Here be Magic

HERE BE NEWS for Monday October 12, 2026

2026-10-12T03:00:00.000-04:00

Monday October 12, 2026
Welcome to HERE BE NEWS, where we bring you all the latest from the fantasy romance authors at Here Be Magic:

THE CALL OF THE SEA

A Collection of Dark Fantasy Tales

https://www.amazon.com/Call-Sea-Collection-Fantasy-Tales-ebook/dp/B0HJRLK3FR/

The Call of the Sea cannot be ignored...

Beneath the waves lies another world, one filled with creatures of myth. Mermaids and sirens who find themselves torn between the land and the sea. As they struggle to choose, they will encounter danger, betrayal and love that cannot be.

Dive into the pages and discover a world you have never seen before. Will they find love or will it all end in tragedy?

New! BREAKFAST WITH EMORY, a Short Horror Story by Linda Mooney Writing as Gail Smith

2026-10-07T15:08:14.022-04:00

New!

BREAKFAST WITH EMORY
A short horror story
by Linda Mooney writing as Gail Smith

For more years than I can count, Old Man Hunley came into the store every morning for breakfast. He always bought the same thing--a quart of milk and two pieces of toast from Mom. Then he'd go sit at his favorite table in the corner, pull a package wrapped in wax paper from out of his pocket, put the contents on the toast, and make a sandwich out of it.

That was Emory Hunley's routine for years, day in and day out, regardless of the weather, until the morning came when he didn't show.

Excerpt and Buy Links: Breakfast with Emory

HERE BE NEWS for October 5, 2026

2026-10-05T03:00:00.000-04:00

Monday October 5, 2026
Welcome to HERE BE NEWS, where we bring you all the latest from the fantasy romance authors at Here Be Magic:

NOW AVAILABLE FOR PREORDER
Releases October 10th!

THE CALL OF THE SEA

A Collection of Dark Fantasy Tales

https://www.amazon.com/Call-Sea-Collection-Fantasy-Tales-ebook/dp/B0HJRLK3FR/

The Call of the Sea cannot be ignored...

Dive into the pages and discover a world you have never seen before. Will they find love or will it all end in tragedy?

THE CONDEMNED

Book 1 – Rowen

*Note: For purposes of this blog, the content here will be kept to PG standards. However, upon publication, the full novel will include more adult content.

Chapter 9

Missing

The next morning, Rowen was awakened by the smell of something frying and…

He sat up in his small bed. “Coffee? Is that coffee?”

He’d slept in his new albeit worn and a bit ragged around the waist pants. After pulling the equally worn donated but clean shirt, he made his way to the dining room this time to join the two other guests indulging in their morning repast.

“Good morning, Mr. Taylor!” Mrs. Mayflower brightly chirped at him as he walked in. “Have a seat anywhere you like. Would you care for some coffee?”

“Yes, ma’am. Please. And good morning to you, as well!”

The woman disappeared into the kitchen and promptly returned with a battered pot that had definitely seen better days, but apparently it still made a damn good cup of coffee. As she poured him some into a cup, she motioned with her head toward the table.

“Help yourself. We don’t take requests here. You eat what’s served, but you can eat as much as you want. Got that?”

“I do. Thank you.”

He was aware that the couple seated a few feet away were dressed in what he took as a finer style, not ordinary everyday wear. Keeping to himself, he was about to get up to serve himself when the woman reached over, picked up the platter, and handed it to him.

“Here. No need for you to get up.”

He thanked her, helped himself to a serving of eggs and ham, and set the platter to the side.

“Are you just passing through?” the man inquired, attempting to make conversation.

“Actually, I’m planning on making a home here,” he replied. It took effort to take his time and not to gulp down the food. After the stew he’d had last night, it was as if his stomach had reawakened from a long sleep and was joyfully begging for every morsel he could feed it. But he also knew that if he obliged it, he’d pay for it later with either a major stomachache or the loss of what he’d eaten altogether. The food in this time period was vastly different from what he was accustomed to eating in both taste and texture. He was also aware that the sanitary conditions were also looser or, in some cases, nonexistent, meaning he could inadvertently consume something that could make him sick. He reminded himself that these people had been eating slightly tainted or undercooked food all their lives. Their bodies had built up a tolerance. He, however, hadn’t.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy what was served to him. When was the last time I had home-baked bread? Or real eggs, not powdered ones? Oh, my God. And churned butter! And jam made from real fruit! He snickered. I’ll be amazed if I don’t gain thirty pounds in the next few days.

“Found something amusing, Mr. Taylor?”

He glanced up to find Mrs. Mayflower standing by his chair, her hand holding the coffeepot hovering nearby. Her expression was unreadable. Rowen was quick to reassure her.

“I can’t remember the last time I had food this good, ma’am.” He chuckled again. “And to think, not too long ago, I was wondering when I’d ever eat again, much less have a decent roof over my head.”

The woman smiled and leaned closer to whisper in his ear. “Word around town is you’re a hard worker. Keep it up, son. Hard work can sometimes be a blessing.” She refilled his cup then went around the table to serve the other guests.

When he finished and was getting up from the table, the female guest obviously eyed his attire. “Will we be seeing you at service this morning, Mr. Taylor?”

Service?

To cover up for his confusion, he played the work card. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I need to get to work.”

Her male companion stared at him with unconcealed disapproval. “What type of business makes you work on a Sunday? Tell me now so I can be sure to avoid doing business with them!”

Rowen bowed his head for a moment to give him a chance to hide his smile. When he looked back up at the couple, he replied in his best serious tone. “Animals need to be fed, sir. I can’t allow those creatures to go hungry or thirsty just because it’s Sunday, can I?” Even though he didn’t mention the livery stable by name, he figured the man would guess what business he was implying.

Without waiting for the guy to answer, he smiled at the couple, bid them a good day, and left. At first, he intended on heading back to his room but, on second thought, decided to head for the stables instead.

He’d barely taken a half dozen steps across the dirt street when he heard someone call out his name. Whirling around, he saw Obediah Goodall trotting toward him. Before he could greet the man, whom he hadn’t seen since he and his son rescued him and brought him here to Calllistown, Goodall bellowed at him.

“Sheriff Melfry is rounding up a search team. Do you got a gun, son?”

“No, but Mr. Zwick lets me use his when there’s a need.”

The big man threw a thumb over his shoulder. “Hamp’s over at the sheriff’s office now. We need every hand we can spare. Are you with us?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Good! I’ll see you there,” Goodall promised and moved on. Confused and curious, Rowen set off for the sheriff’s office.

Three other men were inside with Melfry and Deputy Slone, one of them being Zwick, who threw him a smile when he caught sight of him. Rowen went to stand beside him.

“What’s going on?”

“Doc never made it home last night,” the man informed him.

Rowen continued to stare at the man. “That’s why the sheriff is rounding up a posse?” He couldn’t help the tone of his voice. But when Zwick’s expression hardened, he tried to explain himself. “I don’t understand. Are you saying she’s never stayed overnight someplace before?”

“Oh, she’s done that, but she always lets us know ahead of time,” the stables owner explained.

“But what if she’s not planning to stay overnight but does so anyway?”

Zwick let out a loud sigh. “One thing you need to know about Doc. She’s smart. She plans ahead. If she thinks for one second that she’ll have to stay somewhere overnight, she lets someone know. Usually Obediah or Faith.”

“Why them?”

“Cuz that’s where she lives. When Abe moved out, Obediah wanted to rent out his boy’s room, but he was cautious about letting a strange man into their home. When Miss Postill showed up and needed a place to stay, things couldn’t’ve worked out better.”

Rowen shook his head, still confused. “But something could have happened. I mean, the woman she went to go tend to might have had a problem or complications, and Miss Postill had to spend the night with her. Or it could have been something else.”

Deputy Slone walked up to join them. “You’re right. It could have been something else. But we’ve been given another tidbit of information that concerns us, Mr. Taylor.”

“What’s that?”

“Those men we encountered yesterday? The ones we had move on out of town?”

A dark cloud of worry permeated his brow as Rowen stared at the officer. “You mean Ossie Chapman and his gang?”

He got a curt nod. “Yep. They never made it into Chamberlain last night.”

The cloud began to blow a cold wind through him. “Are you thinking those guys might have something to do with Doc missing?”

The big man snorted. “We don’t dismiss any possibility until we can prove otherwise.”

“How do you know those men didn’t get to Chamberlain?”

“Mossie said so,” Zwick stated.

“Who’s Mossie?”

“He’s Holden Deerling’s son,” the deputy explained. “Deerling’s the telegraph operator over in Chamberlain. Every day, the boy goes to each outlying town to drop off and collect messages and letters to take back to his father.”

“Let me guess. The jailhouse here is the pickup and dropoff point,” Rowen surmised. He scoured his brain to remember someone arriving with a package or bag who might fit the description.

“Nope. The mercantile. I go there every morning to pick up the latest wanted posters and the like since we’re the first stop on his route. I was there when Mossie showed up. So, out of curiosity I asked him how the marshal reacted when Chapman showed up.” Slone shook his head. “He said the guy never got there. He didn’t even run into them on the road.”

Rowen mutely nodded. It made sense. “Why don’t you guys have your own telegraph station here?”

“Because there ain’t enough people who know how to use one or read those messages,” the deputy stated.

“You guys ready?” Sheriff Melfry demanded, interrupting them. “We’re wasting valuable time. Let’s get over to the livery and saddle up.”

TO BE CONTINUED

Linda's Website

THE CONDEMNED - Book 1, Rowen, a Sci-Fi/Time Travel Romance by Linda Mooney - Chapter 9, Missing

2026-09-29T04:30:00.000-04:00

THE CONDEMNED

Book 1 – Rowen

*Note: For purposes of this blog, the content here will be kept to PG standards. However, upon publication, the full novel will include more adult content.

Chapter 9

Missing

The next morning, Rowen was awakened by the smell of something frying and…

He sat up in his small bed. “Coffee? Is that coffee?”

“Good morning, Mr. Taylor!” Mrs. Mayflower brightly chirped at him as he walked in. “Have a seat anywhere you like. Would you care for some coffee?”

“Yes, ma’am. Please. And good morning to you, as well!”

“Help yourself. We don’t take requests here. You eat what’s served, but you can eat as much as you want. Got that?”

“I do. Thank you.”

“Here. No need for you to get up.”

He thanked her, helped himself to a serving of eggs and ham, and set the platter to the side.

“Are you just passing through?” the man inquired, attempting to make conversation.

“Found something amusing, Mr. Taylor?”

He glanced up to find Mrs. Mayflower standing by his chair, her hand holding the coffeepot hovering nearby. Her expression was unreadable. Rowen was quick to reassure her.

When he finished and was getting up from the table, the female guest obviously eyed his attire. “Will we be seeing you at service this morning, Mr. Taylor?”

Service?

To cover up for his confusion, he played the work card. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I need to get to work.”

Her male companion stared at him with unconcealed disapproval. “What type of business makes you work on a Sunday? Tell me now so I can be sure to avoid doing business with them!”

“Sheriff Melfry is rounding up a search team. Do you got a gun, son?”

“No, but Mr. Zwick lets me use his when there’s a need.”

The big man threw a thumb over his shoulder. “Hamp’s over at the sheriff’s office now. We need every hand we can spare. Are you with us?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Good! I’ll see you there,” Goodall promised and moved on. Confused and curious, Rowen set off for the sheriff’s office.

