Tuesday, May 20, 2025

THE IMMORTAL, a Fantasy Romance by Linda Mooney - Chapter 5, The Deal

Posted by: Linda Mooney

THE IMMORTAL

Chapter 5 - The Deal

            The next morning, Clea saw Jonah walking out of Joseph’s bedroom. He was bundled against the cold, with his backpack slung over one shoulder. He said nothing as he passed her. Not even to glance her way as he continued toward the kitchen and the back door.

Dropping the t-shirt she’d been folding from the basket of laundry sitting on the sofa, she followed him outside. “Where do you think you’re going?” she managed to ask. It promised to be a bright, sunny day with a hint of spring in the warming air.

            He paused and turned around to look at her with those amazing blue eyes. “It has come to the point where I can no longer take up room in your home.”

            She fought to hide her sudden disappointment. “You’re leaving?”

            “I have no choice, madam.”

            “That’s bull hockey and you know it!” she suddenly blurted out, and immediately reined herself back in. “I mean, you haven’t overstayed your welcome.” She gave him a weak smile. “You know the old saying about fish and visitors.”

            His warm smile caught her by surprise. “I know what you meant to say. Let me ask you this instead. How long were you expecting me to stay? Longer than those three days? How long were you going to allow me to take advantage of your generosity? To eat your food without payment or compensation? How long were you willing to put up with me until you grew tired of my company and wished there was a way to politely ask me to leave?”

            She stared at him. Although the thought had occurred to her more than once these past couple of days, she’d never actually entertained the notion of telling him to leave. Not yet, anyway. Clea opened her mouth to respond, but her mind seemed to freeze.

            Jonah sighed. “That is why I’ve taken the first step to alleviate you of that duty. I will be on my way. However…” He gave a humorless chuckle. “Do not be alarmed if at some point I unexpectedly reappear.”

            “Mr. Cobb…Jonah…” She reached out to him, caught herself, and quickly drew her hand back. “You don’t need to go…just yet.” She pointed to the house. “Let me fix you some breakfast first. Please. No sense heading out on an empty stomach. And you’ll feel better, too.”

            He glanced down at the stretch of road at the end of the gravel drive leading up to the house. After a few moments, he nodded. “Very well. You make a very convincing argument.”

            Clea let out the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding as she reentered the house. He hurriedly cut in front of her to hold the screen door open before following her inside.

            “Take off that coat and have a seat,” she instructed, realizing she was using the same tone of voice she used whenever she was giving her son directions. She pulled the bowl of eggs from the fridge, setting it on the counter as she retrieved the skillet from the oven where it was stored. “How would you like your eggs?”

            “It matters not. I’ve had them raw when there was no other choice. As long as you don’t serve them to me that way, I shall be happy.”

            She looked back at him. He was teasing her, yet at the same time he was serious as he gave her another glimpse into his mysterious past.

            As the eggs cooked, she dropped two slices of bread into the toaster. “I’d offer you a choice of bacon or sausage, but we’re out, and I haven’t been able to get to the store.”

            “I will not miss them, madam,” he assured her.

            When the eggs were done, she shoveled them onto a plate, added the toast, and went over to the table to set his meal in front of him. Jonah raised an eyebrow at her.

            “Are you not joining me?”

            “I’ve already eaten. I had breakfast with Joey before he left for school.”

            The man nodded. “I recall hearing faint conversation earlier.”

            Clea returned to the stove where the kettle was heating. Pulling a tea bag from the box in the pantry, she placed it in a mug and added hot water. She then poured herself a cup of coffee from the pot sitting on the other burner, then took both mugs over to the table where she sat in a chair across from him.

            “The eggs are perfect. So is the toast,” he praised her, reaching for the jar of honey to sweeten his tea. The gesture reminded her she’d forgotten to put the butter and jam on the table and got to her feet but he stopped her. “Please sit back down, Clea.”

            “I was going to get you some butter and jam for the toast.”

            “I have no need of it. We have more important matters to discuss.”

            She took her seat again and lifted her mug of coffee to her lips, blowing on the surface before taking a sip. She winced. “Butter and jam aren’t the only things I forgot.”

            Her remark elicited another chuckle from him. “You forgot the sugar,” he commented. At her surprised expression, he smiled. “I’ve learned to be very observant. It’s a skill that has saved my hide several times in the past.”

