Last Summer in Ireland

Last Summer in Ireland
Автор книги: id книги: 1843501     Оценка: 0.0     Голосов: 0     Отзывы, комментарии: 0 458,08 руб.     (4,7$) Читать книгу Купить и скачать книгу Купить бумажную книгу Электронная книга Жанр: Сказки Правообладатель и/или издательство: HarperCollins Дата добавления в каталог КнигаЛит: ISBN: 9780008328825 Скачать фрагмент в формате   fb2   fb2.zip Возрастное ограничение: 0+ Оглавление Отрывок из книги

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Can she unlock the secrets of her past?Deirdre Weston, a London journalist, returns to her family home in Armagh to come to terms with the death of her mother. Faced with painful memories of her own past, Deirdre despairs of the task she has set herself.In her deepest need she encounters Deara, the handmaiden of the Lady Merdaine from the capital of ancient Ulster. During her stay, Deirdre unearths what happened in Deara’s fifth-century life, a time as turbulent and troubled in Ireland as the late twentieth century has been.As events unfold, both women discover the strength which flows from the love and support of the other – and the transforming power of courage.Prepare to be spirited away to rural Ireland in this stunning new saga from Anne Doughty.Previously published as Summer of the HawthornReaders LOVE Anne Doughty:‘I love all the books from this author’‘Beautifully written’‘Would recommend to everyone’‘Fabulous story, couldn't put it down!’‘Looking forward to the next one.’

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Anne Doughty. Last Summer in Ireland

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ANNE DOUGHTY is the author of A Few Late Roses, which was nominated for the longlist of the Irish Times Literature Prizes. Born in Armagh, she was educated at Armagh Girls’ High School and Queen’s University, Belfast. She has since lived in Belfast with her husband.

The Girl from Galloway

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The warriors roared their approval, and Morrough, smiling broadly, held out his hands to them.

‘I see a fat man, and a long road,’ he whispered loudly. ‘And I see hounds baying and footsteps fleeing – and – I do believe – ah, the mists, the mists dim my vision, I cannot see as I should. My powers are dimmed by a slavegirl – oh, what mischief is this . . . I am asleep again by her spells.’

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