Three other men were inside with Melfry and Deputy Slone, one of them being Zwick, who threw him a smile when he caught sight of him. Rowen went to stand beside him.

“What’s going on?”

“Doc never made it home last night,” the man informed him.

“Oh, she’s done that, but she always lets us know ahead of time,” the stables owner explained.

“But what if she’s not planning to stay overnight but does so anyway?”

“Why them?”

Deputy Slone walked up to join them. “You’re right. It could have been something else. But we’ve been given another tidbit of information that concerns us, Mr. Taylor.”

“What’s that?”

“Those men we encountered yesterday? The ones we had move on out of town?”

A dark cloud of worry permeated his brow as Rowen stared at the officer. “You mean Ossie Chapman and his gang?”

He got a curt nod. “Yep. They never made it into Chamberlain last night.”

The cloud began to blow a cold wind through him. “Are you thinking those guys might have something to do with Doc missing?”

The big man snorted. “We don’t dismiss any possibility until we can prove otherwise.”

“How do you know those men didn’t get to Chamberlain?”

“Mossie said so,” Zwick stated.

“Who’s Mossie?”

“Let me guess. The jailhouse here is the pickup and dropoff point,” Rowen surmised. He scoured his brain to remember someone arriving with a package or bag who might fit the description.

Rowen mutely nodded. It made sense. “Why don’t you guys have your own telegraph station here?”

“Because there ain’t enough people who know how to use one or read those messages,” the deputy stated.

“You guys ready?” Sheriff Melfry demanded, interrupting them. “We’re wasting valuable time. Let’s get over to the livery and saddle up.”

TO BE CONTINUED

Linda's Website

HERE BE NEWS for Monday September 28, 2026

2026-09-28T10:35:37.822-04:00

Monday SEPTEMBER 28, 2026
Welcome to HERE BE NEWS, where we bring you all the latest from the fantasy romance authors at Here Be Magic:

NOW AVAILABLE FOR PREORDER
Releases October 10th!

THE CALL OF THE SEA

A Collection of Dark Fantasy Tales

https://www.amazon.com/Call-Sea-Collection-Fantasy-Tales-ebook/dp/B0HJRLK3FR/

The Call of the Sea cannot be ignored...

Dive into the pages and discover a world you have never seen before. Will they find love or will it all end in tragedy?

HERE BE NEWS FOR MONDAY SEPTEMBER 21, 2026

2026-09-21T03:00:00.000-04:00

Monday SEPTEMBER 21, 2026
Welcome to HERE BE NEWS, where we bring you all the latest from the fantasy romance authors at Here Be Magic:

NOW AVAILABLE FOR PREORDER
Releases October 10th!

THE CALL OF THE SEA

A Collection of Dark Fantasy Tales

https://www.amazon.com/Call-Sea-Collection-Fantasy-Tales-ebook/dp/B0HJRLK3FR/

The Call of the Sea cannot be ignored...

Dive into the pages and discover a world you have never seen before. Will they find love or will it all end in tragedy?

2026-09-15T04:49:00.000-04:00

New!

QUIET
Contemporary Sci-Fi Romance
By Linda Mooney

Ultrasonic pulses are coming from somewhere. Although they’re presumed to be from outer space, no one really knows why or how they’re being generated. But when they become stronger and more frequent, the government urges everyone to seek shelter. Before Troy can make it home, a pulse hits that totally disrupts the whole world. When he comes to, he discovers everything has gone silent. He’s become deaf. And so is everyone else he comes across.

The power grid is down. The pulses have disrupted satellites, the internet, and cell phones. All communication is dark. It’s only a matter of time before every modern convenience is lost. Panic ensues. Looting, violence, and loss of sanity take over.

Troy goes on a mission to find his girlfriend and make sure she’s okay when he meets Clara along the way. He saves her life and offers to escort her back to her own home. She agrees, and he’s happy to have a companion in the new silent and dangerous world, if only for a while.

However, questions remain. Is Earth under alien attack? Will the pulses stop or become worse? No one knows, and Troy decides they have no choice but to get accustomed to this new normal. To a new world devoid of electricity, communication…and sound.

Despite what’s happened, sometimes tragedy also brings a new hope and promise for a future that otherwise would never have existed.

Warning! Contains lots of writing, a ring of keys, a hockey stick, rampant theft, danger after dark, discarded vehicles, lemonade, and two people finding love amid a world-wide disaster.

Excerpt and Buy Links: https://lindamooney.com/Quiet.htm

New! EARTH WARRIORS, Deities, Book 4, a Contemporary Fantasy/Apocalyptic Romance by Linda Mooney

2026-08-27T04:13:00.000-04:00

New!

Earth Warriors
Deities, Book 4
Contemporary Fantasy/Apocalyptic Romance
By Linda Mooney
Word Count: 39.9K

The Series is Complete!

Second Lieutenant Shannon Folgerty, one of the last remaining pilots from her Air Force base, is out looking for survivors in a world that has been destroyed by natural disasters for the last six months. She’s also hoping to find an airstrip where she can fuel up. Having a giant appear from out of nowhere and take down her partner was not what she expected. Neither was landing on an island and finding a resort hotel with actual people living there.

Uryx, demi-god of the earth, and his brothers are being forced to wreak havoc on earth, but they’re doing just enough to keep the upper gods from sending them back to the depths of hell. When two planes he’s not expecting suddenly show up, one of them plows into him because they’re unable to see him—except the second one veers away. Not only that, but it fires on him. And when the pilot ejects, he’s stunned to find it’s a woman. A mortal woman who can see him. Even though she manages to get away, he realizes she could be his One. His brothers have been blessed to find their only loves. Could it be his turn? In order to find out, he first has to get her to stop running away from him.

Once Shannon learns what Uryx and the others are being forced to do and why, and she meets the other demi-gods’ wives, they all know what needs to be done. But how do mortal women take down Greek gods? They’ve been lucky so far in the past with capturing one or two, but what about all those still remaining? Including the king of the gods, Zeus?

Uryx’s woman is a warrior, that’s how. She devises a plan to take on all of Mount Olympus to bring this reign of terror to an end once and for all, but there is more at risk this time than there’s ever been. Because if her plan fails, the demi-gods and every mortal will be forever doomed.

Warning! Contains an earth-shattering event, folding trees, 3 parachutes, a rain of fish, feeling wonderfully grounded, forgetting to turn off the volcano, and one mortal woman realizing that the fate of the world rests on her shoulders.

Excerpt and Buy Links: https://lindamooney.com/Deities.htm

THE CONDEMNED - Book 1, Rowen, a Sci-Fi/Time Travel Romance by Linda Mooney - Chapter 8, Acceptance

2026-08-25T05:29:00.000-04:00

THE CONDEMNED

Book 1 – Rowen

*Note: For purposes of this blog, the content here will be kept to PG standards. However, upon publication, the full novel will include more adult content.

Chapter 8
Acceptance

Zwick stared at him. “Are you sure? Are you dead sure that was Ossie Chapman?”

Rowen frowned. “I had to look at the drawing of that man’s face every day I was incarcerated inside that jail cell. It’s him. Question is, does the sheriff know it? Here.” He handed the borrowed rifle back to the man. “I gotta go see if Melfry’s aware of it.”

“Come back to the stables when you’re done telling him, and let me know what he said,” Zwick ordered.

Giving a nod at the man, Rowen hurried to find the sheriff.

Melfry was at the jailhouse. He was standing behind his desk and studying some papers he’d spread out when Rowen came through the door. The sheriff glanced up. “You need something, Mr. Taylor?”

“That big guy on the horse, he’s Ossie Chapman, isn’t he?”

Melfry turned back to his papers. “Looks that way. I came back here to double-check. So you think it’s him, too?”

“Count on it,” Rowen agreed. “Question is, he’s heading for…where’d you send him?”

“Chamberlain.”

“Shouldn’t somebody warn them?”

The sheriff smiled. “I trust Marshall Loving will be able to handle things on that end. For now, we just have to keep our eyes peeled in case Chapman and his gang return.” He raised an eyebrow at Rowen. “How’d you know who he was?”

Glancing over at the wall, Rowen noticed the wanted poster was missing. He pointed to the bare spot. “You used to have his mug shot hanging there for me to look at every day I was held here.”

That elicited a chuckle from the lawman. “Well, I hope we’re both right. In the meantime, I need to talk with a few people about providing backup in case he does show up again. If he does, and I call him out by name, I’m certain he won’t take kindly to being recognized.”

“Is that why you didn’t call him by name? Because you weren’t positive it was him?” Rowen questioned.

“That, and the fact that I’d need a bit more firepower behind me if I let him know I was on to him.” The man scratched the back of his head. “Oh, I noticed you holding a rifle back there. Are you a pretty good marksman?”

“It was a prop,” Rowen admitted. “Hamp made me take it while we backed you up.”

Pursing his lips, the sheriff nodded. “Well, I appreciate the help. So I take it you don’t know a sight from a hammer, eh?”

Rowen chuckled. “I can point and pull the trigger. That’s pretty much my entire knowledge about firearms.”

Melfry answered with his own chuckle. “In a lot of cases, that’s all that’s required of most people.” Reaching down, he gathered up the papers on his desk, including what Rowen discovered was the missing wanted poster. Rolling them up into a tube, the man tied it with a piece of twine. “Listen, I need to go handle some business. Thanks again for your help. I might need it again.”

Rowen stepped out of the doorway to let the man exit. Knowing he had no further business here, he returned to the stables.

It was drawing near sunset when Rowen finished cleaning out the stalls and laying out fresh hay for the horses boarded there. Zwick exited his office as Rowen was re-racking the shovel and rake.

“Here.” The owner held out his hand, palm up.

Rowen stared at the two coins lying there, then gave the man a puzzled look. “What’s that for?”

Zwick chuckled. “It’s Saturday, son. Payday. Yeah, I know you haven’t been here a full week, but it’s only right I pay you for the time you’ve worked. Here.”

Rowen took the coins without hesitation. “What about tomorrow? Don’t I come in tomorrow?”

“It’s Sunday. Day of rest.”

Rowen raised a hand to indicate the animals in their stalls. Before he could speak, the owner nodded.

“Don’t worry. The horses will still get fed and watered. I come in before church service and let them out into the pasture, throw out a bit of hay, and then bring them back in later that afternoon. You…” The man pointed a finger at him. “Go get yourself some clean clothes to wear. Wash up, and don’t drink up the rest of your earnings at the saloon. I’ll see you Monday morning.”

Not waiting for Rowen to say anything more, the man sauntered back toward the office, when he stopped and turned around. “Oh. Thanks for watching my back. Now all we gotta do is teach you how to load and shoot. Think you’re up to it?”

Rowen gave him a wry grin. “I don’t have much choice if I plan to stay around, do I?”

That comment got a surprised look from the older man, including a grunt before he went back inside and closed the door behind him.

He went to the mercantile, hoping it would still be open, but like most of the town, everything shut down come dusk. All except for the saloon, which stayed open until heaven knew when. Realizing he had no other choice but to head for the inn, he went around the back way to take the rear entrance so his smelly appearance wouldn’t put off the other boarders, or piss off Mrs. Mayflower to the point where she’d put him out on the street.

The tub she’d promised was there and half filled with water. He tested it. It was cold. “But it’s clean,” he told himself. A large bar of soap and a rag sat on a nearby stool.

