So, St. Patrick’s Day was yesterday, but why not continue celebrating. And who doesn’t love a holiday that gives us a great excuse to get together with family and friends, attend the local parade, wear lots of green clothes, and drink beer. Oh, and dye rivers green!! However, there is a lot about this holiday which people don’t know. Stick around and read about five St. Patrick’s Day facts you might’ve not been aware of!
- This holiday falls on March 17th each year because that is the traditional death date of Saint Patrick, the patron saint of Ireland. Did you know that Saint Patrick wasn’t even Irish? He was actually born in Wales. He was held as a prisoner by Irish raiders shortly after he turned sixteen years old, and this is when he found his faith.
- Green was not always the color associated with St. Patrick’s Day. For thousands of years, light blue was the color people used to celebrate this holiday!
- The first St. Patrick’s Day parade was held right here, in the United States. The parade tradition originated in Boston, Massachusetts, in 1737. New York followed shortly behind them, launching their first parade in 1762.
- From 1927 to 1961, St. Patrick’s Day was a dry holiday. The Irish government banned alcohol to enforce the religious aspects of the holiday. Pubs around the country were forced to close for this day. Nowadays, approximately 11 million pints of Guinness are consumed on this holiday.
- Chicago dyes their river green for the spirit of St. Patrick’s Day. The dye they use is plant-based, allowing it to return to its normal color in approximately thirty hours.
Hopefully, you learned a few fun facts, and March 17th will have more reasons to celebrate in the future! Now I wish I could say I wrote a romance book about St. Patrick’s Day, but the closest I can come is my Navy SEALs of Little Creek series, where two of the heroines work at a local pub. Below you can find an excerpt from Issued (complete with a GREEN cover).
Excerpt from Issued…
Two words that should be simple enough to say. But putting my business on display for the public isn’t my thing. Though, after Brittney’s scene two nights ago, people who don’t even know a thing about me now know I’m broken. Leave it to my ex’s sister to tell the world I’m the emotional equivalent of Humpty Dumpty after his fall from grace. All of my pieces are glued back with such haphazard carelessness that I can’t remember what it feels like to be whole. Or what it feels like to go through life without falling apart, without being forced to admit my own weakness.
I drag my hands over my face, my heart in my throat, as I do my best impression of a kicked puppy in the middle of Shaken & Stirred. Taya catches sight of me, slams down her tray, and turns on her heel to stalk off in the opposite direction. My body trembles, and I dig my nails into my scalp, wishing for the hundredth time that my stubborn wife had acknowledged me when I’d tapped on her door last night. Or the night before. This whole thing could have been handled in private. Although, shit, guess that cat had gotten out of the bag two days ago. Until then, Bear had been the only one who knew about my TBI, but now everyone knows. Everyone who was within earshot of our table.
But the way Taya leapt to her feet to defend me. She’d been all fiery eyes and blazing cheeks, a hellcat ready to attack on my behalf. Hope bubbles in my chest for a second before I viciously squash the feeling. Taya deserves someone normal, someone who can stand up to the light of her scrutiny without cutting her on all his ragged, imperfect edges. She deserves someone better than me.
But right now, we need to put on a performance for my superiors and any of the committee attending the function later tonight. My jaw aches and I’m grinding my teeth together as I flag down the hostess. “Can you get her? It’s important. Please?”
She turns, flinging her hand at me in a dismissive wave. “Sure.”
Inara heads into the back. Despite her snarky claim that she cares more about cucumbers than what I think is important, a minute later, Taya makes her way toward me. I force a smile, but the muscles in my face tighten and twitch. Taya stops in front of me, her forehead a collection of unhappy little wrinkles. With one hip cocked and her arms folded beneath the small swell of her teacup breasts, she’s the personification of feisty disapproval in a server’s apron and non-slick shoes.
“What do you want?”
“There’s a mandatory work party and I need you to come with me.” Not the best start, but I’m fully prepared to apologize and grovel for a date rather than show up in front of my commanding officer without Taya on my arm. This is my shot to prove that I’m committed to the IPP program.
I want to turn around and leave, but I’m already down to the wire. Maybe I’ll just toss her over my shoulder and make a run for it. Taking a deep breath, I try again. “I know you’re mad, but I need your help. We don’t even have to talk or stand next to one another. We’re basically carpooling to an open bar. This is important. If my C.O. doesn’t think I’m trying to make the IPP program work, I’m screwed.”
Her body slumps, but her eyes remain locked with mine. “When?”
“Are you serious?” Her voice is high pitched and more than a little accusatory. “You literally waited until the last second?”
“Not exactly.” I glance at the time on my phone. “We actually have about three hours.”