy, a novice nurse at Freeport hospital, took the elevator down to get supplies for her area. It only took a moment to go from four down to three. The elevator doors opened to a dimly lit floor. She walked out and glanced to her right. The empty nurses station was just down the hall before the double doors that she assumed led to the now empty rooms. There were a few boxes on the counter that surrounded the station, but other than those, the station was empty. She turned to the left and saw the closed door with the word "Supplies" stenciled on it. Hurrying over to the doors, she pulled out the key and inserted it into the lock. A light switch was conveniently located right inside the door and Mandy switched it on. Bright light flooded the interior of the supply room. Metal shelves lined up in narrow aisles throughout the room. She easily located the sheets and also found a plastic tub she could use to carry them upstairs. She piled the sheets into the tub, carried them out of the room, then turned off the light and then locked the door.Hefting the tub back into her arms, she turned around and was surprised to see a little girl standing next to the empty nurses station. Mandy guessed the little girl was about eight years old. She had a hospital gown on and her hair was styled in two braids that hung on either side of her head. She must have wandered away from the Pediatric Ward on the second floor. "Hey sweetheart," she said. "I'm Mandy. Are you lost?"The girl stared at the nurse for a long moment, but didn't answer."Come on, I can bring you back to your room," Mandy coaxed, not wanting to frighten the child. The child didn't respond. Mandy put the tub down, looked back up and the child was gone. Shaking her head in surprise, Mandy slowly stepped forward, her heart thumping in her chest. The little girl must have dashed behind the counter, that had to be where she was. "Little girl," she called. "Where are you?"She peeked behind the nurses station expecting to find the child hiding, but no one was there. All of the cabinets and desks that used to be behind the counter were gone, so just the shell of the counter stood around her. There was nowhere to hide. Nowhere to go.A chill ran up Mandy's spine.She backed away from the station, her mouth dry and her heart pounding. She grabbed the tub of sheets and dashed to the elevator, beating on the button in desperation. Not daring to look over her shoulder at the wing behind her. Finally, the elevator doors opened, and she nearly tripped getting in, she was so eager to leave the floor. She pressed the fourth-floor button and gasped with relief when the doors opened into the bright floor.Mary and Bradley help solve the mystery that is keeping the ghosts of thirteen children stranded in an unused section of the hospital. And, with Mikey arrival imminent, they prepare for other changes in the Alden household.
Morrer foi o que mudou a vida de Mary O'Reilly. Bom, na verdade foi ressuscitar e conseguir se comunicar com fantasmas. Agora, como detetive particular na cidade rural de Freeport, no estado de Illinois, Mary tentar combinar sua experi ncia como policial em Chicago e seu novo talento. O desafio resolver mist rios, encontrar provas cabais (a palavra de um fantasma n o o suficiente no tribunal) e garantir que a popula o da cidade, especialmente o bonit o que o novo chefe da pol cia, n o acabem pensando que ela louca. H 24 anos, uma jovem se afogou na piscina de um senador estadual rec m-eleito. O caso foi encerrado como se tivesse sido um acidente, mas agora que o senador se prepara para subir de cargo, o fantasma da mo a est aparecendo para a esposa dele. Mary foi contratada para descobrir a verdade por detr s da morte da jovem. Ela acaba descobrindo uma rela o entre o assassinato e o desaparecimento de cinco meninas que, 24 anos mais tarde, continua sem solu o. Conforme procura respostas, Mary se torna a pr xima v tima na mira de um assassino em s rie que n o quer deixar nenhum caso mal resolvido.
Mary O'Leary would have been hanged for treason if the British authorities knew what she was putting into her poems. But because she composed them in Irish they remained blissfully unaware of her rebel sentiments and nationalist opinions.Best known around her native West Cork as M ire Bhu N Laoire (the Irish-language version of her name), this celebrated folk poet of the 19th century composed poems that were built to last. After being passed orally from generation to generation, the songs were collected and preserved by folklorists and now occupy a significant place in the repertoires of contemporary traditional sean n s (old style) performers.Irish-Canadian author Brian Brennan, a descendant of the poet, collected her entire canon for inclusion in this book, and has displayed new English-language translations on opposite pages from the Irish-language originals.Adding biographical and archival context to the poems, Brennan has also included a short history of the O'Leary clan dating back to the 12th century, together with the story of the poet and her family. The result is a deserved tribute to one of the few female oral poets of her generation to achieve name recognition after her death.Reviewer Catherine Ketch of the Irish Examiner has called this book "an important contribution to the literature of Irish studies at a time when there is a worldwide resurgence of interest in Celtic poetry and song." Add it to your library today.