Rowen stripped and immersed himself in the tub. After days of not bathing, the cold water was a welcome luxury despite its temperature. He allowed himself to lie there, closing his eyes and listening to the sounds around him.

Almost immediately, visions of his confrontation with Assemblyman General Campanelli and the gaggle of armed officers came back to haunt him. He saw his friends and cohorts shackled and on their knees, awaiting their turn on the conduit. Their terrified expressions masked his own.

That was replaced with the faces of his mother and sister, and his heart twisted with the realization that they’d never know what happened to him. They’d never be told why he wouldn’t be coming back home. Rowen felt the tears rolling down the sides of his face and into his ears, and he angrily swiped at them.

“It won’t do you any good to think of them now,” he berated himself. “What’s done is done. I can never go back.” He took a deep, shaky breath. “My God, they haven’t even been born yet!”

His stomach cramped, reminding him he hadn’t eaten in a while. “I probably missed dinner. Oh, well. It won’t be the first time, and probably not the last.”

As much as he would have liked to spend more time in the water, he knew he had other things to do before he could crash for the night. Using the bar of soap, which he could tell was homemade and as big as his hand, he scrubbed himself down, including his hair and beard. That done, he tackled his clothes, working the suds into the stained fabric as best he could before rinsing them out.

Climbing out, he discovered a towel draped over a rod near the door leading into the inn. He used it to dry off, wrapped it around his waist, and gathered up his wet things before going to his room.

He was surprised to discover a pair of pants and a shirt lying folded on the bed. There was also a note sitting on top of them.

These aren’t much. Just some old clothes my husband used to wear. I figured they might fit you.

The note wasn’t signed, but he suspected he knew who his generous benefactor was.

Rowen slipped on the pants. They were a bit big on him, but the length of rope hanging in the belt loops helped to secure them above his hips. He was about to try on the shirt when a knock came on the door.

“Mr. Taylor? You in there?”

He opened it to find Mrs. Mayflower standing in the hallway. “Good evening.”

“Good evening to you, too. I thought I saw you sneaking around to the back. Oh. I see you found the clothes I left for you.” It was clear her seeing him standing there half naked embarrassed her, but he tried to remain as casual as possible so she wouldn’t bolt.

“Yes, I did. And I found the tub of water. Thank you so much. I tried to go by the mercantile to see if I could buy something to wear tomorrow, but they were already closed.” He flashed her a smile. “I was a bit late finishing up at the stables.”

“Hamp kept you late?” the older woman pressed.

“It couldn’t be helped,” Rowen tried to explain, but the woman huffed angrily.

“So that’s why you missed dinner.”

Once more, Rowen attempted to apologize, but Mrs. Mayflower wouldn’t have it.

“Listen. I’ll go have Clara fix you a plate and set it out for you. You wouldn’t mind eating in the kitchen with the help, would you?”

“No, ma’am. Not at all.”

“All righty then.” She bobbed her head and waved a hand at him. “Put your shirt on and come eat. I don’t want word getting out that I don’t feed my guests.”

Rowen watched the woman hurry away down the hall, then pulled on the shirt that was also too big for him, but fit no longer mattered. Promising himself that he’d spread out his wet clothes to dry when he returned, he left his room to seek out the kitchen.

TO BE CONTINUED

Linda's Website

HERE BE NEWS for Monday August 10, 2026

2026-08-10T03:00:00.000-04:00

Monday August 10, 2026
Welcome to HERE BE NEWS, where we bring you all the latest from the fantasy romance authors at Here Be Magic:
So, today is another Stuff Your E-Reader Day! For one day only (maybe two--it depends on the venders) you can download over 1200 romance ebooks for FREE!
https://www.romancebookworms.com

HERE BE NEWS for Monday August 3, 2026

2026-08-03T03:00:00.000-04:00

Monday August 03, 2026
Welcome to HERE BE NEWS, where we bring you all the latest from the fantasy romance authors at Here Be Magic:

https://dl.bookfunnel.com/xofy3ssvv7

Touch Of A Vanished Hand
Oberon Book 5.0
PG Forte

Sinead Quinn has always been something of a drifter. But now, with her ex-husband trying to blackmail her, and her ex-boyfriend's widow trying to put her in jail, she has no choice but to go to ground. What better place to hide than with your family? After all, what are sisters for? Especially when you're a twin.

But the first rule of hiding out, is to keep a low profile. And that does not mean kissing your sister's boyfriend (even if he can't tell the two of you apart); rescuing a troubled teen; or taking a highly visible job as hostess of Oberon's most celebrated new inn.

Adam Sasso has always dreamed big. But big dreams beget big complications. First, his goal to turn the vineyard he inherited from his grandfather into a world-class winery is threatened by a mysterious saboteur. Next, his plan to run the finest bed & breakfast Oberon has ever seen, is broadsided by a hostess who wants to run him. Finally, it seems his fondest wish, of finding love-everlasting with the soul mate of his dreams, is about to go up in smoke when he can't convince her that they're destined to be together.

This summer, it's going to take all the wizardry in Oberon to craft a happy ending for the drifter and the dreamer.

THE CONDEMNED - Book 1, Rowen, a Sci-Fi/Time Travel Romance by Linda Mooney - Chapter 7, Wanted

2026-07-28T04:30:00.000-04:00

THE CONDEMNED

Book 1 – Rowen

*Note: For purposes of this blog, the content here will be kept to PG standards. However, upon publication, the full novel will include more adult content.

Chapter 7
Wanted

“After you buckle it and put the end through this right here, you cinch it up nice and firm, but not too tight. Now go ahead. You do it.”

Zwick stepped back to observe Rowen’s attempt at hitching a horse up to a buggy. When he finished, Rowen looked up at the man. “What did I miss?”

The stable owner puckered his lips. “As far as I can tell, nothing.” Bending over, Zwick stuck two fingers underneath the straps. “A smidge tight. Might need to move back a notch, but otherwise you did good. All right, let’s get the bridle on him, and you’re done.”

They were in the middle of slipping the bit into the gelding’s mouth when a familiar voice interrupted them.

“Oh, good! He’s almost ready!”

Rowen jerked his head up to meet Postill’s surprised expression. “Hi, Doc! We’re almost finished.”

“You’re working here now, Mr. Taylor? Or helping out?”

“I am legitimately employed,” he told her with a grin. “For the time being, anyway, until Mr. Zwick figures out whether or not he wants to keep me or send me on my way.” He eyed her as she strolled up to pat the horse on the neck. This time she wore a short brown coat over a blue dress, along with her usual bonnet perched on top of her head, and a pair of dark brown gloves. It was clear by the way the horse was giving her its full attention that the animal was enamored of her.

“Hello, Blaze. How’s my boy doing?” She handed the creature a carrot, which it eagerly took and consumed.

Zwick gave Rowen a nudge with his elbow. “Finish ‘er up. You’re not done yet. You need to bring the reins over to the buckboard, and then you can call it. But first…” The man pointed off to the side. “Fetch that stepstool and help the doc up into the wagon.”

Rowen nodded and retrieved the short steps, setting them on the ground next to the wheel. Postill handed him her medical box before taking his other hand to steady herself as she lifted her skirt. She easily mounted the wagon and settled on the seat, then reached for her kit. Rowen handed it to her, along with the reins.

“Thank you, Mr. Taylor. By the way, Mr. Zwick, if anyone comes looking for me, tell them I’m heading out to the Weatherly place.”

“Is Irene still doing poorly?” Zwick inquired.

“I hope not. I’ll find out when I get there.” She turned to Rowen. “Thank you for getting my wagon ready. I expect you to still be employed when I return,” she quipped with a smile. Not waiting for an answer, she lightly slapped the reins over the horse’s back and clicked her tongue twice. The gelding obediently moved forward, and they exited the stables.

Rowen walked up to the open doors and continued to watch her until she took a left at the end of the road and vanished from sight. When he finally turned around, he discovered Zwick holding a shovel out to him.

“Now show me how well you can clean the stalls,” the man ordered with a partial grin lifting one side of his mouth.

Sighing, Rowen took the shovel. “Is there a bucket or something I can dump the shit in?”

Zwick pointed behind him. “Outside, against the back wall, is a wheelbarrow.”

“Where do I dump it when it gets full?”

“At the far end of the paddock, by that open field. People come by regularly to get what they need for their gardens and such, so I don’t have to worry about it piling up too high.”

“Hamp! Hamp!” A man Rowen didn’t recognize ran into the stables. He was almost out of breath, and his face was pale with apprehension. “Sheriff needs you armed and out front right now!”

Zwick didn’t question the man, who ran out. Instead, he turned to Rowen. “Can you handle a gun?”

“I can learn!”

The man gave a quick nod and hurried into his office, emerging seconds later with two rifles. He handed one to Rowen. “Act like you know what you’re doing, and no one’ll suspect. Go by my lead. Now let’s go see what the emergency is.”

They rushed out of the stables to find Sheriff Melfry and two other men Rowen didn’t know. They had their firearms trained on four men on horseback who’d stopped in the middle of the street.

“You’d make things a whole lot easier for all of us if you fellas just turned around and went back to where you came from,” Melfry informed the strangers.

The man in the lead leaned over and crossed his arms over the saddle horn. “Sheriff, let me make one thing clear. We’re not here to cause trouble. We just want a drink and bite to eat, and then we’ll be on our way.”

“You can keep going the way you’re headed,” Melfry intoned, his voice as stoic and all-business as his demeanor. “Chamberlain is about ten miles up the road. They’re a bigger town than us. They’ll have everything you need.”

“But we don’t wanna wait that long,” the man next to the leader remarked.

“We’re thirsty now,” the leader continued. “We’ve been traveling a long distance, and we’re parched.”

“And we don’t have anything here to offer you ‘cept a drink from a cold spring,” Melfry countered. He motioned with his head. “I strongly suggest you circumvent our town and head that way if you’re determined to have anything stronger than that.”

Rowen stared at the man’s face. There was arrogance there. And cruelty. The guy was up to no good, and Rowen would bet anything that those four had something planned. Worse, the man’s countenance was ringing a bell in the back of his mind.

Straightening, the leader eyed the five men with guns pointed at him, barring his way. A sick grin stretched the corners of his mouth. “Very well. If you’re going to be inhospitable about it, I guess we don’t have any other choice. But, trust me, Sheriff, I ain’t gonna forget this little incident.”

Melfry didn’t respond. After another moment or two, the leader turned his horse around, and the foursome left the way they’d come. Rowen and the others remained where they stood until the strangers took the corner at the farthest end to skirt the town.

“Barkley, Myerson, cut past the general store and watch to make sure they don’t try to backtrack,” the sheriff ordered. He glanced over at Rowen and Zwick. “You men, watch the pasture. Let me know if that bunch gets back on the road leading out of town.”

Zwick nodded once. “Sure thing, Sheriff. Come on, Rowen.”

They hustled back to the livery, but instead of going inside they hurried past it and went around the building to where the pasture was located. Taking a stance where the strangers would be able to see them clearly, they waited for the riders to appear.

“Hey, Mr. Zwick.”

“If you’re going to stick around, might as well call me Hamp like the rest of the folks do,” the man drolly stated.

“Okay. Hamp, if something happens here that’s too big for the sheriff to handle…” Rowen began.

“Someone hightails it up to Chamberlain to fetch Marshal Loving.” Hamp looked over at him. “Why do you ask?”

