I've read a lot of Nora Roberts but this trilogy is the only set of hers that has a permanent slot on my bookshelves. Though I'm not fond of supernatural elements the taste of Ireland she has managed to evoke in these books is too delicious for me to part with a one of them. In this one the eldest of three Irish siblings meets an American psychologist who is spending some time in the area indulging in what she considers a silly desire to write. He agrees to help her with a compilation of folk tales. A romance develops, of course, but the lifestyles of the two characters have nearly nothing in common and neither of them can imagine conforming to the other's ways. The course of love is, naturally, fraught with rocks but I can overlook a lot of formulaic story and supernatural nonsense for the smooth sweet taste of Ireland.
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