Newsletter
Amazon.com
About Us | Submitting a Book for Review | Write to Us          
head_main HOME
  • home
  • review
  • feature
  • author
  • about
  • excerpt
  • guide
  • search
  • future
  • award
  • bestseller
  • wom
  • authorwebsite
  • faithfulteens
  • newsletter
left_bottom


AN IRISHWOMAN’S   TALE Cover Art

Books by
Patti Lacy


THE RHYTHM OF SECRETS

WHAT THE BAYOU SAW

AN IRISHWOMAN'S TALE

Reading Group Guides

WHAT THE BAYOU SAW

AN IRISHWOMAN'S TALE


left_top

AN IRISHWOMAN’S TALE
Patti Lacy
Kregel Publications
Fiction
ISBN: 9780825429873

About the Book
Critical Praise
Read a Review
Author Talk –– June 2009
Reading Group Guide

From the Prologue

“Get ‘er out of here.” Moon-shaped faces stared at Mary across the round, oaken table, then guzzled tea. Stared. Guzzled. Cup after cup of the steaming stuff.

“Ye can’t mean it,” Mam screamed. “Not now. She’s all o’ a bloody five.”

“The little eejit. Get ‘er out.”

A fist crashed on the table. Cups and saucers and cigarettes flew. Tea splattered onto the wall, onto the front of Killian’s shirt.

“Ye swine.” Mam was in Killian’s face. “For the sake of St. Patrick, she’s my flesh and blood.”

“She’s got to go.”

Mam’s screaming curse sent a chill up Mary’s spine. “Ye lured me here, promised to take us in.”

“She’s got to go. Now.”

“All right, she’ll go.” Mam’s words slapped Mary in the face. “And you’ll be cursed, all of ye.”

Mam? No, Not you, Mam? Mary flung herself on the floor, legs and arms flailing. Mam on their side? Her heart broke in two, not by the others, but by her own mother.

Mam jerked her to a standing position, letting those horrid, horrid faces burn holes into her. Still, Mary stared at them, refusing to be the first to look away.

They glared back at her and sloshed watery tea all over themselves and the tabletop. Words floated overheard. Harris, Chicago, America. What did they all mean? She heard a slap and cowered, but the blow did not fall on her

One of the sisters half-carried, half-dragged her to bed.

“Why, Mam, why? Over and over Mary sobbed the same thing into her pillow. She knew the foul-smelling faces that loomed over the table didn’t want her, by Mam? The black reality engulfed her, and her body convulsed with waves of despair.

Excerpted from AN IRISHWOMAN’S TALE © Copyright 2017 by Patti Lacy. Reprinted with permission by Kregel Publications. All rights reserved.

Click here now to buy this book from Amazon.com.

Back To Top