“The one who’s the leader. I think I’ve seen that guy before. I don’t know where or when, but I’m almost dead certain I’ve seen his face…somewhere. Do you know who that man is?”

Hamp shook his head. “Nope, and I don’t reckon I want to. Besides, I don’t trust a bunch of strangers riding into town. One or two, we can handle.” He eyed Rowen to make a point. “But four big, burly men armed to the teeth…” He suddenly pointed in front of them. “There they are. Hold your rifle up, son. Let ‘em know we mean business.”

Rowen held the weapon the way Zwick held his as the strangers casually continued past. When the group finally returned to the main road leading away from town, they moved on, never once checking behind them to see if they were still being watched.

Rowen felt the knot in his stomach begin to loosen. “Those men, if they meant to do us harm or cause trouble, they probably could have killed us back there where we stopped them.”

“Yep. They could have. But they didn’t know how many of us there were. There could’ve been more armed men hiding inside the shops.”

The man’s tone made him pause. “Were there?” Rowen queried.

Hamp’s answer included a smile. “What do you think? All right. I can’t see ‘em anymore. Guess it’s safe now to stand down.” Reaching over, he plucked the rifle from Rowen’s hands. “You get back to work while I go tell Sheriff Melfry they’re gone.”

Rowen took one last look down the road when it suddenly hit him. The realization stunned him enough to where Zwick noticed his shocked expression.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“I remember now where I’ve seen that man. I mean, not the man himself, but his picture,” Rowen declared. “That guy is Ossie Chapman. A drawing of his face is on a wanted dead or alive poster hanging inside the sheriff’s office!”

TO BE CONTINUED

Linda's Website

New! Q138, a Sci-Fi Romance by Linda Mooney

2026-07-23T10:51:54.392-04:00

New!

Q138
Sci-Fi Romance
By Linda Mooney
Word Count: 41.1K
$3.99 e / $10.99 p

Cobalt Balski has been serving his sentence alone on the prison moon for over two years. Starved for human contact, aside from his supply drop every 38 days, he spends his days checking for activity from the one source of communication he has—a radio. Bored, he starts scanning through the channels and calling out, desperate for signs of life, when he gets a response.

Anyone caught speaking out against the Coalition was made an example of and punished, and since Valerie Shimmins is one of the leaders of the CAC, the anti-coalition group, it’s no surprise she also ended up sentenced to one of the prison moons. She's shocked to hear another prisoner calling out on the radio. During their frequent communications, the two begin noticing too many similarities in their circumstances, and questions arise. Could they be closer than they thought?

When the supply drops start getting further apart, the news they receive about Earth is also concerning. The Coalition is in hiding, and Cobalt and Val figure it’s only a matter of time before the shipments stop altogether.

The CAC needs leaders for a revolution, to prove the Coalition are liars and manipulators, and to take down the oppressors once and for all. Cobalt and Val are willing to put their lives on the line for that cause.

But first they have to find their way off the moon before they’re forgotten and left for dead.

Warning! Contains peach cobbler, a geographical screw-up, skin-shredding storms, a giant lemon cough drop, a chair leg, viable theories, a life prison sentence, baby nightlights, and two people determined to reclaim their lives and their hope for a future with each other.

Excerpt and Buy Links: https://lindamooney.com/Q138.htm

HERE BE NEWS: New Release from PG Forte: Nice Day for a Wine Wedding

2026-06-29T03:00:00.000-04:00

Nice Day for a Wine Wedding: A Pour Decisions Romance

PG Forte

books2read.com/WineWedding

There are a lot of reasons people choose to elope. We’ve already figured out most of them.

Clay

How hard could it be to plan a simple wedding? If recent experience has taught me anything, the answer is very. Once Legs’ Uncle Geno got involved things started spiraling out of control. We really should’ve eloped.

Allegra

I’m not saying Clay’s wrong about Geno, but it was his family who turned our rehearsal dinner into a circus. But we’re not eloping. We’re going to work out the problems and have the wedding of our dreams. Assuming we both show up for it.

Nice Day for a Wine Wedding released this week and I'm in a wedding-y mood. So, I've decided to offer Going to the Chapel for FREE! But only until Thursday! Enjoy!

Going To The Chapel

Oberon/LA Love Lessons Crossover Book 1.0

In Waiting For The Big One, Gabby and Derek went from being friends to being lovers. Now, they're waiting for their "big day". But will it be the wedding of their dreams? Or a bride's worst nightmare?

A quick trip to Gabby's hometown turns into the wedding from hell when Gabby and Derek are plagued by hailstorms, lost reservations, voracious goats, angry bees and enough family drama to fill a barn.

Guess it's true what they say, "The course of true love never did run smooth." But can the happy couple hold it all together, or will their Big Day turn into a Big Mess?

***A different version of this book was previously released as part of the Sapphire Falls Kindle World program.***

https://books2read.com/GoingChapel

THE CONDEMNED - Book 1, Rowen, a Sci-Fi/Time Travel Romance by Linda Mooney - Chapter 6, Settling In

2026-06-23T05:30:00.000-04:00

THE CONDEMNED

Book 1 – Rowen

*Note: For purposes of this blog, the content here will be kept to PG standards. However, upon publication, the full novel will include more adult content.

Chapter 6
Settling In

The stables were situated on the very edge of town and directly across the dirt street from the Mayflower Inn. Sheriff Melfry led Rowen inside the wood structure and over to a small enclosed area that had been sectioned off. Rowen noticed that the box-like structure had window-like openings that faced the entrance and inner portion of the building. He surmised that way Mr. Zwick could see whenever someone entered the place, and continue to watch them and the horses.

Hampton Zwick was a tall, gangly man with a long beard. Both beard and Mr. Zwick’s mustache were streaked with gray, although the man’s head didn’t have a hair on it. Seeing Rowen and the sheriff walk into his establishment, the guy got up from his chair and came over to greet them.

“Hamp.” Melfry touched a hand to the brim of his hat in greeting.

“Sam.” The owner’s eyes locked on Rowen as he waited for the reason for their visit.

The sheriff pointed to Rowen. “This here’s Mr. Rowen Taylor. He’s hoping you’ll hire him to work in your stables.”

Zwick’s gaze never left him. “This the guy who’s been your guest for the past couple of weeks?”

“Only until Miss Postill could clear him of having any dangerous diseases,” Melfry explained. “I also checked with Marshall Loving, and he says there are no active warrants or reward offers out for Mr. Taylor.”

“None, eh? Why are you here in the first place?” Zwick asked Rowen directly.

He met the man’s eyes. “The Assembly said I was guilty of theft, so I was banished from my town.”

“What kind of theft?”

“I stole food.”

The admission got a reaction from the man, although Rowen couldn’t tell what kind.

“What’s the name of that town?”

“Corinth City.”

“Never heard of it, and I know most every city within a hundred miles of here.” Zwick crossed his arms over his chest as if to challenge him.

Rowen called his bluff. “I walked for days. I have no recollection of how I got here. All I know is I have nowhere else to go. I have no family. The few friends I had are probably incarcerated or have been condemned the same way I was, since we were all working together. I figure this place is as good as any to set down roots. I’m a hard worker, although I will admit I’m not accustomed to physical labor. But if you’ll give me a chance, I promise I won’t let you down.”

“Are you familiar with working around horses?” Zwick inquired.

Rowen shook his head. “Absolutely nothing, but I’m a quick learner.”

The owner studied him for another moment or two. Sheriff Melfry spoke up.

“Give him a chance, Hampton. If you’re not satisfied by the end of the week, pay him what you think he’s owed and send him on his way. What have you got to lose? You’re always complaining about needing more help. Well, here he is.”

“You’re willing to back him?” Zwick asked the sheriff.

Melfry didn’t hesitate. “Yep.”

The big man sighed heavily. “Awright. You’re officially on two-weeks' probation. If at any time I have a beef with you, you’re out of here. Got that?”

“Yes, sir,” Rowen quickly replied.

“At this time, I’ll pay you five dollars a week. If at the end of two weeks I decide to keep you on, I’ll raise it to six.” He stuck out a hand. “Do we got a deal?”

Rowen took the man’s hand. It was calloused, the grip strong. “We have a deal. Thank you, Mr. Zwick. When do you want me to start?”

“How about right now?”

Melfry stepped in. “How about I first take Mr. Taylor over to the inn and see if Maisie has a room she can let to him?”

“I promise to return as soon as possible,” Rowen added.

Zwick stroked his beard. “Awright. Be back as soon as you can. Doc is needing me to get her wagon ready. I can show you how to hitch up a horse.”

Nodding, Rowen threw in a smile and held out his hand again. “Thank you, Mr. Zwick. I’ll be right back.”

He waited until they were heading across the street toward the inn before he brought up the subject. “Mr. Zwick mentioned a doctor. I thought this place didn’t have a medical doctor.”

“He meant Miss Postill. People around here call her Doc. She may not have all the right and proper credentials, but from what we can tell, she’s damn good at what she does, and she’s earned everyone’s trust. We might as well give her that title.” He threw a grin at Rowen. “Let’s just keep that little secret between us, if you don’t mind. No sense letting the whole countryside know.”

Rowen nodded in agreement.

The Mayflower Inn was a small two-story, white-washed structure. It had a simplistic, welcoming appeal. They went up the short steps to the porch, and Melfry knocked on the door. Rowen eyed the WELCOME sign posted on the side. A portly, diminutive woman answered. Her face instantly brightened when she saw the sheriff.

“Why, hello, Sam! What brings you here?”

“May we come in?” Melfry replied.

Her smile dropped at the sheriff’s all-business-like tone. “Yes. Yes, of course. Come in.”

Rowen caught her curiously eyeing him. They only took a few steps inside and stopped as she closed the door behind them. He barely had the chance to take in the interior when she approached them.

Melfry gestured to Rowen. “Maisie, this is Mr. Rowen Taylor. Rowen, this is Mrs. Maisie Mayflower. She runs this inn. Maisie, Rowen’s new in town. Hamp just hired him to work in the livery, but he’s going to need a place to rest his head. Would you be able to accommodate him?”

Rowen noticed the woman wrinkling her nose and knew why. “Pardon my smell, ma’am. I’m needing a bath in the worst way.”

“You’ll get no argument from me there,” the innkeeper agreed. She turned back to the sheriff. “He’ll be working at the livery, you say?”

Rowen answered. “Yes, ma’am. Eventually, I’d like to make this town my permanent residence, but until I can afford to do that, I’m going to need a place to stay.”

The woman gave him a bemused smile. “Your permanent residence? You sure have a way with words, Mr. Taylor.”

“Please call me Rowen.”

“All right. Rowen. Considering the fact that you’ll be smelling to high heaven every evening, I can’t have you off-putting any of my other lodgers. I do have one bedroom on the first floor in the back, near the rear exit. It ain’t fancy, but the sheets are clean, and there’s a nice breeze coming through the window at night. I charge two dollars a week.”

“Now, Maisie,” Melfry interrupted her. “You know I don’t dabble in your business, but Mr. Taylor here barely got his feet under him. We both know you mostly use that back bedroom for storage. Why don’t you cut him a break? Hampton’s hired him on for two weeks, just to try him out. If he’s satisfied with Mr. Taylor’s work, he’s willing to keep him on and also give him a little raise. The least you can do is give him a chance to save some of that money so he can buy himself some new clothes.”

The woman finally noticed Rowen wasn’t carrying any luggage, and she peered more closely at him. “Is what you’re wearing all you got to your name?”

