Hounded

Irish Pronunciation Guide
    Let it be known from the beginning that readers are free to pronounce the names in this book however they see fit. It’s supposed to be a good time, so I do not wish to steal anyone’s marshmallows by telling them they’re » saying it wrong. « However, for those readers who place a premium on accuracy, I have provided an informal guide to some names and words that may be a bit confusing for English readers, since Irish phonetics aren’t necessarily those of English. One thing to keep in mind is that diacritical marks above the vowels do not indicate a stressed syllable but rather a certain vowel sound.
    Names
    Aenghus Óg = Angus OHG (long o , as in doe , not short o , as in log )
    Airmid = AIR mit
    Bres = Bress
    Brighid = BRI yit (or close to BREE yit) in Old Irish. Modern Irish has changed this to Bríd (pronounced like Breed), changing the vowel sound and eliminating the g entirely because English speakers kept pronouncing the g with a j sound. Names like Bridget are Anglicized versions of the original Irish name
    Cairbre = CAR bre, where you kind of roll the r and the e is pronounced as in egg
    Conaire = KON uh ra
    Cúchulainn = Koo HOO lin (the Irish ch is pronounced like an h low in the throat, like a Spanish j , never with a hard k sound or as in the English chew )
    Dian Cecht = DEE an KAY
    Fianna = Fee AH na
    Finn Mac Cumhaill = FIN mac COO will
    Flidais = FLIH dish
    Fragarach = FRAG ah rah
    Granuaile = GRAWN ya WALE
    Lugh Lámhfhada = Loo LAW wah duh
    Manannan Mac Lir = MAH nah NON mac LEER
    Miach = ME ah
    Mogh Nuadhat = Moh NU ah dah
    Moralltach = MOR ul TAH
    Ó Suileabháin = Oh SULL uh ven (pronounced like O’Sullivan, it’s just the Irish spelling)
    Siodhachan = SHE ya han (remember the guttural h for the Irish ch; don’t go near a hard k sound)
    Tuatha Dé Danann = Too AH ha day DAN an
    Places
    Gabhra = GO rah
    Mag Mell = Mah MEL
    Magh Léna = Moy LAY na
    Tír na nÓg = TEER na NOHG (long o )
    Verbs
    Coinnigh = con NEE (to hold, keep)
    Dóigh = doy (to burn)
    Dún = doon (to close or seal)
    Oscail = OS kill (to open)
    Trees
    Fearn = fairn
    Idho = EE yo
    Ngetal = NYET ul
    Tinne = CHIN neh
    Ura = OO ra (make sure you’re not turning this into a military cheer. Both syllables are very clipped and you roll the r a wee bit)

Chapter 1
    There are many perks to living for twenty-one centuries, and foremost among them is bearing witness to the rare birth of genius. It invariably goes like this: Someone shrugs off the weight of his cultural traditions, ignores the baleful stares of authority, and does something his countrymen think to be completely batshit insane. Of those, Galileo was my personal favorite. Van Gogh comes in second, but he really was batshit insane.
    Thank the Goddess I don’t look like a guy who met Galileo—or who saw Shakespeare’s plays when they first debuted or rode with the hordes of Genghis Khan. When people ask how old I am, I just tell them twenty-one, and if they assume I mean years instead of decades or centuries, then that can’t be my fault, can it? I still get carded, in fact, which any senior citizen will tell you is immensely flattering.
    The young-Irish-lad façade does not stand me in good stead when I’m trying to appear scholarly at my place of business—I run an occult bookshop with an apothecary’s counter squeezed in the corner—but it has one outstanding advantage. When I go to the grocery store, for example, and people see my curly red hair, fair skin, and long goatee, they suspect that I play soccer and drink lots of Guinness. If I’m going sleeveless and they see the tattoos all up and down my right arm, they assume I’m in a rock band and smoke lots of weed. It never enters their mind for a moment that I could be an ancient Druid—and that’s the main reason why I like this look. If I grew a white beard and got myself a pointy hat, oozed dignity and sagacity and glowed with beatitude, people might start to get the wrong—or the right—idea.
    Sometimes I forget what I look like and I do something out of character, such as sing shepherd tunes in Aramaic while I’m waiting in line at Starbucks, but the nice bit about living in urban America is that people tend to either ignore eccentrics or move to the suburbs to escape them.
    That never would have happened in the old days. People who were different back then got burned at the stake or stoned to death. There is still a downside to being different today, of course,