Showing posts with label Pat McDermott. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pat McDermott. Show all posts

Monday, February 8, 2016

Unholy Crossing by Pat McDermott

Who doesn’t love a good ghost story, especially one set in Ireland? A visit to Tubbercurry in County Sligo last summer inspired this one. It all began when my aunt learned I planned to call on my cousin Michael, whom I hadn’t seen for years.
 
“Tell him I want that picture of my grandmother!” she said. “It’s in Grannie’s old trunk! Bridgie told me she put it there.” (Grannie was Michael’s grandmother, my grandmother’s sister.)
 
Years ago, my aunt lent a photo of her grandmother, my great-grandmother, to Michael’s mother Bridgie for inclusion in a historical publication. My great-grandmother was a schoolteacher, and the publishers wanted to feature her in a Who’s Who type section. Sadly, by the time I went over, Bridgie had passed away.
 
Undaunted by family intrigue, Michael gave me a grand tour. We saw the remains of the house where our grandmothers grew up, the ruins of the schoolhouse where our great-grandmother taught, and the cemetery where many family members rest. He knew nothing about the photo, though he knew about the trunk, stored in the ruins of a cottage near his childhood home.
 
“Look all you like,” he said. “But I’m telling you, my father wouldn’t touch that trunk, and neither will I.”
 
Michael has a touch of the Blarney about him, yet he seemed quite serious when we reached the cottage. I'd no sooner opened the trunk when a shrieking flock of crows flew above us. The wind rose and tore off a piece of the old door. I thought it was great fun, but Michael quickly left the place and said he’d wait outside.
 
I never found the photo, and I didn't care. The trunk had captured me. I closed it up and wondered where it came from, how it got there, and what it had seen and heard. And let’s not forget the sound effects. Whether the crows and the wind were a coincidence, or whether Ireland had cast another of its spells, I had a story—if Grannie would let me use her trunk.
 
Apparently, she didn’t mind. Here’s the Blurb and an Excerpt from Unholy Crossing.
 
Blurb
A Spectral Stowaway Opens the Door to Ireland's Pagan Past...
It’s 1912, and America has lost its charm for Noreen Carbury, an educated young lady from Ireland. For five long years, Noreen has looked after the children of Boston’s well-to-do. Homesick and vexed by the gentry’s demeaning views toward immigrants, she schedules a voyage to visit her family in County Sligo.
 
Beneath the clothing and gifts she packs in her steamer trunk, Noreen conceals a wooden box whose grisly contents she’s promised to transport to Ireland. She boards a splendid new steamship expecting a crossing fit for a queen, yet her trunk has somehow harbored a spirit who plagues her during the week-long trip. She believes that once she delivers the box, the phantom will leave her alone. Although she keeps her promise, the visitations grow more sinister, pitting her strict Catholic upbringing against Ireland’s pagan past.
 
To protect the reputation of the man she loves, Noreen says nothing of the mysterious incidents. For decades, she bears the burden alone, until the elderly woman she becomes confesses the spine-chilling tale of the Unholy Crossing.
 
Excerpt
The Laconia sailed east, past the islands in Boston Harbor. Soon she would turn northeast. Toward Ireland.
 
Toward home.
 
I unlocked my cabin door and gasped at the room’s icy temperature. Annoyed that the heater had failed to perform, I eyed the button that summoned the steward. As I crossed the room to push it, I glanced at the photos on the desk and froze.
 
What I’m telling you now is the truth, I swear. As I gazed at the portrait of Ned and me, a golden glow rose from the top of the silver frame. A dark-haired image appeared between us.
 
Had I drunk more wine than I should, you ask? On my word, I did not. The woman was there, in the portrait, staring. Staring at me. Smiling.
* * * * *
Unholy Crossing - A Novella/Novelette Available in Print and eBook from

Thursday, June 25, 2015

A Pot of Glimmer

Adventure and Romance in Ireland for Young Adults of All Ages! Book Three in the Glimmer Series is out. No worries if you haven’t read the first two. Each book can stand alone.

The cast members include Janet, an American teen whose grandfather serves as the U.S. Ambassador to Ireland; Liam, an Irish teen whose father is the King of Ireland; and, members of Ireland’s unpredictable fairy clans. It’s the leprechauns who shake things up in A Pot of Glimmer, a rollicking ride spanning centuries.

Here’s the Blurb (an Excerpt follows):
A leprechaun’s feud with a Viking ghoul puts Liam and Janet in deadly danger…

Ireland - January 1014 Fledgling leprechaun Awley O’Hay leads a raid on a Dublin mint. The mission:steal a shipment of coins to aid the High King, Brian Boru, in his war against the Vikings. Awley and his team plan the heist with commando precision, but they hit a glitch and only escape a bloodthirsty mob with the help of Hazel, the uncommon sister of one of the leprechauns. Yet the money master’s vengeful ghost troubles Awley for centuries. So do Awley’s forbidden feelings for Hazel.

Ireland - July 2015
Janet Gleason has had her fill of fairies. They’ve not only plagued the American teen since she arrived in Dublin, they’ve also hindered her romance with her gallant friend, Prince Liam Boru. When Janet’s grandfather, the U.S. Ambassador to Ireland, throws a Fourth of July celebration, Liam reluctantly attends with the rest of the royal family.

Also attending are several uninvited guests. A fairy witch named Becula arrives with Hazel, her clever and quirky protégée, to beg a favor of Janet. The unplanned appearance of Awley O’Hay and his leprechaun pals triggers a chilling visit from the money master, now an undead monster hungry for human flesh.

Liam and Janet fall into a nightmare that tests their courage in ways they never imagined. Nor did they imagine that real leprechauns are nothing like the “little men” of Irish lore.
* * * * *
Excerpt - Young love has its problems, but Janet and Liam seem to have more than their fair share of trouble. Can they rekindle their former romance? Should they?
* * * * *
The formal reception room beside the foyer seemed a silly place for teens in casual clothes to meet. When Janet first came to Deerfield House, she’d disliked the opulent room and its overwhelming chandelier. She’d thought it pretentious and fussy. Now it was merely another room. Liam and Kevin must feel that way about their royal digs, she thought as she slipped in behind them, her theater eye regarding them as actors on a stunning set.

