A Woman's Heart. JoAnn Ross

      Ireland—A Land Of Unbridled Spirit, Ancient Legends, Whitewashed Cottages And Storybook Castles. A Place Where Anything Can Happen And There Are No Strangers—Until Now.

      Quinn Gallagher has reluctantly come to Castlelough. He’s cynical, bitter and disillusioned. But the magic of the west coast is about to change him.

      He’s never met anyone like Nora Fitzpatrick. Despite all of life’s hardships, the young widow still has a generous heart. Quinn can’t help himself. He falls in love.

      But life has taught Quinn never to trust in anything…especially a happy ending.

      In A Woman’s Heart, JoAnn Ross has created a rich, lyrical love story about land, community, family and the very special bond between a man who doesn’t believe in anything and a woman who believes in him.

      Praise for A Woman’s Heart by JoAnn Ross

      “JoAnn Ross masterfully paints a picture of a magical, mystical land. With delightful touches of folklore storytelling, Ms. Ross tells a tale that delivers laughter, tears and so much joy.”

      —RT Book Reviews

      “Filled with warmth and wisdom and magic, A Woman’s Heart is sure to appeal to readers who love deeply moving romance, children, relatives, horses, big dogs and Irish charm.”

      —Antoinette Stockenberg, bestselling author of Dream a Little Dream

      “A Woman’s Heart will find a place in every fan’s heart, as it is an extraordinary tale that will charm the audience. This is one time the luck of the Irish will shine on every reader.”

      —Affaire de Coeur

      “The beauty of the people is what kept me reading this excellent-in-every-way novel. If you’re not already a JoAnn Ross fan, you will be after reading A Woman’s Heart.”

      —Rendezvous

      “A Woman’s Heart is...a warm and winning story of the redemptive power of love.”

      —The Romance Reader

      “A Woman’s Heart blends elements from legends within a contemporary story line to produce a brilliant novel. JoAnn Ross presents her readers with a bouquet of four leaf clovers.”

      —Painted Rock Reviews

      A Woman’s Heart

      JoAnn Ross

      

www.mirabooks.co.uk

      To Jay, who first took me to Ireland

      Dear Reader,

      A Woman’s Heart, the first book in my Irish trilogy, originally published in 1998, is a story very close to my heart because so much of it comes from my own family. My Grandda McLaughlin, the model for Brady Joyce (including the “kidnapping” when my grandmother’s wealthier Cavanaugh family wouldn’t let them marry), was a seanachie—an Irish teller of tales. My earliest memories are listening to the music of his lyrical brogue spinning grand stories of kings and castles, battles and banishments, magic and miracles.

      Hardly a day goes by that I don’t realize how fortunate I am to be able to follow in his storytelling footsteps. In all his tales, heroes and heroines ventured forth on perilous quests against seemingly impossible odds, slaying myriad dragons along the way. Tyrants were toppled, lovers united, the wicked were punished, justice prevailed in the end and the good always lived happily ever after. As they always will in my stories.

      I hope you enjoy your visit to Grandda’s and my beloved, magical Ireland.

      Slainté,

      JoAnn

      Contents

       Prologue

       Chapter One

       Chapter Two

       Chapter Three

       Chapter Four

       Chapter Five

       Chapter Six

       Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       Chapter Nine

       Chapter Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Chapter Twelve

       Chapter Thirteen

       Chapter Fourteen

       Chapter Fifteen

       Chapter Sixteen

       Chapter Seventeen

       Chapter Eighteen

       Chapter Nineteen

       Chapter Twenty

       Chapter Twenty-One

       Chapter Twenty-Two

       Chapter Twenty-Three

       Chapter Twenty-Four

       Chapter Twenty-Five

       Chapter Twenty-Six

       Epilogue

      Prologue

      Unanswered Prayers

      It was twilight, that mystical time when the world seems suspended between day and night. The remote lake, carved by glaciers into the surrounding folded green hills, glimmered with the reflection of the ruins of the twelfth-century castle that had given the Irish town of Castlelough its name.

      As the sun sank lower and lower in the cloud-scudded sky, six-year-old Rory Fitzpatrick sat in his secret wishing place and related the events of the day to his best friend.

      “Johnny Murphy stole communion hosts. And not just ordinary bread ones, either, but the special holy hosts in the tabernacle that were already blessed. You know, the ones Father O’Malley takes to shut-ins.

      “And Johnny even passed them out on the playground. A lot of kids who haven’t had their first communion yet and didn’t know better