            He waited until she’d taken a couple of spoonsful from the bowl in front of her, stirred them into her drink, then tasted it again to be sure it was to her liking before he continued.

            “Madam…Clea…you and I both know I cannot remain here for any long period of time. Eventually your neighbors will learn of my presence, and the thought of me besmirching your name and reputation is what helped me to decide I must leave.”

            Sitting her mug on the table, she kept her head bowed until she was able to come to grips with her emotions. She knew he couldn’t stay, but another part of her kept demanding, “Why not?” This day was inevitable, yet did it have to come so soon?

“You don’t know me, Jonah. You don’t know anything about me, so how can you assume I give a damn about what my neighbors would think if they learned about you staying here? Which, by the way, they probably already do, since Joey may have already let the cat out of the bag.”

            She lifted her face to meet his direct gaze. “There’s something about you I can’t put my finger on. But from the moment we first spoke, I knew I could trust you. I don’t know why or how, but if I hadn’t, I would have left you out in the cold in a heartbeat and never regretted my decision.”

            Jonah plucked a napkin from the holder on the table and wiped his mouth and beard. “Of that I have no doubt,” he admitted.

            “And now…” Clea took a deep breath. “I don’t want you to go. At least, not now.”

            “Madam...”

            “Shut up and let me have my say. Then you can decide what you want to do. Don’t think that I haven’t tried to think this through before now. I’ve spent hours lying in bed at night, wondering what the next day would bring. Whether you’d still be here come sunup, or if I’d find Joey’s bed empty because you’d popped out somewhere, voluntarily or involuntarily.” She tried to smile but was only able to offer a lopsided grin. Taking another sip of coffee, she continued as he silently watched her. No doubt studying her as he weighed every word she said.

            “Like I said, there’s something about you that makes me feel, I don’t know. I guess what I’m trying to say is ‘safe.’ I feel safe around you. More importantly, I feel safe when Joey’s around you. It’s like he finally has some sort of older male figure, almost like a father figure, that he can relate to. That he can…talk to…about man things. About things I can’t understand or help him with. Am I making any sense at all?”

            “Indeed, madam. You’re making perfect sense.” Pushing aside his plate, Jonah leaned over the table and crossed his arms in front of him. “Feel free at any time to tell me to mind my own business, but I have to ask. How long ago did your husband leave you? Or is he deceased?”

            She felt her face grow warm and knew she was blushing. Not because she was embarrassed, but because of shame. She couldn’t guess how he knew Eddie was no longer in the picture, but right now it wasn’t important.

            “He left me. Us. I don’t know if he’s still alive or dead.”

            “How long?” Jonah gently pressed.

            “Eight years ago. Right after Joey’s first birthday. Eddie worked at Randolph’s Mercantile. He was their head cashier. One evening, he never came home. I called the store, but it was already closed, so I called the sheriff’s department. They went to check and found the car still parked in the parking lot, but Eddie was gone. The store was empty.” She bit her lips, then added, “They said there was also a little over fifteen hundred dollars missing from the safe. After some more investigating, Mr. Randolph learned that approximately two hundred thousand dollars was unaccounted for at the bank.”

            “Money which Mr. Hatch had access to?”

            “Yes.”

            “And you’ve not heard from him since?”

            “No.” She shook her head. “And, trust me, if I had, I wouldn’t take two seconds to turn him over the authorities for what he put me and Joey through.” She took another couple sips of coffee. “I don’t know why he did it. I don’t even know if he acted alone. I just know he betrayed me and his son, and that alone is why… Is why I…”

            “You no longer love him,” Jonah finished for her.

            Clea grabbed a napkin to blot her eyes and sniffed. “Yes. Jonah, you being here is the first time in a very, very long time I’ve felt…I guess the best way to describe it is ‘secure.’ It’s like I can finally get a handle on things and focus on what’s important without having to constantly watch my back.”

            “Like your son.”

            “Yes. Oh, yes. So, I’m asking you to stay, even though I know I can’t stop you if you’re determined to go. No more than I can stop you from blinking out of sight.” She gave him that lopsided grin again.

            Leaning back in his chair, he shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and stared at her for what seemed like eternity. She was about to get up to clear the table when he spoke.

“I will stay on two conditions.”