Only inches apart, Kevin and Matti were laughing. Liam stood away from them, saying nothing, thumbs hooked in the pockets of his tailored jeans. He wore contact lenses instead of his gold-rimmed glasses. His hunter green rugby shirt set off his dark red hair and cinnamon eyes and flattered his well-toned physique. He needed a haircut. A sudden desire to touch the rebellious curls at the tops of his ears confused her.

Waving the shears, she made her entrance as if she were following chalk marks on a stage. “Hi, guys.”

Liam turned. His eyes grew wide. He slapped his hands over his heart. “I beg you, lady young and fair, to lay your weapons down!”

His dramatic performance made her chuckle. She laughed out loud at the agonized look on Kevin’s face.

“Eejit,” he said. “I wouldn’t blame her if she skewered you.”

“Aw, come on, Kev,” Matti said. “I like Liam’s poems.”

Liam made a slight bow. “Thank you, fair Matti.”

“Gee,” she said. “I’m starting to wish I had a weapon too.”

“You don’t need one,” Liam said. “Your tresses black, your garnet lips, your cutting azure glance, can murder unsuspecting swains with neither knife nor lance.”

Kevin groaned. “I’m losing the will to live here. What’s the garden stuff for, anyway? I thought we were going to the zoo.”

“We are.” Still grinning at Liam’s theatrics, Janet placed the shears in the basket. “My grandfather asked me to put these away. Why don’t you two go on ahead? We’ll catch up.”

Kevin and Matti happily agreed. Janet opened the front door Out on the lawn, workers were clearing yesterday’s stands and tents. Chatting away, Kevin and Matti ambled down the sun-drenched driveway. A burst of noise from the workmen drowned out their conversation.

Liam took the basket from Janet. “Where’s the shed?” he shouted.

She pointed to the right. They strolled to the back of the house, where stands of thick green shrubs subdued the racket. As they turned up the path to the shed, they both spoke at the same time.

“Sorry,” he said.

“No, I’m sorry. What were you going to say?”

“Only…nothing. Are you coming to my father’s birthday outing tomorrow?”

“I don’t think so. Matti’s here. We have plans.”

“You know she’d be welcome. Kevin will be there.”

Janet reached for the latch on the potting shed door. “I know, but—”

“But one day with the Boru boys is enough for you, eh?” He spoke with the comical flair he’d used to recite his poem. Then he grew more serious. “I’m sorry you’re stuck with me today.”

Her hand hung suspended over the latch. “What are you talking about? I was going to apologize for putting you in an awkward situation.”

“It’s not awkward, Jan.” He kicked at the grass. “Well, maybe a little, but only because you said you didn’t want to see me anymore. It’s Kevin. He asked me to come, y’see. He thought Matti wouldn’t want to be alone with him. Guess he was wrong about that.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Thoughts scrambling, Janet opened the door and placed the basket on the potting bench. The pungent odor of cow manure wrinkled her nose. She wasted no time escaping the shed and shutting the door, and not because of the smell.

She wanted to touch those curls at the tops of Liam’s ears. “Liam, I like you. A lot. I’d like you even if you hadn’t saved me from the fairies. Twice.”

“That’s a memorable reason, I expect.”

“But it’s not the only reason. You’re a great guy, and I’m glad we’re friends. I have no problem with us having a date today, as long as it’s okay with you. I just don’t want a steady boyfriend.”

“So you’ve said, and I agree. I’m glad we’re friends too. Anyway, the best you’d get with me is an unsteady boyfriend.” He caught her hands and drew them to his lips for a pair of proper royal kisses.

Not fair, Liam!

His eyes seemed locked in place, so intensely did he stare at her. She eased her hands from his, not to escape his handclasp, but to touch those curls at the tops of his ears. She had to stand on her toes to reach them. When she did, he hooked his arms around her and hugged her tight.

The woodsy scent of him entranced her. Was that pounding heartbeat his or hers? No longer caring about steady or unsteady anything, she raised her chin in hopes he’d kiss her.

He did, a neat little peck that chased all thought from her buzzing head, but he broke their embrace and backed away. “I’m sorry, Jan.”

“I’m not.” She ran her hands from his sturdy chest to the back of his neck and drew his head to hers for the lingering, pulsing sort of kiss they’d often shared. “I mean, I am,” she said when she could speak again. “Oh Li, I don’t know what I mean!”

He opened his mouth to respond. A woman’s piercing cry cut him off.

“Is somebody there? Help me! Oh, please help me!”

Janet exchanged “uh oh” looks with Liam. “Where are you?” she called.

“Herbs! Please help me!”

Liam’s gaze raked the sunlit lawn. “Where are the herbs, Jan?”

“This way.” She pivoted left.
* * * * *
Boston, Massachusetts native Pat McDermott writes romantic action/adventure stories set in an Ireland that might have been. Glancing Through the Glimmer, Autumn Glimmer, and A Pot of Glimmer are young adult paranormal adventures featuring Ireland's mischievous fairies. The Glimmer Books are "prequels" to her popular Band of Roses Trilogy: A Band of Roses, Fiery Roses, and Salty Roses. The Rosewood Whistle is her first contemporary romance.

Pat’s favorite non-writing activities include cooking, hiking, reading, and traveling, especially to Ireland. She lives and writes in New Hampshire, USA. Excerpts from her books are available on her website: http://www.patmcdermott.net
* * * * *
A Pot of Glimmer / Available in Print and eBook

Sunday, February 16, 2014

The Band of Roses Trilogy - Adventure and Romance in Ireland

April 23, 2014 marks the 1000-year anniversary of Ireland's bloody Battle of Clontarf. On Good Friday in 1014 A.D., the armies of High King Brian Boru challenged a host of Vikings and their allies on the plains of Clontarf, north of Dublin. Though Brian’s troops were victorious, he was murdered by fleeing Vikings as he prayed in his tent.

Many historians have speculated that Ireland would be a different place today if King Brian had survived the Battle of Clontarf. The Band of Roses Trilogy, a romantic action/adventure series set in modern Ireland, supposes he did survive and established a royal dynasty that still rules the Emerald Isle. The current King Brian upholds ancient traditions, as does his daughter, Crown Princess Talty, though Talty has a knack for landing in trouble. She wishes she were anyone but the heir to her father's throne—and she learns to be careful what she wishes for.

In Book One, A Band of Roses, Talty must hide her identity to outwit assassins, but she can't hide her ingrained training as a warrior sworn to protect her homeland. From Japan to California to an eleventh century Ireland, she finds romance and adventure, yet all she wants is to return to her family and Neil Boru, the adoptive cousin she secretly loves and cannot have—or so she thinks.