Rowen nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

She sighed and turned to Melfry. “A buck fifty a week, and that’s as low as I can go.”

“And that includes all his meals, right?” the sheriff noted.

Mrs. Mayflower threw Rowen a cautious look. “Would you have a problem taking some of your meals outside so as not to offend my other patrons?”

Rowen bit his lower lip to keep from smiling. “I’ll do whatever you feel is necessary, ma’am.”

That admission pleased her. “All right, Sam. We got a deal.”

“Great. Now, I have to take Mr. Taylor back to the stables to get started working, but he’ll be returning for dinner. That should give you plenty of time to clear and air out his room.”

“Fine with me. Thanks, Sam. Oh, Mr. Taylor. ‘Scuse me, Rowen. Breakfast is at seven, dinner’s at one, and supper’s at seven. We change out your bedding every Saturday, but you empty your own slop jar. Got that?”

Smiling, Rowen agreed. “I appreciate this, Mrs. Mayflower. Thank you.”

The woman tried to hide the blush rising into her cheeks. “Just don’t be a pain, and we’ll get along fine. Good luck with your new job, and welcome to Callistown.”

As they left the inn to return to the livery, Rowen thanked the sheriff for his help. “I’d probably be dead right now if you and Mr. Goodall hadn’t come to my rescue.”

“Thank the Doc, too, while you’re at it. She’s the one who argued for us to show a little mercy.”

Rowen made a mental note. “By the way, can I ask you one last question before you have to return to the jail?”

“Shoot.”

“What’s a slop jar?”

TO BE CONTINUED

Linda's Website

New! WOLFED, Smexy Fairy Tales, Book 1, a Sensuous Fantasy/Paranormal Romance by Linda Mooney writing as Carolyn Gregg

2026-06-10T06:59:00.000-04:00

New!

WOLFED
Smexy Fairy Tales,
Book 1
Sensuous Fantasy/Paranormal Romance
by Linda Mooney writing as Carolyn Gregg
Word Count: 19.5K
$2.99 e / $7.99 p

Once upon a time, deep within the Enchanted Forest, there existed a place covered in candy, cookies, and other beloved sweets. Known by the locals as The Gingerbread House, it was where, for a price, one could taste the most delectable delights.

Al is going there on a dare, although he doesn't expect the girls to be any different than the ones he's visited elsewhere. But he's been promised the one named Red is unlike any woman he's ever had.

He never should have taken that bet.

Excerpt and Buy Links: https://lindamooney.com/SmexyFairyTales.htm

New! Ynna, a Sci-Fi Romance by Linda Mooney

2026-05-27T03:41:00.000-04:00

New!

Ynna
Sci-Fi Romance
By Linda Mooney
Word Count: 36.9K
$2.99 e / $10.99 p

The ongoing battle between the people of Kur and the Scwurm is escalating, and the Enso of Kur is not sure how much longer they can continue and survive as a planet. It seems the neighboring planet, Luxon, doesn’t have the same problem, but why? Kur needs help before they are taken out completely, and an alliance with Luxon may be just what they need.

Ynna is next in line to lead Luxon. When she learns that her parents have made an arraignment with the Enso of Kur for her to be his family’s guest for a solar month without conferring with her first, she’s upset. The two leaders hope that her being on Kur will stave off any further attacks. However, she’s always wanted to see that planet’s oceans and lush beauty. Hoping the deal may not be as bad as it sounds, she agrees to their plan.

Bron isn’t going to be the next Enso of Kur. That honor will go to his older brother, Ko. However, he’s intrigued as to why they’re going to host Ynna. He suspects there’s more to this so-called agreement than they’re being told. Fortunately, he and the young woman quickly form a mutual friendship.

As the fate of two planets rests in her hands, Ynna soon finds herself at odds when the Scwurm suddenly attack Kur despite her presence there. Before she knows it, she’s at risk of revealing her true self to Bron and the others. And worse, losing that tenuous connection with the young man she’s starting to grow fond of.

Her decision unexpectedly becomes one she can’t avoid when she’s forced to execute the one thing she was born to do.

Warning: Contains an alliance, a walking house, veils, an "I knew it!" moment, stories about an ancient alien race, and two people going against command in order to remain together.

Excerpt and Buy Links: https://lindamooney.com/Ynna.htm

THE CONDEMNED - Book 1, Rowen, a Sci-Fi/Time Travel Romance by Linda Mooney - Chapter 5, Second Chance

2026-05-26T07:33:00.000-04:00

THE CONDEMNED

Book 1 – Rowen

*Note: For purposes of this blog, the content here will be kept to PG standards. However, upon publication, the full novel will include more adult content.

Chapter 5
Second Chance

“Let me see if I got this straight. You and this group you belong to took it upon yourselves to go out and buy food for those who were too poor, or too old, or too ill, and you got busted and punished because you didn’t get the approval of the town council?”

Initially, Rowen thought that his days of being incarcerated would bore him out of his mind, stuck inside this one small cell. It turned out to be just the opposite. He even struck up a good relationship with the sheriff. What started out as the man being out of his office most of the day gradually evolved to where he’d hang out with Rowen instead. Rowen used that time to find out as much about the town and its people as possible, and vice versa. After all, what did he have to lose?

“Yeah. We knew we were breaking the law,” he admitted. “But most of us had family who were suffering. Also, the food and medical supplies and such weren’t just for them. We shared what we could with others.”

“And your town council objected to that? Why?” Melfry made no effort to hide his disdain.

“The council has their own sellers who offer goods and services at discounted prices. They were upset we were undercutting them.”

“But…” The sheriff thought on it. “Let me see if I understand this correctly. You’re buying the goods at their regular price, and the authorities are mad because they believe you’re undercutting them? It makes no sense.”

Rowen snorted. “The way it was explained to us, their families should be buying their own goods, instead of us sharing what we’ve bought.”

“In other words, you buy for you and they buy for themselves.”

“Precisely. Because I and my friends had a little more money, we were able to purchase more and thus share it. The council decided that wasn’t allowed.”

“And you got arrested for it?” Melfry clarified.

“Me and my friends, yes. We were in the middle of dividing up our most recent haul when the authorities broke in and arrested us.”

“What did they do with the food?”

Rowen couldn’t help but let out a derisive bark of laughter. “I have no idea, but I wouldn’t be the least surprised if they took it all for themselves.”

“And they punished you by banishing you?”

Rowen nodded. He’d had no choice but to change several small details to explain how he’d ended up here, but keep enough truth to the story so that no one would sense he was lying or being evasive. “Yeah, since it was a lesser offense. If I’d killed someone, or done something of that caliber, I would’ve gotten the death penalty.”

“How does your town handle that?”

Rowen cast the man a confused look. “How what?”

“How do they kill a man? You said you might have gotten the death penalty if the offense had merited it. What would that entail? Hanging?”

“By lethal injection.”

It was Melfry’s turn to look confused. “By what? Lethal…”

“Injection.” Rowen pointed to his arm and held a forefinger there, using his thumb to mimic inserting the needle.

“What do they inject you with?”

“A fast-acting poison. I don’t know what kind.”

The man nodded. “It would save ammunition, going that route instead of a firing squad. And it’s probably more reliable than a hanging. Too many times I’ve seen someone strung up and later pronounced dead, only to find out they’re still alive. And then what? They cart your body off to the pauper’s grave? Or hand it over to your relatives?”

“There is no pauper’s grave.” Rowen bowed his head. “They cremate the body and dump the ashes in one of the landfill sites.”

“What’s a landfill site?”

“A place where all the collected garbage is thrown. It starts out as a hole in the ground. When it gets filled up, it’s covered over with dirt, and the town starts using the next hole they’d been digging while the last one is being used.”

“They don’t burn the refuse?”

“No. That’s illegal.”

The sheriff grunted. “Sounds like everything over there is illegal. So what happens to the land after it’s filled up?”

“Sometimes the land is sold for builders to build houses or other buildings on. Sometimes it’s sold for other various reasons.”

“Is it ever used as farmland? Or to graze cattle or horses?”

Rowen managed a wry grin. “Only if the town council approves it.”

The sheriff frowned. “Why wouldn’t they approve it?”

“Oh, they do. Eventually. It depends on who greases their palms the best. And, of course, the town council has full authority over what’s planted.”

Melfry grunted again. “I wouldn’t be surprised to learn they also get a good cut of the profits, as well.”

Rowen didn’t respond to the remark. They both knew the sheriff was right.

“And that’s why you and your friends were busted for buying food. Let me guess. You didn’t buy it from one of the councilmen’s cronies, or from one of their farmers.”

“Nope. Got it elsewhere, and don’t ask me where. I don’t want you in any way implicated if I’m recaptured.”

The man narrowed his eyes at him as he took a sip of coffee. The sheriff always kept a pot going on the small cast iron wood-burning stove sitting on the opposite side of the jail. He’d offered some to Rowen, but the taste was too bitter. Since then, Rowen had stuck to drinking water.

“Do you believe they may try to recapture you?”

“No, but I’ve never been banished before, and I’ve never met someone who’s been punished that way. So I don’t know what they might try to do.”

“But you were captured, convicted, and banished. Have I got that right?”

“Yes.”

“What happened to your other friends? Do you know?”

Rowen chewed on his lips. “No, I don’t know. I’m hoping they got the same punishment. At least they’d have a chance of survival.”

There were several more times when he and the sheriff conversed during his two-week incarceration. During that time, Miss Postill was as good as her word, and came by daily to check him for any signs of disease or infection. During one of her visits, he apologized for his lack of hygiene.

“I probably smell like a week-old carcass.”

She softly laughed as she wrinkled up her nose. “More like a month-old one. Doesn’t Sheriff Melfry provide you with any soap and water to wash with?” Not waiting for Rowen to answer, she checked over her shoulder and asked the lawman directly. “I know it’s been a while since you had anyone spend any length of time here, but the least you can do is let him have a chance to bathe like a normal human being.”

Melfry waved a hand to indicate everything around them. “Does this look like an inn to you?”

“You know what I mean,” she shot back. They conversation was cordial, verging on teasing. Yet Rowen could tell her point was getting across.

Rising to her feet, she let out a sigh and addressed the sheriff directly. “It’s been two weeks, Sheriff. I declare this man to be free of disease, and I give him a clean bill of health. Have you received any news that he’s a wanted man?”

“No, ma’am, I haven’t.”

“So when are you going to release him?”

Melfry looked at Rowen. “I can set you free right now, Mr. Taylor. If I do, what’s going to be your next plan of action?”

Rowen stood. “Frankly, I was hoping I might be able to stay here in Callistown. I was going to ask you if you knew anyone who could use a strong back in exchange for room and board?”

The sheriff rubbed his stubbly chin. “What about that town council? Any chance they might be looking for you?”

Rowen was aware of Luka Postill giving him a curious eye. She probably had a slew of questions she wanted to ask him, but she was trying to retain a more professional attitude and not appear to be a gossipy busybody. At least, that’s what he surmised.

“No. Once they banished me, they basically wrote me off.”

“What if you tried to sneak back into town? Or would you even attempt it?”

Rowen threw him a wry grin. “That would been an automatic death sentence.”

“They’d give you one of those lethal injections for reentering?” He seemed incredulous.

“Oh, no. They’d shoot me on the spot and leave my body for the wild animals to feast on.”

She could no longer hold her tongue. “Why were you banished, Mr. Taylor? Why would they try to kill you?”