            A weird thought flashed through her head, and for a second she wondered if one of those conditions might be of a very intimate nature. Silently scolding herself, she inquired, “What are the conditions?”

            “The first one is that I need to arrange for my own quarters. I cannot keep depriving the boy of his own bedroom.”

            “Wh-where would you sleep?”

            Jonah pointed outside. “In the barn. I can build me a small room in the back that would give me ample space to live, and also give us all our individual privacy.”

            Hope fluttered in her chest, like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon. “And the second one?”

            “That I pull my own weight around here. Help with the chores. Help with the farm.” He pointed overhead. “Help with repairing those tiles I noticed were about to slide off the roof.”

            “You can do stuff like that?”

            He gave a bark of laughter. “Madam, if I were to make a list of every job I ever held during my lifetime, it would take you a year to read it. Just let me know what you need done. If I can’t accommodate you, I can find out from someone else how to do it.” Tilting his head, he smiled in that way she longed to see. “What is your decision, Clea? Do you agree to my terms or not?”

            She held a hand out over the table. “It’s a deal.”

            He took it, but instead of shaking it, he placed his other hand over hers and held it there. “You do know that at some point I’m going to have to leave, don’t you?” he gently reminded her.

            Clea nodded. “Yes, I do. But until that has to happen…” Her voice trailed off without finishing the sentence because there was no need.

            At that moment, a ray of sunshine came through the kitchen window to shine across the table and their clasped hands. Happy and relieved, Clea took it as an omen of better days to come.

            However long those may be.

 

TO BE CONTINUED

Linda Website           


Monday, May 12, 2025

HERE BE NEWS for Monday May 12, 2025

Posted by: PG Forte

 




 Monday May 12, 2025 

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




 I died and was resurrected, and I don’t know why. 

My name is Casi Clarity. I was 26 years old when I died in 1969. Then I woke up in the 21st century—whole, sane, and unblemished. And at the same age I was when I died.

What's more, when I came back, I brought a friend with me. His name is Coheed. He's a corporeal spirit, and he is also my protector. Against what, you ask? Well, it seems that ever since my return, I've been chased by ghosts. Demons. Ancient evil. Monsters. You name it.

Why are they after me? Because they want to know my secret. They want to wreak havoc on mankind and bring about our ultimate destruction, and the only way they can accomplish that is by being fleshy beings again. To inhabit as many bodies as they can to cause untold horror. They are determined to discover how I returned from the dead, even if it means trapping me, torturing me, and ultimately killing me again to see if I'm resurrected a second time.

My name is Casi.

The undead call me Mouse.

Coheed calls me Miracle.

Warning! Contains a houseboat, explosions, a rain of ashes, invisibility, sanctuary, a forbidden testament, and a love that was prophesied thousands of years ago.

May Box Set

The Miracle Trilogy
(blurbs and excerpts)

Thursday, May 8, 2025

That Finished First Draft Feeling

Posted by: Nicole Luiken

 Yesterday, I finished a first draft of the cozy fantasy Walking on Moonlight that I've been working on since January. It came out to 94k which is a long first draft for me (65-80 k is more typical), but no where near the monster 140k that Little Mansion in the Jurassic topped out at.

As always, even though there is at least two more drafts and much work to be done, I like to spend a little time basking in the glow of accomplishment. I created another novel out of nothing but my mind which is pretty cool when you think about it. Walking on Moonlight is my 49th novel written (not published, written) which is not nearly as prolific as some, but still a respectable body of work.

As I near the end of a draft, my pace always picks up, my word counts rising from an average of 700 during the middle of the novel to 1200 a day. Yesterday in my frenzy to finish, I wrote 3388 words.

Am I going to take today off? Um, no. While Walking on Moonlight will rest on my hard drive for a few months so that I can revise with fresh eyes, I will be moving my Project B into my Project A slot and continuing with that. A change is as good as a break for me. However tonight we will order out so I don't have to cook and I will read the ebook I bought myself as a treat yesterday.

Accomplishments should always be celebrated.

 

 

Monday, May 5, 2025

HERE BE NEWS for Monday May 5, 2025

Posted by: PG Forte

 




 Monday May 05, 2025 

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



Tuesday April 29, 2025: Linda Mooney treats us to Chapter Four of her Fantasy Romance, THE IMMORTAL.