In the second book, Fiery Roses, the discovery of offshore gas ensnares the Boru clan in a web of blackmail and murder. When the residents of rural County Mayo object to pipelines on their land, an arsonist tries to change their minds. One of his fires sends newlyweds Talty and Neil to an ancient world at the mercy of a waking volcano, where they must fight not only to survive, but to save their fledgling marriage.

Book Three, Salty Roses, finds the dynamic princess believing her days of adventure are over. Her royal duties seem endless, and a day off with Neil is looking good. The royal couple accepts an invitation for a jaunt aboard a luxury submarine. As they view an eerie shipwreck, an unknown enemy lures them to an ancient tomb and sends them to a world infested with treacherous pirates. Talty takes charge of a pirate ship and its mangy crew, while Neil matches wits with a temptress who
jeopardizes his wedding vows.

In this Excerpt from A Band of Roses, a military assignment teams Talty with her 'Veddy' English commanding officer, Richard Gale, who knows her as Major Christy McKenna. In an experiment gone wrong, they arrive in our world in 1014 A.D., just before the Battle of Clontarf. They've met a lady named Leesha, whose handsome son Gayth has his eye on Talty. In this scene, Gayth is leading his Dalcassian clan to aid King Brian in his fight against the Vikings—but Gayth has more than warfare on his mind.
* * * * *
For three rainy days, the Dalcassians rode two hundred strong. On the third day, Gayth called a stop to rest. Talty and Richard tethered their horses and made their separate camp. While Richard prepared a fire pit, Talty rummaged beneath the shrubbery to find dry wood.

“Can’t we cheat and use matches, Richard? I’m tired of being cold and wet.”

“So am I.” Richard poked through his toolkit until he found the waterproof matchbox. When the fire was burning well, they finished the last of their oatcakes and ale.

“So here I am, the protector of a holy woman. Who knew?”

Talty winced. She regretted agreeing to the deception. Gayth had told the men her presence would protect them. “I wish Leesha hadn’t started this. I’m not some saint who can heal battle wounds with a touch.”

“They don’t know that, darling. We have an edge as long as they think you’re no ordinary woman. Why did she say that, anyway?”

“She was afraid I’d spirit Gayth away to fairyland. She needn’t have worried, though. He seems able to resist me just fine.”

“Perhaps you married too young to learn how devious men can be. Our friend Gayth isn’t finished with you, holy woman.”

Gayth stepped from the darkness. “My kinsmen are grateful for your fire. The furze is too wet to burn. They invite you to join them in a game of spear fishing, Richard. There’s salmon nearby, and we need the food as well as the sport.”

“I’m reluctant to leave Christy alone.”

Talty bristled at Richard’s protectiveness. “You should get to know the men. I’ll be safe enough at my prayers.”

Gayth’s chocolate eyes sparkled in the firelight. “I will stay and protect you while you pray.”

Still smiling, Richard found a spear and went off to fish. Though Talty had encouraged him to go, his abandonment annoyed her. “I’m going to pray beside the pond. It could be a watering hole for game.”

“You hunt game, holy woman?”

“Even holy women must eat.” She left him by the fire and was soon scanning the ground at the edge of the pond. The twilight’s glow revealed animal tracks in the rain-damp soil. She walked toward a dense stand of trees, not quite sorry that Gayth and his sparkling eyes had caught up.

“Did you see any tracks?” he asked.

“Yes. Deer, I think. Smaller game as well, and I’m sure I heard waterfowl a while ago.”

“I like roast goose. Can you pray for some?”

Silently groaning, she studied the sky. “Do we have time to roast meat?”

“The men must eat. Once we’ve rested and refilled our food sacks, we’ll ride again. We should reach Dublin in three, maybe four days’ time.”

“What day is this?”

“Monday of Holy Week. What holy woman wouldn’t know that?”

Barely aware of his teasing tone, she supposed they could reach Dublin by Good Friday, though that would be cutting it close. Yet in this world, the Battle of Clontarf might not take place on Good Friday. Perhaps no battle would occur at all. Perplexed, she stole into the trees.

Gayth followed her.

“This will make a fine blind.” She spoke more to herself than to Gayth.

“You intend to wait here for deer? Praying?”

Ignoring him, she returned to the fire to bank the embers and fetch the Viking bow.

Gayth was right beside her.

She slung the quiver and arrows over her shoulder. Her hooded cloak went on next to protect both her and the bow from the weather.

Her preparations seemed to mystify Gayth. “Why don’t you simply rush the herd and cast a spear when they bolt?”

“This way I’ll get the deer I want, not one who falls behind because it’s old or sick.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“I need silence.”

“Yes, I know. To pray. I promise to be quiet.”

They stood in the natural blind together and watched the water’s edge. She didn’t resist when he pulled her against him.

“Lean on me, lady,” he whispered. “Rest a little.”

He wrapped his cloak around her. She leaned against him, breathing in smoke and sweat, banishing all thought until a small herd of deer appeared to investigate the clearing. Though tempted to forget them, she broke away from Gayth and uncovered her bow. Silence was critical now.

He caught her face in his hands and kissed her well. After the briefest pause, she kissed him back, grateful for the fading light that hid her burning cheeks. Then she nudged him away. The deer wouldn’t tarry long.

Kiyoshi’s words flowed back to her: See the target as a reflection of your mind, as a mirror. Your mind will find the target.

Gayth stepped back. Talty fixed on the biggest doe in the herd. She drew without breathing, released, and held her position until the arrow pierced the doe’s side.

Shot clean through, the doe hovered over the ground for the briefest moment before collapsing in a motion so natural, the other deer failed to notice. The arrow’s strange whoosh had alarmed them, however. They scattered into the forest.

Pleased with her success, Talty lowered her bow. The kiss that lingered on her lips unexpectedly angered her. “Why are you here, Gayth? You ran from me before.”

“I ran from a holy woman. Your warrior skills bestir most unholy thoughts in me.”
* * * * *
Thank you for reading!
Pat McDermott
Pat’s Website

Saturday, September 28, 2013

Autumn Glimmer: Just in Time for Halloween

Pat McDermott here, back this time with Autumn Glimmer, a paranormal adventure for young adults of all ages, and I'm happy to announce that the book is now available in print. Set in an Ireland that might have been, Autumn Glimmer is the sequel to Glancing Through the Glimmer. The "Glimmer" books feature Ireland's mischievous fairies, who refer to their magic as glimmer. The stories are prequels to the Band of Roses Trilogy, whose "what if" premise supposes that High King Brian Boru survived the Battle of Clontarf in 1014 A.D. and established a royal dynasty still in existence.

