by Kate Nox
Sure an’ it’s almost time for the annual ‘Wearin’ o’ the Green” (or orange, depending on your affiliation).
My childhood was greatly influenced by my father. Being of Irish decent, Dad made sure I was rocked to sleep with a bit of, “Too-Ra-Loo-Ra-Loo-Ra”, lilting through my head. He was a great story teller, and many of the fairy tales I learned hail from the old country.
Dad loved to tell us of days gone by and the sparkle in his eyes as he related some faraway scene, created an excitement in my heart to hear more tales of the Emerald Isle. Most of my Dad’s stories started out with “Pat and Mike were walking through the woods one day…” and ended with a hail of his contagious laughter. Once I grew up and started to explore stories on my own, I encountered the much darker, fatalistic side of Irish lore. Ireland, with its rolling hills, and rock cairns standing in the heavy mist just sort of begs for stories of banshees wailing in the night, strange figures in the castle window, and wolfhounds baying out a warning of danger.
The stories are as numerous as those who tell them and every village and town has their own creature of darkness. We hope you will join us in the celebrating Irish Horror Literature Month here during March. It promises to be interesting and possibly fatal!
If you have tails of horror from the Emerald Isle…tell us below or write us at Horroraddicts@gmail.com. We’re dying to hear from you!