Saturday, May 3, 2025

Now Available! The MIRACLE Trilogy Box Set by Linda Mooney

Posted by: Linda Mooney

 I died and was resurrected, and I don’t know why. 

My name is Casi Clarity. I was 26 years old when I died in 1969. Then I woke up in the 21st century—whole, sane, and unblemished. And at the same age I was when I died.

What's more, when I came back, I brought a friend with me. His name is Coheed. He's a corporeal spirit, and he is also my protector. Against what, you ask? Well, it seems that ever since my return, I've been chased by ghosts. Demons. Ancient evil. Monsters. You name it.

Why are they after me? Because they want to know my secret. They want to wreak havoc on mankind and bring about our ultimate destruction, and the only way they can accomplish that is by being fleshy beings again. To inhabit as many bodies as they can to cause untold horror. They are determined to discover how I returned from the dead, even if it means trapping me, torturing me, and ultimately killing me again to see if I'm resurrected a second time.

My name is Casi.

The undead call me Mouse.

Coheed calls me Miracle.

Warning! Contains a houseboat, explosions, a rain of ashes, invisibility, sanctuary, a forbidden testament, and a love that was prophesied thousands of years ago.

May Box Set

The Miracle Trilogy
(blurbs and excerpts)

Tuesday, April 29, 2025

THE IMMORTAL, a Fantasy Romance by Linda Mooney - Chapter 4, The Past

Posted by: Linda Mooney

THE IMMORTAL

Chapter 4 - The Past

“Mr. Cobb? Mr. Cobb, are you out here?” Not finding the man in the house, Clea stuck her head out the back kitchen door and called his name, hoping he was close enough to hear her.

A muffled voice answered her. “In the barn, madam!”

She hurried to the building, arms wrapped around herself since she failed to grab her coat before venturing outside. He was slowly emerging from the barn by the time she reached him. His face looked thin and pale, and she knew why.

“Nice going. You’ve over-extended yourself. Now it’ll take you longer to recover,” she gently scolded. Grabbing his arm, she once again threw it over her shoulder and held onto his waist as they made their way back inside the house. She bypassed the kitchen to guide him into the living room where she finally released him, giving him a little shove. Jonah dropped into an easy chair where he sighed in relief.

“Now, here.” She retrieved one of the bowls of soup sitting on the hearth and handed it to him. “Eat.” Straightening, she wagged a forefinger at him. “And you better be here when I return.”

She was relieved to find him exactly where she’d left him when she reentered the room with a few thick slices of bread. She held the plate out to him. He started to reach for a slice but hesitated.

“I’m afraid my hands are too filthy to procure a slice. Allow me to go wash them first.”

“Nah-ah.” She pressed down on one shoulder to prevent him from getting up. “Here.” She took a slice from the plate and laid it over his bowl of soup before taking her own seat in the chair across from him. “I get the impression you’ve eaten a few meals with dirtier hands than you have now.”

The man snorted in amusement. “Guilty as charged. I must have eaten enough dirt and grime in my days to plant an entire crop.”

She watched as he tore off a piece of bread and dunked it into the soup before eating it. As he ate, whitish drops dribbled onto his beard. She was about to point out the napkins she’d brought in with the bowls when he reached over and got one for himself to wipe his mouth.

“This bread is superb, madam. I haven’t had bread this delicious since…” He looked up at her. “Is it sourdough?”

Clea smiled. “It is. I buy it from a little shop in town that makes it. I don’t like the white bread you normally find in grocery stores these days.”

“And the soup. Is this of your making?”

“Yes. I can claim credit for it. It’s my mother’s recipe.”

“You turned out to be as good a cook as her,” Jonah remarked and shoveled a spoonful into his mouth.

Clea continued to watch him. The jury was still out with regards to her believing him or not. Yet the more she listened to him, and studied his movements, and the longer she was around him, the less she was inclined to think he was trying to pull one over on her. Or worse, a possible danger to her and her son. 

She figured this was as good a time as any to get a few things out of the way. “Mr. Cobb, would you be willing to answer a few questions for me?” 

He smiled. “I was wondering when you would get around to asking.”

“You said you’re an immortal. That means you can’t die, right?”

“So far I haven’t.”

He was teasing her. But at the same time, she sensed a truthfulness in him. It was possible he just thought he was immortal because he hadn’t died yet. 