Teenage Prince Liam stars in the Glimmer books, along with his American friend, Janet Gleason, who can’t seem to stay away from the fairies.
Because Janet’s grandfather is the U.S. Ambassador to Ireland, Janet lives in Dublin and attends an upscale boarding school. She still misses Boston, especially in autumn, when New England’s trees are so gorgeously vibrant. But she’s settled into her new life well and landed the lead in the next school play. When King Brian invites the Gleasons to his country estate to celebrate Halloween, Janet is happy: she’ll be with Liam again.

She should know Ireland better by now…

Blurb for Autumn Glimmer:
Janet and Liam meet again for a Halloween weekend they’ll never forget… Fairies living beneath the lake on the King of Ireland’s country estate? Janet Gleason isn’t surprised. The American teen and her royal friend, Prince Liam Boru, have met the Good People before. Just before Halloween, three of the fairies, Blinn, Mell, and Lewy, leave their watery home to fill a magical bag with the flowers their queen requires to keep a hungry monster asleep. A tragic ride on a Fairy Wind leaves poor Lewy lost and alone. Can Liam and Janet help him find the flower bag before the monster awakens? Or will Lewy’s misguided glimmer trap the young mortals forever in the palace beneath the lake?

Excerpt:
Below the bubble, the water brightened to lustrous cobalt blue. Stars seemed to shimmer deep in the lake. A forest of vegetation waved on the lake bed. The impossible sight of crystal towers emerged beyond the greenery, and Liam wanted to dance.

Janet raised a hand to her face. “It’s lovely, but why does it smell so bad?”

She was right. A nasty whiff of something vile had seeped into the bubble.

Becula raised her arms. “Hasten!"

The bubble’s downward speed increased. The stench intensified. Trying to pinpoint its source, Liam scanned the ghostly lake. An amber mist glowed in the inky water beyond the light and seemed to be pursuing them.

“What is it?” he asked, dreading the answer.

“The Crogall Cú,” said Becula, her nonchalant tone at odds with the stiffened sags and bags on her face. “When it hunts, its nostrils blow foul vapors to confuse its prey. Fear not, young prince. It shall not harm us.”

A terrible roar tore through the bubble. Janet yipped and clung to Liam. Squashing his lips to keep from yipping himself, he hugged her to him. The mist billowed into to a putrid fog that poured like custard to sully the water. Another roar, much closer this time, jolted the bubble.

Janet screamed. Liam’s heart leapt into his throat. A blood-red eye as big as an autumn moon stared in at them from the water. How could such a behemoth exist in the little pond? Liam tightened his hold on Janet and hoped the Invincible Orb lived up to its name.
* * * * *
About Pat McDermott:
Boston native Pat McDermott writes romantic action/adventure stories set in Ireland. Pat is a member of the New Hampshire Writers’ Project, Romance Writers of America, and Celtic Hearts Romance Writers. Her favorite non-writing activities include cooking, hiking, reading, and traveling, especially to Ireland. She lives and writes in New Hampshire, USA.


Autumn Glimmer / Available from
Amazon U.S.
Amazon U.K.


Pat’s Web Site

Sunday, September 8, 2013

Salty Roses Rounds Off the Band of Roses Trilogy

Pat McDermott here, announcing that Salty Roses, Book Three in the Band of Roses Trilogy, has just been released in print. That means the entire trilogy is available in paperback!

The Band of Roses Trilogy, a series of romantic action/adventures set in a modern Ireland that might have been, supposes that High King Brian Boru survived the Battle of Clontarf in 1014 A.D. and established a royal dynasty that rules Ireland to this day. As head of state, the current King Brian upholds ancient traditions, as does his daughter, Crown Princess Talty, though Talty has a knack for landing in trouble.

Book One, A Band of Roses - The indomitable princess must hide her identity to outwit assassins, but she can't hide her ingrained training as a warrior sworn to protect her homeland. From Japan to California to an eleventh century Ireland, she finds romance and adventure, yet all she wants is to return to her family and Neil Boru, the adoptive cousin she secretly loves and cannot have—or so she thinks.

In Book Two, Fiery Roses, a major discovery of offshore gas ensnares the Boru clan in a web of blackmail and murder. When the residents of rural County Mayo object to plans to run pipelines over their pristine bogs, an arsonist tries to change their minds. One of his fires sends newlyweds Talty and Neil to an ancient world at the mercy of a waking volcano. While they struggle to outwit a tyrant with a shocking secret, King Brian locks horns with ruthless oilmen. The resulting conflict proves fatal for the Boru clan, whose members once again close ranks to thwart the latest threat to the kingdom they are sworn to protect.

Book Three, Salty Roses, finds the dynamic heir to the Irish throne thinking her days of exotic adventure are all done and dusted, yet Talty's royal duties seem endless, and a day off with handsome husband Neil is looking good. Former naval officer Talty eagerly accepts an eccentric billionaire’s invitation to sail aboard his luxury submarine, but as she and Neil dive beneath the waves to view an eerie shipwreck, a sinister plot unfolds. An unknown enemy lures them to an ancient tomb and sends them to a world infested with treacherous pirates. Talty takes charge of a pirate ship and its mangy crew, while Neil matches wits with a steamy temptress who jeopardizes his wedding vows. As he and Talty fight to save their marriage, they learn that the door to parallel worlds swings both ways.

An Excerpt from Salty Roses:
The wind fills the rigging and whips my hair. Salt spray dampens my face. The men at the oars propel my galley over the sea to capture the foolish merchant ship that dared to invade my waters. She sits low in the waves, weighed down with gold and silver, packed with silk and spices from the Far East. She’s mine.

"Man the cannons!” I shout from the gun deck. “Prepare to board her!”


“Your Highness? We have here a model of Granuaile’s galley. Not an exact reproduction, but assembled as closely as possible from the descriptions in the existing records.”

The droning words seeped into Talty’s fantasy like ink drops clouding a pool of water. The bracing tang of briny air gave way to the scent of new wood and fresh paint. She was back in the Grace O’Malley museum in Louisburg, Mayo.

You’ll walk the plank for this, me bucko!