“I was convicted of theft.” He held up a hand. “It’s a long story.”

“And I’m interested in hearing it. Sheriff? As for Mr. Taylor’s quest for a job, what about Hampton Zwick?”

Melfry’s face lit up. “Good idea! Mr. Taylor, I can take you over to the livery stable and introduce you to Mr. Zwick. You did say you weren’t picky about what kind of job it was, correct?”

A livery stable. Rowen guessed the job would consist of mucking out stalls, as well as feeding and watering the horses. “Not as long as I get fairly compensated.”

“All right.” Walking up to the cell, he unlocked the door and swung it open, stepping aside to let Miss Postill exit first. Staring at Taylor, he waved to him. “What are you waiting for? Let’s go see if Hamp’s willing to give you a fair shake.”

“Mr. Taylor.”

He turned around to face her.

“You realize we’re putting a lot of trust in you, especially now that we know you were convicted of theft.” Her tone had changed, including her attitude. If he could guess, he’d say she was angry at him. Almost disappointed.

It baffled him.

He was about say something in his defense when Melfry spoke up.

“Hold off on the accusation, Miss Postill. It’s not quite as serious as you might be thinking it is.”

She whirled on the man. “He was banished from his town! He said he’d be killed if he tried to go back. That’s not serious?”

“The man’s paid his dues,” Melfry shot back. “He’s trying to rebuild his reputation. Hell, he’s lost everything, and he almost lost his life. I’ve heard his story, and I believe him. I’m willing to give him a second chance. If he screws this one up, I assure you I’ll have no second thoughts about locking him up again and notifying the marshal over in Buckner County to come and haul his ass out of my jail. Will that suit you, Miss Postill?”

Rowen caught the way the woman studied him for a few moments before nodding.

“All right. I’ll keep any further opinions to myself. But Mr. Taylor, I strongly advise you do not disappoint us. Sheriff Melfry is not someone to trifle with, and neither am I. We mean what we say.”

“I’m sure you do,” Rowen solemnly replied.

She threw him one final look, then let herself out. Rowen watched her leave.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything about your conviction,” Melfry commented. “I mean, a man who wants to atone for his sins should be allowed to do so without prejudice. Not unless it’s earned.” He eyed Rowen. “You do realize I’m putting a lot of faith in you, son, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir. And I appreciate it more than you’ll ever know.”

“All right, then.” The man nodded. “Let’s go see if Mr. Zwick has a job he can offer you.”

Rowen noticed the sheriff’s reaction as he walked past him.

“One thing’s for certain,” Melfry quipped. “You’ll blend right in with the animals.”

It was difficult to tell if the man was teasing or not. Either way, Rowen made it a point to find out where the nearest tub of bathwater was and dunk himself, clothes and all, into it.

It would at least be a start.

TO BE CONTINUED

Linda's Website

THE CONDEMNED - Book 1, Rowen, a Sci-Fi/Time Travel Romance by Linda Mooney - Chapter 4, Questions

2026-04-28T04:53:00.012-04:00

THE CONDEMNED
Book 1 – Rowen

*Note: For purposes of this blog, the content here will be kept to PG standards. However, upon publication, the full novel will include more adult content.

Chapter 4
Questions

Rowan silently tolerated Miss Postill’s examinations, which she performed with what he conceded was skill and knowledge. It was evident she’d done such inspections before.

What he had difficulty with was her lack of what he considered basic hygiene. In short, she didn’t wash her hands or in any way use some sort of sterilization process. She wore no gloves, and he eyed the instruments she used with more than a bit of trepidation.

It didn’t go unnoticed.

Shoving his t-shirt up to his neck, she checked the scrapes and bruises on his skin. When her fingers lightly brushed across his abs, she left a path of goosebumps in their wake. He couldn’t help sucking in his breath at her touch, earning him an amused glance from those soft brown eyes.

At one point, while she investigated his ear canals, then used the same small tube to peer up his nose, she paused to give him another curious stare. “Is something the matter, Mr. Taylor? You have been acting strangely the entire time I’ve been examining you.”

“I was just wondering who the last person was that you used that thing on,” he admitted.

“What would it matter?”

He could tell she was honestly curious as to his comment. If this was 1884, then she should be aware of procedures like sterilization, right?

He mentally cursed his lack of knowledge for not knowing when those measures became protocol at hospitals and all. On the other hand, he knew he shouldn’t be too hard on himself. It’s not like it was an issue in my line of work. Sadly, yet amusingly, he realized he couldn’t research the subject on his phone, either, as he would have done in the past. Or rather, in the future.

However, he did have an “out,” so to speak—letting her think it was the norm back where he was from.

“I thought all medical equipment had to be sanitized between uses.” His eyes dropped to her hands. “And doctors had to wash their hands frequently to prevent the transfer of germs.”

The woman continued to stare at him for a few seconds, then resumed her check of his nasal cavities before dropping the tube back inside her box of medical paraphernalia. Closing the lid, she got to her feet.

“As far as I can tell, you’re as healthy as a horse, Mr. Taylor. Other than the fact that you’re dehydrated and malnourished, and you’ve been roughed up a bit, you should be back on your feet in no time. When was the last time you ate anything substantial?”

Rowen made a face. “I have no idea.” It was the honest truth.

“That’s what I thought. Sheriff Melfry, I’m finished here.” She turned around. The hem of her skirt swished across his legs, sending a small shockwave through him.

Rowen never took his eyes off her as the sheriff unlocked the cell door to let her out. She stopped beside his desk to tie her bonnet back on her head while the man relocked the door and hung the key on a nail on the wall.

“He needs to be fed as soon as possible if you don’t want a dead prisoner come morning,” she brusquely told him.

“I’ll see to it he gets something to eat when we’re done here,” Melfry promised. “What about diseases?”

“He’s clean,” Postill pronounced, adding a small smile. “Trust me, I wouldn’t have been so casual about leaving him in your care if I felt he might be a danger to others health-wise.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“How long do you plan on keeping him in custody?” the woman inquired.

If Rowen didn’t know any better, he’d swear the sheriff looked uncomfortable being asked that question. “I’m not sure.”

“What crime has he committed that made you lock him up, other than you think he might be carrying a sickness?”

“He hasn’t, as far as we know.”

“So, because he’s a stranger to our town, that automatically calls for his detainment?”

A flush came over the lawman’s face. “Actually, it’s for the town’s own good. How long he’ll stay in my custody depends on whether or not he’s a wanted man elsewhere.”

The woman stared at him. Rowen recognized that look. He’d been on the other end of it not too long ago.

“How long will that take?” she bluntly requested.

“I don’t know, ma’am. It depends.”

“What if you don’t receive any information about him? Will you continue to hold him? Or will you let him go? Or perhaps you would rather drive him out of town and be done with him for good?”

By now, the sheriff was getting peeved at the woman. “Frankly, Miss Postill, that’s none of your business.”

“I’m afraid you’re wrong about that, Sheriff. You requested me here to look after this man. Some diseases can take as long as a couple of weeks before they start manifesting symptoms. For now, I don’t see anything wrong with this man that some food and rest won’t cure, but that doesn’t mean he’s completely in the clear.” She gave a nod in Rowen’s direction. “I’m sure you understand now why I need to know how long you’ll be holding him.”

Melfry visibly relaxed. “Let’s count on Mr. Taylor remaining a guest here for two weeks, under quarantine, of course. At the end of that time, hopefully you’ll have cleared him medically, and we’ll have received some definitive answers as to whether or not he’s a wanted or escaped criminal.” The man walked over to the door and opened it. “I’m heading over to the telegraph office right now. Since your office is along the way, may I escort you there?”

She smiled at the man, but Rowen could tell it was more for show than an honest reaction. “Thank you, Sheriff. I appreciate the gesture. Mr. Taylor?” She looked over at where he was still lying. “I’ll be back later to make sure you received something to eat.” Giving the sheriff one final all-knowing look, she exited out the door with Melfry right behind her.

Left alone for the first time, Rowen struggled to roll onto his side. Once he accomplished that, he managed to sit up, bracing his back against the rough stone wall for support. Now he was able to get a better look at the place, knowing it was going to be his temporary home for the next two weeks, at least.

There were only two windows in this place that allowed light and air inside. One of them was directly above his head. Barely twelve by nine inches in size, it was much too small to crawl through. The other one, a much larger one, was next to the door and across from where the sheriff’s desk was parked. That way Melfry could see whoever was approaching the place. If Rowen was standing, he’d be able to peer through, but right now, his current view consisted of the clear blue sky and an overhanging tree branch.

He surveyed the small jail again. “These people mustn’t have a lot of crime since there’s just this one cell. Wonder what would happen if Melfry had two or more people that needed to be incarcerated?”

Tilting his head back, Rowen slowly rotated it from side to side to ease the tension. “All right. I got two weeks, and then Melfry will have to release me because there won’t be anything he can hold me on, right?” Rowen shook his head. “Let’s hope he won’t fabricate any charges. And let’s hope I don’t suddenly come down with something that this day and age can’t handle. But if I’m cleared, what can I do next? Where can I go? What can I do? I need to find employment, a place to stay…”

He lifted his knees and rested his arms on them. “All I know, all I’ve been trained to do, none of it exists, and won’t exist for another hundred years. What’s left for me, other than manual labor? And even that isn’t guaranteed. I don’t know how things were done in this time period. I know nothing about raising crops, or caring for horses, or any of that.” He took a deep breath. “But I can learn.” Rowen stared at his hands, flexing his fingers. “I’m strong and healthy. If I need to put my back into learning a new trade, I’m capable.”

A chuckle came over him, and he glanced back up at the big window. “I could leave this town once I’m freed, but what would be the sense of it?”

A dozen questions continued to plague him. A hundred possibilities jostled for position in his mind. However, one thing, one person seemed to be calling to him above all his indecisions and fears.

“Maybe, just maybe, if I stay here, will I get the chance to see you again in a less formal situation, Miss Postill?”

She’d promised to be back to check on him. For the first time since his incarceration, he wasn’t dreading what the next two weeks would bring.

TO BE CONTINUED

Linda's Website

New! NO BATTLE LORD'S CHOICE, Book 12 of The Battle Lord Saga, a Sci-Fi/Futuristic/Post-Apocalyptic Romance By Linda Mooney

2026-04-24T04:30:00.002-04:00

New!

NO BATTLE LORD'S CHOICE
Book 12 of The Battle Lord Saga
Sci-Fi/Futuristic/Post-Apocalyptic Romance
By Linda Mooney
Word Count: 67.3K
$3.99 e / $10.99 p

The Alta Novis compound is readying for the big D’Jacques birthday celebration, and people from days away are coming in for the occasion, Normal and Mutah alike. Yulen and Atty are stretched thin, especially with Yulen’s second, Cole Mastin, being gone for a month to visit his in-laws. Is it too much to hope the celebration goes off without a hitch? Maybe Cole shouldn’t have mentioned how quiet it had been lately.

But when Cole doesn’t return as promised, Yulen makes the decision to take a few of his most trusted men to go in search of the missing group. What they find along the way is devastating. Paas’ entire village has been decimated, and almost every member of the Lanta tribe slaughtered, but there are no signs of the second or his family. Determined to find them, dead or alive, Yulen and Atty keep going.

