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Mary-Ann Tirone Smith


Mary-Ann Tirone Smith

Mary-Ann Tirone
Smith swears by her MacIntosh and, with the success of LOVE HER
MADLY and AN AMERICAN KILLING now writes at a desk that overlooks
the Atlantic ocean.

"My parents were from huge immigrant families. I was always
surrounded by cousins. My Italian grandfather told me water was to
bathe in, not drink, and that I should drink wine or I’d be
white like the sink.

My French grandfather took me fishing and crabbing, all-day affairs
which would last from 5 a.m. until 5 p.m. -- the weather would
always be hot and humid, but he’d remain dressed in his suit,
shirt, vest and cap, and I would always strip down to my

From the time I was very young, my father would take me with him to
downtown Hartford, park me in the bookstore and go off and chat
with friends and strangers and the local bookie knowing I’d
be safe with books.

Except for those happy Saturdays my life revolved around my brother
who was autistic -- a savant who thought he was Montgomery and who
called me Captain Fury. We re-enacted all the battles of World War
II on a daily basis.

After graduating from college in 1965, I joined the Peace Corps and
served two years in Buea, West Cameroon, where I organized -- what
else? -- a public library, and had a lot of fun with Cameroonians;
German, Dutch and British volunteers; British ex-patriots; two
Germans who ran the hotel in Victoria and a Dane who ran the hotel
in Buea. A large chunk of my heart remains in that little African
town halfway up the side of Mount Cameroon, which rises like
Napolean’s hat from the equatorial sea. Lucky me.

Mary-Ann Tirone Smith

Books by Mary-Ann Tirone Smith