Though miffed that the curator’s ongoing narrative had spoiled her imagined adventure, she smiled graciously at the gangly, white-haired man. “The ship looks quite authentic, Mr. Gavin.”

The raisin-like eyes behind his glasses squinted back at her. “Grania had several galleys under her command.” Gavin walked on, babbling away about tribal warfare in sixteenth century Ireland.

Talty knew the story of Granuaile, also known as Pirate Queen Grania “Grace” O’Malley, yet she listened politely, ambling along after Gavin to the next display. Neil stopped beside her, biting his lip the way he did when trying not to laugh. The merry gleam in his eye said he’d caught her daydreaming.

She stepped on his foot. “I understand Grania divorced one of her husbands and locked him out of his castle.”

Gavin didn’t miss a beat. “Richard Bourke. Sometimes known as Iron Dick.”

Neil’s polite cough barely muffled a snort of laughter. “The fella possessed exceptional marital skills, did he?”

Talty stepped harder on his foot, somehow managing to keep her public smile in place. “Isn’t the name from the armor he wore?”

Gavin’s unsmiling face betrayed no awareness of their playful interaction. His attention seemed riveted on the exhibit before him. He clasped his hands behind his back. “That’s one theory. The name may have referred to an ironworks on his property. Unfortunately, we have more folklore than fact about the history of this time. It’s folklore that tells us how Grania herself became known as Granuaile. ‘Gráinne Mhaol’ means ‘Bald Grace’ in Irish. Legend has it she cut her hair after her father refused to take her along on his voyages. He claimed her hair was so long, it would get caught in the rigging.”

Neil tugged Talty’s shoulder length hair. “Obviously he let her sail with him after that.”

“Obviously. This ends the tour, ma’am. If you’re ready, we’ll officially open the museum.” Gavin started for the door.

Talty followed, recalling one of her favorite stories about Grace O’Malley. Only hours after the Pirate Queen gave birth to a son in her cabin, foreign pirates attacked her galley. Grace appeared on deck clad only in a blanket. She shot the pirate captain with her blunderbuss pistol and led her men to victory. Having recently experienced childbirth herself, Talty found her admiration of the legendary woman turning to awe.

The wax figures of Granuaile and her husbands, sons, and enemies positioned throughout the room appeared ready to step down and strike up a conversation. Colorful murals on the walls portrayed seascapes and sixteenth century sailing vessels, adding to the fanciful mood.

This morning’s formalities would be modest compared to the afternoon gala at the Marine Foundation, yet Talty suspected she would spend the most enjoyable part of her day here in Mayo. The Marine Foundation was important, yes, but the reception following its opening ceremony was “by invitation only.” She dreaded facing the fawning, praise-seeking politicians who’d have the run of the place, and she didn’t care a whit if she ever met the billionaire tycoon, Roxy what’s-his-name.

The Granuaile event was open to the public. Talty looked forward to her allotted forty-five minutes of shaking hands and chatting with the people before the Morrigan whisked her south to Galway. Silently rehearsing her short speech, she walked between Neil and Gavin to the Granuaile Center’s humble lobby. The standing crowd enthusiastically applauded her entry.

Despite the warm welcome, Barry and Rory stood guard on either side of the packed little room. Their eagle-eyed vigilance was more than adequate for this quiet corner of Mayo. Security at the Marine Foundation would be tighter than a goatskin on a drum.

Her public smile firmly in place, Talty cordially greeted the well-wishers, who had no way of knowing she was already back on her pirate ship, shouting orders to man the cannons and prepare to board.
* * * * *
About Pat McDermott:
Boston native Pat McDermott writes romantic action/adventure stories set in Ireland. Glancing Through the Glimmer and its sequel, Autumn Glimmer, are young adult paranormal adventures starring Ireland’s mischievous fairies and an Irish royal family that might have been. Both books are “prequels” to her popular Band of Roses Trilogy: A Band of Roses, Fiery Roses, and Salty Roses. Her first contemporary romance, The Rosewood Whistle, features Ireland’s music and myths.

Pat’s favorite non-writing activities include cooking, reading, music, hiking, music, and traveling, especially to Ireland. She is a member of the New Hampshire Writers’ Project, Romance Writers of America, and Celtic Hearts Romance Writers. She lives and writes in New Hampshire, USA.
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 for more information.

Sunday, August 4, 2013

Fiery Roses, Book Two in the Band of Roses Trilogy - Now in Print!

Pat McDermott here, visiting The Celtic Rose today with an excerpt from Fiery Roses. I'm happy to announce that a year after making its e-debut, the book is finally out in print. I enjoyed revisiting memories of north Mayo while I revised and updated the story, my classic "Middle Child," often overlooked but a gem in its own right.

The "Roses" books are romantic action/adventures set in a modern Ireland that might have been. The "what if" premise supposes that High King Brian Boru survived the Battle of Clontarf in 1014 AD and established a royal dynasty still in existence. As head of state, the current King Brian upholds ancient traditions, as does his daughter, Crown Princess Talty, though Talty has a knack for landing in trouble.

In the first book, A Band of Roses, Talty must hide her identity to outwit assassins, but she can't hide her ingrained training as a warrior sworn to protect her homeland. From Japan to California to an eleventh century Ireland, she finds romance and adventure, yet all she wants is to return to her family and Neil Boru, the adoptive cousin she secretly loves and cannot have—or so she thinks.

In Fiery Roses, a major discovery of offshore gas ensnares the Boru clan in a web of blackmail and murder. When the residents of rural County Mayo object to plans to run pipelines over their pristine bogs, an arsonist tries to change their minds. One of his fires sends Talty and Neil to an ancient world beset by a waking volcano, and the residents believe she is the Goddess Pele, come to save them. As they struggle to outwit a tyrant with a shocking secret and find their way back to Ireland, King Brian locks horns with ruthless oilmen trying to bully their way over the bogs.

Fiery Roses wasn’t supposed to be a sequel. When I started writing the book, I researched arsonists and developed a character sketch of an arsonist. Meanwhile, I monitored the Irish news online, vicariously living in Ireland, the country with which I’d fallen in love during my first visit in 2004. I noted rumblings concerning plans to harvest the natural gas discovered off the northwest coast of County Mayo in 1996.

My arsonist began to merge with the cast from A Band of Roses. With the indomitable Princess Talty and her spirited kin still fresh in my mind, I wondered how the Boru clan would deal with the situation in north Mayo.