It seems the Bloods are learning, evolving, and becoming more advanced than what everyone has experienced in the past. But the Bloods aren’t the only enemies the D’Jacques have to watch out for. Can they find Cole and the rest before it’s too late? Or will Yulen and Atty meet their end along the way?

Warning! Contains horseless wagons, a birthday celebration, a debt owed, decimation, foreshadowing, connecting the dots, trusting with his life, buying time, and a bond of love that is deeper than the heart.

Excerpt and Buy Links: https://lindamooney.com/BattleLord.htm

Now Available as an Audiobook! I MARRIED A GOOBIE, a Humorous Smexy Sci-Fi Romance by Linda Mooney Writing as Carolyn Gregg

2026-04-09T04:00:00.001-04:00

Now Available as an Audiobook!

I MARRIED A GOOBIE
Humorous Smexy Sci-Fi Romance
By Linda Mooney Writing as Carolyn Gregg

Word Count: 22.8K
$2.99 e / $7.99 p / $6.95 a

Narrated by Linda Mooney
Length: 2 hrs, 26 min
Hear a Sample: https://amzn.to/4skr25o

Let me tell you about the night I was on the most perfect date of my life when I got attacked by a pair of enormous alien chopsticks, which then shoveled me into a giant plastic straw that Hoovered me up into their alien spacecraft. When I got there, I had to pleasure an oversized green donut with custard cream filling. And when all was said and done...

Well, that's when the you-know-what hit the fan, and everything just got real.

And it was only the beginning!

Excerpt and Buy Links: https://lindamooney.com/IMarriedaGoobie.htm

THE CONDEMNED - Book 1, Rowen, a Sci-Fi/Time Travel Romance by Linda Mooney - Chapter 3, Jailed

2026-03-24T12:36:00.035-04:00

THE CONDEMNED
Book 1 – Rowen

*Note: For purposes of this blog, the content here will be kept to PG standards. However, upon publication, the full novel will include more adult content.

Chapter 3
Jailed

Rowen was aware of being carried. Two people had him by the arms, one on either side of him, and they were dragging him backwards somewhere. He could feel his heels dragging the ground. His head lolled chin down on his chest, enabling him to take a peek between his lashes to see where they were going, but he didn’t dare open them all the way for fear there might be a third person trailing behind.

His intuition proved correct when he heard someone near his feet speak out.

“Do we know where he’s from? I don’t recall ever seeing someone dressed the way he’s dressed.”

“Which is why we must assume the worst until proven otherwise,” the man on his right mentioned.

“If he’s an enemy, why isn’t he armed?” the man to his left inquired. The guy sounded younger. Hence, inexperienced.

“I say he’s an escaped prisoner,” the man following proclaimed.

Rowen whimsically gave the guy credit for that assessment before drifting off again.

It was when he was laid flat on the ground that he reawakened. This time, he opened his eyes to find a canopy of leaves overhead. Although he could no longer smell the sea, he thought he faintly heard waves crashing in the distance.

“He’s awake,” a voice declared. Something nudged his right shoulder. Turning his head, Rowen stared up into a roughhewn face burnt tan and leathery from years in the sun, despite the wide-brimmed hat the man wore. Thankfully, the brim also blocked the sun from blinding him.

Rowen started to lift a hand when he realized his wrists were tied with a thick rope. Although he didn’t check, he wouldn’t have been surprised to find his ankles similarly bound.

“Wa-ter.” It was agony to speak, but the man standing over him heard and understood.

“Faith, bring this man some water.” The guy peered back down at him. “Guess we’ll have to wait a bit longer to find out who you are and what you’re doing here.”

Judging by the tone, Rowen couldn’t tell if the man was making a jest, but for the moment he decided it would be safer if he took everything as potentially life-threatening. He was already grateful that these people hadn’t killed him on sight.

A tin cup was handed to the man, but he waved it off, gesturing to Rowen. A figure knelt down on his other side. Lifting his head with one hand, a woman held the cup to his lips. He tried to gulp the contents but she admonished him.

“Drink slowly, or else your body will reject it.”

Rowen forced himself to sip the cool water despite the raging need to swig it down. She only allowed him half the cup when she withdrew it and rested his head back on the ground. That was the signal for the man to get down on one knee to peer closer at him.

“Can you speak now?”

He cleared his throat. “I can…try.” His voice sounded stronger, but not by much.

“Who are you? What is your name?”

Rowen swallowed again. “My name’s Rowen Taylor.”

“Where are you from?”

Rowen eyed the man’s attire. He recognized the style, or hoped he did, although he’d only seen that type of clothing in history books.

“Corinth City.”

The man frowned. “Corinth City? I’m not aware of the place. Is it far from here?”

“Yeah. Very far.” Maybe not in distance, but when it came to time, Rowen hadn’t lied. He knew he had to come up with a plausible story soon to explain his being here. There was no way he could tell the man the whole truth.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m lost. I was looking for shelter. Food. Water.”

A second, younger man came up behind the first. “Did you ask him if there was anyone else with him?” Rowen recognized the voice as the one who’d held his left arm.

The first man eyed Rowen. “You heard him. Is there anyone else with you?”

“No. I’m…” He swallowed hard. “Alone.”

The man continued to study him. Rowen wondered if he was trying to figure out if Rowen was a potential threat. He took the lull to ask the stranger, “What is your name, sir?”

“I am Obediah Goodall.” He threw a finger at the young man beside him. “This is my son, Abraham. You have already met my wife, Faith.”

“Thank you for saving me.”

“How long have you been wandering around out there?” Goodall questioned.

Closing his eyes, Rowen shook his head. “I don’t know. I’ve lost track of time.” He took a deep breath. “May I please have some more water?” When he opened his eyes, he noticed Goodall giving his silent approval to his wife. Lifting his head a second time, she let him have the rest of what was in the cup. As she set his head back down, he thanked her. She gave him a quick smile then got to her feet and left.

“When was the last time you ate, Mr. Taylor?” Goodall continued.

“Days.” It was as honest an answer as he could muster. His head was beginning to swim. The water had helped, but now that he’d been given that meager amount, it had reawakened his body to more of its needs.

“Obediah.”

Someone behind Rowen was approaching them. He was unable to see who it was, but he could hear their conversation.

“What have you learned?” It was a man, and he spoke with authority.

“His name is Rowen Taylor. He’s from a place called Corinth City. He’s been traveling for several days, and he’s alone and unarmed.”

“And you believe him?”

“So far, I feel I have no reason not to.”

Rowen didn’t know why Goodall was defending him, but apparently the man’s word carried weight.

“We’re taking him to the jail house,” the son, Abraham, added.

The strange man, whom Rowen mentally labeled as an alderman or someone of equal status, apparently agreed with that decision. “Good. Have someone fetch the doctor to check him out. We can’t take the chance of him carrying a disease that could make us all sick.”

There wasn’t a verbal answer, but Rowen knew there was agreement.

The other man left, and Goodall returned.

“Help me take him to the jail,” he ordered his son, and the two men grabbed Rowen under the arms again to drag him the rest of the way. This time he was able to get a look at his feet. As he’d suspected, they were bound at the ankles.

Since they knew he was awake, Rowen took in his surroundings. At the sight of the simple wood-frame buildings, none of which were over a story tall, and especially the sod houses that lined the muddy road. A few people watched from their doorways or along the lane as he was half-carried to their destination. Rowen also noted there were no automobiles. Just wagons and the occasional horse. This place was barely a township, but he knew in a few hundred years it would prosper and grow to become a major metropolitan center.

The jail turned out to be a small wooden building. Inside was a table, a chair, a few wanted posters, and a single cell with a pallet on the floor. Rowen was dumped on the pallet but the ropes binding him remained intact.

Goodall was closing the cell door when a tall, lanky man with a handlebar mustache strode into the building. A silver medallion glittered on his vest.

“Obediah? I understand I have a guest?”

“Abraham found him wandering around by the seashore.”

“At first, I thought he was under the influence of drink,” Abraham spoke up. “When he keeled over before I could find out who he was, I ran to fetch my pa.”

The lawman gave a nod as he glanced at Rowen. “What have you found out, if anything?”

“He calls himself Rowen Taylor,” Goodall informed him. “He says he’s from a place I’ve never heard of. A place called Corinth City. Are you familiar with the name?”

The lawman’s face screwed up in thought. “Can’t say that I am, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.”

“I asked Alderman Latham to fetch Doc to check him over,” Goodall mentioned. “Make sure he doesn’t have any kind of disease that could endanger us.”

“Good call. Thanks. Anything else you want to add before I question the prisoner myself? Was he carrying any weapons?”

“No. None that we could find. Just this.”

Rowen stared in surprise when Goodall produced his cell phone from his pants pocket. He’d forgotten he had it on him.

Fat lot it’ll do me now.

The lawman shook it, which brought up the sign-in screen, but not knowing what the numbered buttons were for, the man made a rude noise and held up the phone for Rowen to see.

“What is this? Some kind of weapon?”

Rowen opened his mouth, hoping to come up with a plausible explanation, when it hit him.

Play dumb.

“I found it on the beach. I don’t know what it is, but I figured someone might be willing to trade for it in exchange for something to eat.”

The lawman grunted as he shook it again. Giving up for the moment, he tossed it onto the desk with a clatter. “If that’s all he had on him, he doesn’t have possession of it now.”

The door behind him opened, and a young woman came inside. Facing the two men, she glanced from one to the other, settling on the lawman. “Sheriff Melfry? You sent for me?”

Goodall gestured toward Rowen. “We found this man on the seashore, passed out. He’s already been relieved of anything we feel might be a weapon, but we need for him to be checked to make sure he’s not carrying any diseases that might infect us.”

The woman nodded and approached the cell. Rowen watched as she came inside and set a small wooden box she’d been carrying on the floor beside his pallet. Getting down on her knees, she bent over him and placed a cool hand on the side of his neck.

“Are you the doctor?” Rowan croaked, unable to tear his eyes away. She was young. Not exactly beautiful, but her face was arresting, especially her large blue eyes.

“I’m the closest thing this town has to one,” she replied and sat back on her heels. “You don’t seem to have a fever. What do I call you?”

“My name’s Rowen Taylor.”

“Hello, Mr. Taylor. My name’s Luka Postill. Welcome to Callistown. Now tell me, how do you feel? Do you hurt anywhere?”

Rowen remained staring at her, but now his brain was sending up fireworks as he vaguely recalled his history lessons when he’d been a kid in school.

Callistown was the name of Corinth City before it was taken over by The Assembly and renamed.

“Mrs. Post— Excuse me, Dr. Postill?”

She smiled down at him as she removed her bonnet and set it aside. “Miss Postill will do. I have neither a marriage certificate nor a medical license.”

“Miss Postill, what year is this?”

The pleasant expression on her face went from surprise, to curiosity, to concern. “You want to know what year this is?” she repeated. Behind her, the sheriff and Goodall wore identical expressions.

“Yes. Please.”

“It’s the year of our Lord, eighteen eighty-four. You didn’t know that?”

1884. He’d gone back more than three hundred years.

And he was condemned to this time period for the rest of his life.

TO BE CONTINUED

Linda's Website

Now Available as a Box Set! NOIR FAIRY TALES, Books 1 – 3, Fantasy/Paranormal Romance by Linda Mooney

2026-03-07T07:53:00.030-05:00

Now Available as a Box Set!

NOIR FAIRY TALES, Books 1 – 3
Fantasy/Paranormal Romance
By Linda Mooney
Word Count: 116K
$6.99 e

Available for a Short Time ON KINDLE UNLIMITED!

