Our duo collided literally – if you’ll excuse the pun – at the entrance to the only bookstore in Ballymadoughtrery. Now, to state it was a bookstore would be an overstatement. It would better be described as the only grocery store in Ballymadoughtery with a few donated tomes from summer visitors.

Having exchanged apologies and pleasantries the pair entered the store together.

Fidelma was here to collect the new Stephen King novel, which Mr. McMillen, the proprietor dutifully obtained for her. Oswald was in to browse.

Having obtained and paid for their purchases, both turned to leave and collided once again, dropping bags on the floor.

“Why, I am so so sorry, little lady” said the tall, good looking stranger, in the broadest Southern American accent. “My fault entirely, Ma’am”

The beautiful, resonant voice melted Fidelma’s temper and she inclined her head, tucked her parcel under her arm and left the store.

“What an enchanting creature” observed the gentleman to Mr. McMillen, who was looking a little amused at the tableau.” But I imagine she will be more than a little annoyed with me when she reaches her home. I appear to have picked up the King rather than the Count. Dracula was my choice.”

Their lives were never quite the same again. This chance meeting was to change them forever in so many ways. Over the next few months, Nuala and Oswald met frequently in every literary, written word establishment to be found in Ballymadoughtery all two of them – the library and the bookstore. Very, very gradually they began to really notice each other, began to look forward to their chance meetings. Discussions, sometimes heated, came about between the pair, concerning the merits and demerits of their favourite scribes.

Was Dracula a love story or was it horror? Has Stephen been losing his muse over the last few years?

Their subconscious minds accepted their growing attraction – their conscious minds denied it.

Convent life paled substantially for Sister Nuala and eventually the time came, she knew, to leave the confines of monastic life.

Oswald began to question his way of life, began to realize that he only turned to homosexuality to thwart his strict, moralistic parents. He had never had a boyfriend, never looked for a boyfriend and knew now with certainty, he didn’t want one.

And so it came to be, with the passage of time, that the bells of the little parish church in Ballymadaughtery rang out in joyous celebration of the union of Fidelma and Oswald.