Cut Turf Drying on a Bog
My husband and I decided to visit the Mayo bogs. We passed through some scenic country, the Atlantic Ocean to our left, the Nephin Mountains to our right. The bogs might have been rolling meadows, but the blankets of green weren’t grass. They were scraw, the layer of tough fibrous sod that covered the peat, or turf, as it’s called in Ireland. Masses of white bog cotton and yellow buttercups painted the scraw. Cows and sheep roamed everywhere.

We soon saw men in hard hats working behind a chain link fence, large sections of blue pipe awaiting installation, and protesters sitting in parked cars. Surrounding them were hand-painted signs that said things like, "We are Irish citizens, not Shell subjects."

The next morning, we learned that Royal Dutch Shell had sought and obtained a court order for the arrest of five Mayo men who refused the company access to their land. The men spent ninety-four days in prison.

As I worked on Fiery Roses, a story filled with fictitious villains and heroes, I followed the Irish news, waiting for some resolution to the increasing hostility in north Mayo. I spent three years writing the book and tidying up all the imaginary plot twists. Sadly, the real situation in north Mayo remains unresolved.
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EXCERPT from Fiery Roses - A Little Lost:
From his window seat in one of Casa Verro’s largest guest suites, Neil opened the shutters and caught the scent of the sea. Beneath him, a patchwork of planted fields and pastures stretched for mile after emerald mile. Yet the realization that the land sat on a waking volcano spoiled the idyllic scene. That and knowing the verdant panorama wasn’t Ireland.

The air currents shifted. Tantalizing whiffs of roasting pork and baking bread made his mouth water, yet they couldn’t subdue his growing dread that he’d never see Ireland again, never fly again, or zoom off in his Jaguar. His family, his friends, and his precious Talty would all be lost to him if the Peregrine Portal left him behind when it called the others home.

The fervent "Ooh!" behind him was a sound he knew well: Talty had found something to wear to the feast for the Meddiss. Neil turned his head just as Renen raised the top of a shimmering white gown over the pink-tipped breasts that perfectly fit the palms of his hands.

For over an hour, Talty had been trying on the late Danella’s gowns. Renen had come to help. Her shocked gasp when she’d first seen the scars on Talty’s chest had nearly caused Neil to send the woman away. Talty had said nothing, and Renen, a servant unaccustomed to questioning her betters, had recovered well.

"This is lovely, Renen," Talty said.

"It is the finest silk." The fussing servant pinned the shoulder straps with matching broaches.

The dress fell in graceful folds, the cloth so fine it seemed transparent. Gold threads woven through the material shimmered with Talty’s slightest move. The gathered waist flattered her slender form—too slender in her view, it seemed.

"It fits well enough," she said with a downward glance, "but the top is too big."

"Your mamms do look a little lost in there," Neil called from the window.

The women’s heads jerked. As he’d suspected, they’d forgotten he was there.

Talty raised her chin and glared. "You never seem to have any trouble finding them!"

Renen grinned at the playful repartee. "The baroness stretched the dress more, yes, but you, Lady, are well formed and lovely. We will show them. We only have to fix the pins." She gathered the material tighter and reset the broaches.

When she finished, Talty’s eyes widened, silently asking Neil’s opinion.

"You look more grippable now, darlin’." He made squeezing gestures and laughed at her openmouthed gasp. "Really, Tal, you look fine. No goddess could be more beautiful."

"This one can," said Renen. "We will add perfume and jewels, though even the baroness had no rings as fine as yours, Lady."

Talty extended her hand and gazed at the rings Neil had placed there. She smiled lovingly at him as she answered Renen. "I feel strange wearing Danella’s things, but I suppose I have no choice."

"No," Neil muttered. "The airline lost our luggage."

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About Pat McDermott:
Boston, Massachusetts native Pat McDermott writes romantic action/adventure stories set in an Ireland that might have been. Glancing Through the Glimmer and its sequel, Autumn Glimmer, are young adult paranormal adventures featuring Ireland’s mischievous fairies. Both books are “prequels” to her popular Band of Roses Trilogy: A Band of Roses, Fiery Roses, and Salty Roses. Her first adult contemporary romance, The Rosewood Whistle, was released in June, 2013.
 
Pat is a member of the New Hampshire Writers’ Project, Romance Writers of America, and Celtic Hearts Romance Writers. Her favorite non-writing activities include cooking, hiking, reading, and traveling, especially to Ireland. She lives and writes in New Hampshire, USA.
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To Learn More About Pat and Her Books, Visit Her

Saturday, June 22, 2013

Romance and Irish Music: The Rosewood Whistle

Cover Design by Nika Dixon
Pat McDermott here, happily letting everyone know I have a new release: a contemporary "autumn" romance set in western Ireland and Dublin.

The Rosewood Whistle is something different for me. No fairies, no parallel worlds, just a tribute of sorts to Ireland's traditional music, spellbinding legends, and unique humor told through the cautious but compelling relationship of a man and woman offered a second chance at love.

I had fun with this one. Each chapter title contains a phrase from an old Irish song. No worries if you can't guess them all while you're reading. I added a list of titles at the end of the book.

Here's the Blurb:
Surrounded by Ireland’s music and myths, a widowed American writer meets a tour guide leery of love…

On her own at the end of a long and difficult marriage, Gemma Pentrandolfo still hears the critical voice of her husband taunting her from his grave. To foster her independence, she schedules a summer vacation in County Mayo intending to write her first book, and she's counting on Ireland for inspiration. An idea presents itself when she explores Achill Island with a silver-tongued tour guide whose good looks prompt her to write more than her high-minded novel: she transcribes her years of longing in a steamy fantasy no one is meant to see.

Years have passed since an accident claimed the self-absorbed wife who scorned Ben Connigan and his music. Since then, the former tin whistle ace has avoided marriage, though he never lacked for female companionship before he traded his high-tech career for the slow-paced life of a hometown tour guide. Ben has accepted the end of his run of discreet affairs, until he takes Gemma touring. Her passion for Ireland impresses him. Her love of Irish music soon compels him to dust off his whistles. Knowing she'll leave at the end of the summer, he sees no harm in keeping her company—until he dares to dream of spending the rest of his life with her.

But he knows it can't be, not while the ghosts of their partners still haunt them. Not unless the music and myths of Ireland can help them find their way…

And an Excerpt:
Scully tapped his arm. “Go buy her a drink, Ben.”

