Meet Quinn Sullivan

Quinn Sullivan hails from County Tyrone, one of the six counties in the north of Ireland still under British rule.  Most of his family remains in the small town where he grew up and although he came to the USA to seek his fortune, it’s still home.  That’s why he named his pub County Tyrone, so he’d always have a wee little piece of home.  He owns the place and runs it with the help of his uncle, Desmond.  Uncle Des, once a boxer and an IRA fighter back in the 1950’s Border War era is as tough as they come.  His nephew, however, is his soft spot.  He loves the lad as if he were his own son. 


            Before the reader meets Quinn, however, - who isn’t at his best when first seen – Deirdre takes center stage.  Deirdre, living in the WITSEC program as Mallory Marsh, longs for her beloved Quinn.  She’s stalked him and the pub online for three long years.  It bothers her that he thinks she’s dead, something she hadn’t counted on when she agreed to join the witness protection program.  Her decision to return home to him isn’t a snap judgment but something brewing for some time.  So, without any advance notice, she abandons the life she’s made and heads back to her native Kansas City – to Quinn.

            When she arrives at County Tyrone, the pub seems much the same but when she asks for Quinn, the bartender warns her he’s in a foul mood.  Deirdre can’t imagine but when she finds him, he’s well on his way to being rather drunk and she gathers it’s a common occurrence since her presumed death.  When she reveals she’s alive, his response isn’t the Hallmark movie moment she hoped for – first he figures he’s hallucinating, then he thinks she’s come to take him to heaven with her because he’s dead. 

            Their first few hours after being reunited are rough – for both of them.  It isn’t until Des comes in search of his nephew that anyone else learns Quinn’s dead love is back.  Everyone has questions but Deirdre wants time to answer them in private so they spend a few days skirting around the issues.

            When she reveals the truth to Quinn, he’s far from thrilled and when he learns the same danger which sent her running into oblivion remains, he’s scared.  But, God help him, he loves the woman and all that they once shared remains.  So they’re together again, desperate in love, and in peril.

            More about Quinn? He’s dark,, black Irish it’s often called with brilliant blue eyes the shade of sapphires or a summer Irish sky.  He’s romantic, kind hearted, but he’s also possessed of a fiery temper.  He can be cheerful or melancholy.  He made no music for three long years but after Deirdre returns, he’s back to having good craic in the pub.

            He adores his family and would lay down his life for them – or for Deirdre – if necessary.

            Here’s the blurb and a few little snippets.  Want to know more? Pick up your copy of Quinn’s Deirdre today where ever eBooks are bought and sold.

Three years ago, television reporter Deirdre King witnessed an organized crime hit and testified against the perpetrator.  When he threatened her and the love of her life, Quinn Sullivan, she accepted the WITSEC offer for protection and allowed them to fake her death.  Now she’s cast aside her new persona and come back to Quinn.  Her resurrection is a surprise, to say the least, but once he realizes she’s alive, the lovers reunite.  Deirdre slips back into the life at Quinn’s Kansas City pub, County Tyrone, and works alongside him and his uncle Desmond.  Quinn’s sister and family arrive from Ireland to celebrate a holiday but when the threat hits close to home, they leave.  It’s up to Deirdre, Quinn, and Desmond to face the danger – and survive.


Snippet one:


Like a man awakening from a deep sleep, his reaction was slow.  For a moment, she thought he hadn’t heard her speak, but he sighed, a deep, long exhale.  He lowered his hands and turned toward her.  “For the love of Christ, can’t whatever it is wait?” he said in a thick voice.  Waves of Jameson’s fine whiskey rolled toward her on his breath.  Deirdre noticed the near empty bottle and glass on the table.

“I don’t think so,” she said. “Quinn, it’s me.”

When he turned toward her, she gasped at his haggard face.  He’d changed more than she expected.  In three years, he’d aged a decade.  A few harsh lines cut deep into his face, and his mouth drooped in a frown.  She remembered his dark blue eyes as bright, always sparkling, but he gazed at her with red-rimmed, dull dead eyes, cloudy and unfocused.  He blinked twice and shook his head.

“Jesus, I’m drunker than I thought. If I’m dreamin’ up my dead darlin’, then I’ll be seeing giant cats or dancing dogs or leprechauns with pots of gold next.”

I hurt him so much more than I ever dreamed.  “Quinn, you’re not dreaming.  It’s me. It’s Deirdre, and I’m really here.”

Quinn reared his head back with a gesture she remembered.  The new line between his eyes deepened as he peered at her. “So it’s dead I am, then? You’ve come for me?”

The hope in his voice slashed across her heart, keener than any knife blade.  Deirdre couldn’t imagine Quinn welcoming death, but he seemed to do so.  “I’m back,” she told him. “Quinn, I’m alive.”

  He stared at her with his bleary eyes as if he failed to understand.  Deirdre touched his arm, then took his hand in hers.  His cold fingers curled around hers, more reflex than response.  Something shifted in his face, and his eyes narrowed, suddenly alert.

“Mother of God, it is you.”

Snippet two:

His hot mouth strayed from her lips to deliver kisses and nibbles on both sides of her throat.  Quinn paused at the base to drop a tender, sweet kiss then moved lower.  He thrust his hands beneath her sweatshirt and undid her bra with finesse, a particular talent he hadn’t lost.  Quinn fondled her breasts with his hands, his thumb tweaking the nipples until they awakened into taut, hard pink blossoms.  “Ah, yer roses are bloomin’, love,” he whispered, his breath ticklish against her skin.  He kissed each nipple, which sent erotic shivers through her body.  The pure pleasure became almost too much to stand, and she whimpered aloud.


Snippet three:


“Welcome to County Tyrone,” he said. “We’re goin’ to make a bit of music tonight and have good craic.  We’ll start with a children’s song those of us from the North all know well, a wee ditty called I’ll Tell Me Ma.

She watched as he and Des played the opening chords to the old tune, the sound bridging the present to the past.  Deirdre had listened many times, both at the pub and in private, as they played together.  The man Quinn had called Gerry played the guitar with a slap-handed style to make the most noise as first Quinn, then his uncle sang the lyrics.  They paused to do the chorus together and Deirdre wiped her eyes with a napkin, happy. 

Quinn glowed with joy and pleasure as they played for more than two hours -  amusing songs, sad songs, and then one of her favorites, The Leaving of Liverpool.  The poignant lines had echoed in her head as she’d left Kansas City, the words, “Fare thee well my own true love” haunting her.  Then, Deirdre never dreamed she would see Quinn again and now, hearing his tenor voice lifted in song, she realized she’d come full circle back to where she belonged.

When he finished the song, the last of the evening, he beckoned her up to him and before the gathered crowd Quinn draped his arm around her shoulders.  Desmond beamed at them both as Quinn whispered endearments into her ears.  Applause echoed through the room, joined with a chorus of whistles, then the pub returned to the business of drinking.  As she helped Des put the kitchen to rights for the night, he turned to her with a grin. “Ye’re good for him.”


Buy links:



Book trailer (as featured on USA Today)

Find me here:



Twitter: leeannwriter



Facebook author page:

Author FB page:


Romance Author: Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy





Popular Posts