The 1940s. Life in Grimm City can be just as fabulous as it is dangerous. But it's not a place that can be found on any map. Welcome to a world of gun-toting, hard-drinking, cigarette-smoking fairies, elves, dwarfs, shifters, and witches, as well as human beings.

Welcome to Noir Fairy Tales.

Included are:

THE CASE OF THE TORMENTED TROLL
Noir Fairy Tales, Book 1
(Based on "Beauty and the Beast")

Aura and Beldon are partners. He’s an ex-cop who was framed for something he didn’t do and kicked off the force. Soon after hanging out the shingle of his detective agency, he found Aura homeless in the streets after the death of her father. Something about the young woman touched him deep inside, and he took her in and trained her how to be a gumshoe.

MALEVOLENT INTENT
Noir Fairy Tales, Book 2
(Based on "Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs")

Rose White has had a string of bad luck, and it doesn’t seem to be ending any time soon. When two fairies are found dead in her nightclub, her livelihood is shut down until further notice. With no income coming in, and her employees left hanging, she’s forced to look for other alternatives.

THE GOLDEN HEIST
Noir Fairy Tales, Book 3
(Based on "Goldilocks and the 3 Bears")

Looking for a quick buck to help feed her addiction, Cressa “Goldie” Locke helps herself to a nice looking house, hoping to score some jewelry to pawn. She’s perfected the art of small-time crime to keep from getting busted, but this time she may have gotten a little more than she bargained for. She picked the wrong house...or maybe it was just right.

Excerpts and Buy Links: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0GQ2T5QM3

THE CONDEMNED - Book 1, Rowen, a Sci-Fi/Time Travel Romance by Linda Mooney - Chapter 2, 8:43 pm

2026-02-24T05:23:00.020-05:00

THE CONDEMNED
Book 1 – Rowen

*Note: For purposes of this blog, the content here will be kept to PG standards. However, upon publication, the full novel will include more adult content.

Chapter 2
8:43 pm

To the traveler, transporting to a new time period felt as if it took several minutes, when in fact it was instantaneous. Rowen kept his eyes closed until he felt his body stabilize, letting him know the transfer was complete. The sensation was similar to whenever an elevator reached its designated floor, and there was that brief moment of weightlessness before it settled.

It had been nighttime when he was ejected back into the past. It would still be nighttime, at almost the exact moment he’d left to when he arrived at whenever he was.

A hot wind blew over him. Opening his eyes, he found himself standing alone and completely surrounded by…

Nothing. No buildings. No streets. No people or traffic. No anything. He was in the middle of a barren field with only the stars and a three-quarter moon overhead to light his way.

“But at least it’s not cold,” he whispered. “No freezing to death. No storm to deal with. I’m still alive, Campanelli. I don’t know what you thought would happen when you sent me back here, but I’m still alive.”

He took several deep breaths to steady himself and try to figure out what to do next. Gazing around him, he studied the horizons, trying to spot a light or something that might indicate dwellings. Habitations and humanity. Hell, even a passing vehicle in the distance would be welcome.

Rowen checked his watch. It was a rare and valuable antique, handed down to him via several generations. It was not automatically synched to technology. It didn’t light up because the numbers and hands on the face were made of a luminescent material that glowed in the dark. And the best part of it was that he had to wind it every day or so to keep it running. No batteries were needed. No charging of any kind was required. It was perfect for whenever it was his turn to travel back because he never had to worry about losing all track of time—especially when it was imperative he know he was approaching the end of his hour and he finish his business before the conduit jerked him back to his present.

8:43 pm.

Sighing, Rowen stood straight and faced forward in the same direction he had on the platform. He knew he faced due south. He knew he was still in the city, or what would become the city in the decades or eons to come. He also knew that if he started walking and remained on a southerly course, he’d eventually reach the ocean. Hopefully there’d be settlers there. If not…

“I’m screwed.” He shrugged as he took off walking. “Well, I always wanted to learn how to fish.”

He kept an eye on his watch to see how far he’d gone. Doing some basic math calculations based how many steps per minute he took and the approximate length of each step, he figured he was clocking around three, maybe three and a half miles an hour. It was a mental struggle not to break into a run, but he was beginning to wonder if he was truly alone out here in the middle of nowhere. There were wild animals to take into consideration. Hungry wild animals, not to mention creatures like snakes and insects.

“Remain calm and keep it steady,” he told himself. “If you try to go faster, you could attract the attention of something you don’t want stalking you. You’ll also wear yourself out faster, and the last thing you need is to collapse out here where you’ll be vulnerable to who knows what.”

He searched the semi-darkness for some sign of trees or anything that broke the horizon. By now he knew he hadn’t gone back a few years or a few decades. He’d been sent hundreds of years into the past.

At one point, he had to stop to briefly rest. He took the chance and sat on the ground to give his legs a break. As he strained to hear anything unusual coming from the surrounding landscape, he placed his hand on the dirt. It was dry and packed, but not sandy.

“That’s good,” he murmured. “The only sandy soil I want to feel is a beach, not a desert.” He sniffed his fingers. “This place is untouched. There’s been no farming or tilling. It’s almost barren wasteland.”

He checked his watch again. 11:16 pm.

“Get up and get moving, Taylor. You gotta find shelter before you try to get a couple hours’ of sleep.”

As he plodded along, he tried to remember the history of this part of the country. When had it been founded? Who had colonized it? More importantly, when had it been colonized? Unfortunately, exhaustion was catching up to him. He wasn’t moving as swiftly as he had earlier, and he knew why. For one thing, he hadn’t eaten since…when?

“A little over twelve hours ago,” he reminded himself. And that had been just a small bowl of bean soup he’d taken with him to work to have for lunch. Right after he’d gotten off his shift and gotten paid, he’d gone to the dispensary to get his mother’s medicine and took it straight to the apartment they shared with his younger sibling. Then he’d headed for the labs, hoping there’d be a few food items waiting for him.

He recalled the bag sitting in his locker, and the heaviness he’d been fighting wrapped around his heart. The crushing pain became too much, and he was forced to stop. Bending over, he placed his hands on his thighs as his new reality rose up, along with hot tears, and he wept.

He’d never see his mother and sister again. They’d never get the food he’d been bringing home almost on a regular basis. Worse, it took both his and Gretchen’s meager pay to afford their apartment, pay the bills, and get their mother the care and treatment she needed. Without him there to no longer help provide his half of their support…

Rowen shook his head as hard and heavy sobs continued to wrack his body. He ended up collapsing on the ground until he finally managed to pull himself together. Using the bottom of his shirt, he wiped his eyes and blew his nose before getting back to his feet and pushing on.

By 1:29 a.m., weariness threatened to overtake him. He was fighting dizziness, and he desperately needed something to drink. Giving himself another couple of minutes to rest, he stopped as something caught his attention in the distance.

A light, or several lights dimly shone, but they appeared to be moving. Shimmering. In addition, was it his imagination, or could he hear the surf hitting the beach? Rowen sniffed, hoping to catch the smell of the sea. No such luck. Worse, the dry heat was getting to him, sapping every drop of moisture from his body.

“It’s not far, old man,” he promised himself. “You’re almost there. Keep pushing just a little farther. You can do this. You got this!”

It took effort to stand up again. Walking now was more of an exercise in trying to keep from falling, but he knew that if he didn’t force himself, there was the chance he may never wake up come daylight. And the last thing he wanted was for Assemblyman General Campanelli’s fervent wish for his death to come true.

He had no idea how far he’d gone when the ground gently sloped upward. He had to crawl on hands and knees to climb it. Once he topped the rise, he paused to watch the waves lapping the shoreline ahead of him. Now he could smell the salty tang. And the lights he’d observed shimmering were the stars reflecting on the water.

He’d reached the bay and the other side of the city that had yet to be built.

Rowen didn’t care if his shoes got wet as he slowly waded into the water. The cool waves gently splashed his ankles and calves, and he gratefully fell onto the moist sand. Lying on his back, he gazed up at the panorama of stars in the clear sky. The moon was nowhere to be seen, but it didn’t matter.

“You gotta get up, Rowen,” he told himself. “You can’t stay here as much as you want to. There are crabs and other critters who’d love to nibble on you. Get up. There’s bound to be something around here safe where you can rest. Just not here. Not here. But that water feels so damn good.”

He was on the verge of passing out. Half of him wanted to succumb. The other half was yelling at him not to.

The need to survive won out.

Rolling over, he somehow got back on his feet and began following the beach to wherever it led. There had to be habitation somewhere. He prayed he’d find a small settlement or village.

He was about to round a set of dunes when something pointed was shoved in his back.

“Stop right there,” a deep voice demanded. “Who are you, and what are you doing here?”

Rowen never got the chance to answer. His knees buckled, pitching his body sideways into the dune, hitting the soft sand, and he slid unconscious down to the water’s edge.

TO BE CONTINUED

Linda's Website

Now Available as an Audiobook! ILLUSTRA, an Apocalyptic Contemporary Sci-Fi Romance, Written and Narrated by Linda Mooney

2026-02-19T07:10:00.005-05:00

Now Available as an Audiobook!

ILLUSTRA
Apocalyptic Contemporary Sci-Fi Romance
Word Count: 24.2K
$2.99 e / $7.99 p / $6.95 a

Written and Narrated by Linda Mooney
Length: 2 hrs, 28 min

Hear a Sample: https://www.audible.com/pd/B0GP2JMDQY

After driving through the night, Cecily Mars is ready to get settled in her new town when she arrives, but first she needs to crash for a few hours. When she awakens, she decides to grab dinner at the local diner, and is met with rude comments about an obviously pregnant server. She’s curious as to why, and doesn’t feel it’s fair to judge, so she requests that server. She wasn’t expecting the remarks she heard regarding the sweet waitress, or for the locals to treat her so badly. But even Cecily has to admit, the story they claim the woman's telling about the baby’s father does seem a little…out there.

When Cecily returns the next night for dinner and learns that the pregnant waitress, Eva, has been let go, she feels sorry for the girl and comes up with a possible solution. She offers the woman a job at the store where she is working. Regardless of the rumors flying, Cecily wants to give the mother-to-be a chance.

Still, she wonders how Eva could be so adamant and sound so truthful? No one in town believes her, but Cecily wants to find out more. Eva’s story pulls at her heartstrings, as well as piques her curiosity. Whether it’s true or not, it's evident Eva will need help with the coming birth, and she could also use a friend.

It doesn’t take Eva long to make Cecily a believer.

Illustra is an out-of-this-world tale of love, kindness, compassion, acceptance, and rescue from a doomed planet.

Warning! Contains eating an apple—stem, seeds, core, and all—small town gossip, a harrowing rescue, and the consequences resulting from a simple act of compassion.

Excerpt and Buy Links: https://lindamooney.com/Illustra.htm

Here be Magic

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THE CONDEMNED - Book 1, Rowen, a Sci-Fi/Time Travel Romance by Linda Mooney - Chapter 2, 8:43 pm

Now Available as an Audiobook! ILLUSTRA, an Apocalyptic Contemporary Sci-Fi Romance, Written and Narrated by Linda Mooney

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Welcome to HERE BE NEWS, where we bring you all the latest from the fantasy romance authors at Here Be Magic:

https://dl.bookfunnel.com/xofy3ssvv7

Touch Of A Vanished Hand
Oberon Book 5.0
PG Forte