“What?”

“You’re staring at her like she’s one of them feckin’ U F of Os.”

“She’s windin’ your clock, Big Ben,” said Tom. “Be said and led by me: paddle the wave when it comes along. Buy the woman a bloody drink.”

A vigorous nod bespoke Scully’s agreement. “At least give her your business card. She’s a Yank. Probably wants to see the sights. Trace her roots and all that shite.”

Ben raised a hand. “Back off. I need no advice from a pair of henpecked husbands wearing their wedding rings through their noses.”

Undaunted, Scully and Tom tilted their drinks to their smirking mouths. The gleam in their eyes dared Ben to act. Despite their jowls and glasses, they might have been fifteen again.

He wasn’t about to reveal the incident with the hose to these two. They didn’t have to know he only meant to apologize, not initiate farcical courtship rituals.

So why did a pendulum swing in his chest, its speed increasing with every stroke?

Something to do with her drenched blouse and pants. Would she remember him? Accuse him and his garden hose of lewd behavior? He swallowed a mouthful of beer and wiped his hand across his lips. The pendulum slowed. Aware of the eyes digging into his back, he kicked himself out of his chair and swaggered to her table.

She read her menu through little gold glasses. Tiny laugh lines enhanced her eyes and her curving lips. No lipstick. Ben liked that. She held the one-page card in her long slender fingers. No nail polish.

No paint nor powder, no none at all…

And no wedding ring. Scully was right about that at least.

She frowned at the menu as if she couldn’t decide what to order. He thought he might suggest the soup, or perhaps the fish and chips, or maybe…

He’d reached the chair where she’d laid her coat. She sensed him there, for she looked up. Eyes as brown as Belgian chocolate widened in surprise. Her mouth fell open; her cheeks turned crimson. No doubt about it, she knew him. Now what?

Fortune favors the bold, and all. Exploiting her befuddlement, he pounced. “We haven’t been properly introduced. I’m Ben Connigan. Might I sit?"

Her eyes returned to their normal size; the red in her cheeks softened to a tea rose hue. She slipped off her glasses and smiled at him, and his heart flopped like a fresh-caught trout.
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To learn more and read additional excerpts,
visit The Rosewood Whistle Page on my website.
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The Rosewood Whistle / eBook Available from

Available in Print from
Amazon
 

Tuesday, May 14, 2013

Glancing Through the Glimmer: Available In Print!

Pat McDermott reporting in, delighted to announce that Glancing Through the Glimmer, my Young Adult adventure set in an Ireland that might have been and featuring Ireland's fairies, is now available in paperback. The fairies are happy, and so am I.

Find out what it's about Here.

Read an excerpt Here.

And check out the paperback on Amazon Here.

E-book lovers, never fear. Glancing Through the Glimmer is still available for your e-readers.
Links Here.

A homesick girl meets a prince in disguise, and both run afoul of the fairies...

Friday, April 19, 2013

Autumn Glimmer: Ireland's Fairies are At It Again!

The Fairies are back in Autumn Glimmer, an adventure for young adults of all ages set in an Ireland that might have been. Autumn Glimmer is the sequel to Glancing Through the Glimmer. Both "Glimmer" books are paranormal prequels to the Band of Roses Trilogy, whose "what if" premise supposes that High King Brian Boru survived the Battle of Clontarf in 1014 A.D. and established a royal dynasty still in existence. As head of state, the current King Brian upholds ancient traditions, as do his children, Princess Talty and Prince Liam. Teenage Liam stars in the Glimmer books, along with his American friend, Janet Gleason, who can’t seem to stay away from the fairies.
Janet’s grandfather is the U.S. Ambassador to Ireland. Janet still misses Boston, especially in autumn, when New England’s trees are so gorgeously vibrant. But she’s settled into her new life well and landed the lead in the next school play. When King Brian invites the Gleasons to his country estate to celebrate Halloween, Janet is happy: she’ll be with Liam again.
She should know Ireland better by now…

Blurb for Autumn Glimmer:
Janet and Liam meet again for a Halloween weekend they’ll never forget…

Fairies living beneath the lake on the King of Ireland’s country estate? Janet Gleason isn’t surprised. The American teen and her royal friend, Prince Liam Boru, have met the Good People before. Just before Halloween, three of the fairies, Blinn, Mell, and Lewy, leave their watery home to fill a magical bag with the flowers their queen requires to keep a hungry monster asleep. Blinn decides she’d like to see the mortal king’s house. Lewy wants to taste oatcakes again, and Mell goes along on a tragic ride that leaves poor Lewy lost and alone. Can Liam and Janet help him find the flower bag before the monster awakens? Or will Lewy’s misguided glimmer trap the young mortals forever in the palace beneath the lake?

Excerpt:
Below the bubble, the water brightened to a lustrous cobalt blue. Stars seemed to shimmer deep in the lake. A forest of vegetation waved on the lake bed. The impossible sight of crystal towers emerged beyond the greenery, and Liam wanted to dance.

Janet raised a hand to her face. "It’s lovely, but why does it smell so bad?"

She was right. A nasty whiff of something vile had seeped into the bubble.

Becula raised her arms. "Hasten!"

The bubble’s downward speed increased. The stench intensified. Trying to pinpoint its source, Liam scanned the ghostly lake. An amber mist glowed in the inky water beyond the light and seemed to be pursuing them.

"What is it?" he asked, dreading the answer.

"The Crogall Cú," Becula said, her nonchalant tone at odds with the stiffened sags and bags on her face. "When it hunts, its nostrils blow foul vapors to confuse its prey. Fear not, young prince. It shall not harm us."

A terrible roar tore through the bubble. Janet yipped and clung to Liam. Squashing his lips to keep from yipping himself, he hugged her to him.

The mist billowed into to a putrid fog that poured like custard to sully the water. Another roar, much closer this time, jolted the bubble.

Janet screamed. A blood-red eye as big as an autumn moon stared into the bubble.
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About Pat McDermott:
Born and educated in Boston, Massachusetts, Pat McDermott is the author of a series of romantic action/adventure stories set in an Ireland that might have been. Her favorite non-writing activities include cooking, reading, music, hiking, music, and traveling, especially to Ireland. Pat is a member of the New Hampshire Writers’ Project, Romance Writers of America, and Celtic Hearts Romance Writers. She lives and writes in New Hampshire.



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Autumn Glimmer / E-book Available from
Glancing Through the Glimmer / E-book Available from

Friday, December 7, 2012

Salty Roses: Book Three in the Band of Roses Trilogy

Hi, Pat McDermott here, announcing the arrival of Salty Roses, a rollicking pirate adventure. Arrrrr...

The Band of Roses Trilogy, a series of romantic action/adventures set in modern Ireland, supposes that High King Brian Boru survived the Battle of Clontarf in 1014 AD and established a royal dynasty the rules Ireland to this day. As head of state, the current King Brian upholds ancient traditions, as does his daughter, Crown Princess Talty, though Talty has a knack for landing in trouble.

In Book One, A Band of Roses, the indomitable warrior princess finds romance and adventure from Ireland to Japan to an eleventh century Ireland, yet all she wants is to return to her family and Neil Boru, the adoptive cousin she secretly loves and cannot have—or so she thinks.

In Fiery Roses, the residents of rural County Mayo object to plans to run gas pipelines over their pristine bogs. An arsonist tries to change their minds. One of his fires sends newlyweds Talty and Neil to an ancient, Roman-like world beset by a waking volcano.

Book Three, Salty Roses, finds Talty a wife and a mother at last. The dynamic heir to the Irish throne believes her days of exotic adventure are all done and dusted, yet her royal duties seem endless, and a day off with handsome husband Neil is looking good. Former naval officer Talty eagerly accepts an eccentric billionaire’s invitation for a jaunt aboard his luxury submarine, but as she and Neil dive beneath the waves to view an eerie shipwreck, a sinister plot unfolds. An unknown enemy lures them to a megalithic tomb in Brittany and sends them to a world infested with treacherous pirates. Talty takes charge of a pirate ship and its mangy crew, while Neil matches wits with a steamy temptress who jeopardizes his wedding vows. As he and Talty fight to save their marriage, they learn that the door to parallel worlds swings both ways.

Excerpt - Neil visits Talty in her Tara Hall office—an office she suspects is haunted.
Muffled thuds whacked the wall on the other side of the door to Talty’s office. Neil cringed at the sound. "How long has she been at it this time, Denis?"
"Not long, sir. Go right in. You’ll be safe enough if you don’t distract her. Shall I call the kitchen for tea?" From his chair behind his paper-strewn desk, Talty’s ever-smiling assistant spoke cheerfully, as if the strange activity on the other side of the door was the most natural thing in the world.

Neil supposed it was, for Talty. "Tea for three, coffee for one, please. Colonel Gale and Major Tomasi are on their way up."

Neil twisted the bronze doorknob and stole into the room. Talty stood on the far side of her office, her back to him, her right arm rocking, her fingers gripping the glinting blade of a throwing knife. The round red bull’s eye on the wall before her looked like a numberless clock with three black-handled knives set at three, six, and nine. A heart-stopping blur later, a fourth juddering knife neatly filled the twelve o’clock spot.

Neil could throw a blade well enough, had learned it as part of his Fian training. Talty had mastered the skill, and many other martial arts, during her Japanese sojourn several years before. He was proud of her, and more than a little in awe of her Shurikendo proficiency.

These knives, a set of four ten-inch carbon steel blades, had been a Christmas gift from her samurai mentor. She claimed that throwing them not only kept her eye keen and relieved stress, it had also helped her regain her sleek, thoroughbred, pre-baby shape.

"So," she said, still facing the target. "Are you enjoying the show?"

"Always, darlin’."

She turned so fast he nearly ducked. "Neil! I didn’t…I’m…How are you?"

If she hadn’t known he was there, to whom had she been speaking? He crossed the room and kissed her. "Having a tough day, love?"

"Tough? Of course not." She plucked the knives from the target, set them on the table, and prepared to throw them again. "I thought my father being back would help lighten my schedule. So I can see my son before he—" Thwack! The first knife pierced the target dead center. "—forgets who I am. And where is my father? In his office with his tailor, looking over swatches of material for new suits. ‘We’re still on vacation, Tal,’ he says. ‘I couldn’t stand that hot sun anymore,’ he says. ‘So I’m taking your mother—’" Thwack! "‘—to Scotland for a week!’" Thwack! Thwack! The knives quivered on the target in a neat vertical row.

Neil stared in admiration. He knew from stolen ISF reports that Talty’s deadly aim had saved more than one life. "Did you tell Uncle-Dad about our submarine outing next Wednesday?"

Again, she pulled the knives from the target, this time carrying them to the wall safe where she kept them. "Yes. He said it was a great idea. Said it’s about time I learned to manage my schedule."

"He’s right."

She stopped. "What? You know very well this isn’t my normal schedule!" Her tone was indignant, her face flushed.

Quickly closing the gap between them, Neil caressed her soft auburn hair. "Tal, what if, God forbid, something happened to your father and it was your normal schedule?"

She met his gaze and sighed. "Then I’d make some serious adjustments. But I’m thinking, Neily. We shouldn’t go on this submarine cruise Wednesday. We should spend the day with the baby."

"We’ve already agreed to go. It’s only for a few hours. Donal is perfectly safe with Nanny Maude."

"He’ll think Maude is his mother. He won’t remember me!"

"Hell, you’re so busy, I don’t even remember you." He’d said it to make her laugh, but she looked as if she’d either start crying or tossing those knives at him. Hustling to derail either development, he squeezed her shoulders and kissed her. "We both grew up with nannies, Tal. It did us no harm, and we both love our parents."

In true Boru fashion, her tiny pout curved into a spectacular smile. She placed the weapons in the wall safe. As she shut the hinged portrait of some medieval Boru prince over the safe, she spoke to the oil painting: "What are you looking at?"

"Tal, are you all right? How long have you been tossing knives?"

Still smiling, she turned from the portrait. "For years, Neily."

"I know that! I meant today. You’re talking to people who aren’t here, darlin’."

"Am I?" She returned to the bull’s eye and closed the small double doors that concealed it. When she’d first found the old dartboard hidden in the paneling, Neil had helped her transform the secret recess into a training target. Besides himself and Talty, only Denis knew her elegant office housed the setup.

"I’ve been practicing about fifteen minutes," she said. "Not long enough." She approached him with one side of her mouth turned up in a provocative smile he knew well. "Did you have some substitute activity in mind?"

His arms slid around her, and hers around him. Her thigh-pressing hug left him struggling to remember why he’d come to see her. "And they call us poor fellas rascals."