“When were you born?”

He tore another piece of bread from the slice to sop in the soup. “As near as I can estimate, around sixteen twenty.”

She knew her mouth was open as she stared at him. He glanced up to see her expression but didn’t comment on it. 

“Is there any chance I can get a cup of water, please?”

She said the first thing that popped into her head. “Will you still be here when I get back?”

He smiled. “I will try.”

Hurrying into the kitchen, she quickly filled two glasses with water and carried them into the living room. The man was still there.

“Okay, Mr. Cobb…”

“Jonah. Please. I would be grateful if you called me by my Christian name.”

Clea took a mental step back. In spite of his insistence that he was an immortal from the year 1620, there were two undeniable facts she couldn’t refute. He had a very odd accent, as well as a unique speaking pattern. Both of which could easily be explained since he definitely wasn’t a local.

But then there was that disappearing trick. And there was no way she could explain that one away.

“Jonah, do you honestly expect me to believe that you’re hundreds of years old?”

“You may believe what you will,” he answered with a deep sigh. “After all this time, I have learned there is nothing I can do or say that will convince you otherwise.” He tapped his temple. “All I have are my memories that prove to me of my past.”

“What about your disappearing act? How does that work?”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “An act, madam? If only it were so.” When sadness crossed his features, an odd sense of guilt washed through her. 

“I recall vividly the first time it occurred to me,” he continued. He was finished with his meal, and now he faced the fireplace, although she knew he wasn’t seeing it. No, his vision had turned inward. He had returned to the past in every way except physically.

“I was young. Very young. My voice had yet to deepen, and I had no facial hair. I was cold…hungry…and alone. I don’t recall my parents. I don’t know where I was, or how I got there. I recall wandering from one town to another, hiding in barns at night, stealing what I could during the day just to keep myself alive.

“One day, I was in some village. It was market day. Many, many stalls had been set up in the town square, and merchants were hawking everything from food to clothing and weapons. I liked market days. I could tag behind mothers with their children and blend in to where most people never gave me a second look. 

“There was one merchant who was selling hot buns. They smelled…” He closed his eyes, a tiny smile lifting the corners of his mouth. “Heavenly. And I hadn’t eaten in so long. 

“I waited a short distance away until he was distracted, then I ran up, grabbed one of those buns, and turned to get away when a soldier snatched me by the back of my shirt. He tried to throw me on the ground, but I stumbled, and I struck my head on the edge of the cart. I remember the soldier yelling at me, but I can’t recall what he said. My head hurt. Blood trickled down the side of my face. The soldier got angrier and angrier, I guess because I wasn’t doing what he was yelling at me to do. He lost his temper and pulled out his sword, raising it overhead I guess to hit me or cut me with it. I threw up my hands. I was so dizzy. I think I blacked out. But the next time I opened my eyes, I found myself lying on the side of the road, nowhere near the village. I was far from the marketplace, and I had no idea how I had gotten there. It was only later, right before dark, that I came upon that same village I’d been to.” He chuckled. “Fortunately for me, somehow I had kept my grip on my bun. It was the only thing I had to eat that day.

“Since then, I have learned a little more about this strange gift I’ve been given, and how to use my ability. I have also learned that my ability sometimes kicks in when I don’t expect it.” He swiveled his head to look at her. “I can transport myself whenever I want to and wherever I want to go, as long as it is to a place where I have previously been. And when it happens to me involuntarily, I go back to those locations as well. Except I just don’t have any say so as to where.”

He stared down at his hands. “I have lived a thousand lives. I have grown older, but it seems for every year a regular person lives, I age an hour. Perhaps a day. I’m not certain about that. It’s only a guess.”

“What are you doing in Terry County?” Clea asked. “How did you get here?”

“Oh, I have walked countless miles. I have ridden on horses, in the back of wagons, and then in automobiles. I have traveled over endless seas once I overcame my fear of accidentally being transported into the middle of the ocean. I keep going, keep pushing, keep travelling because it is all I have. To go from one new locale to another. I avoid people as much as possible, unless it is absolutely necessary.”

“So you have no home? No job? No…family?” she softly inquired.

“I tried to…many, many years ago. But being sent back to location after location took a toll on that. I sowed my seed, madam. I won’t deny that. But I was never blessed with children, that I’m aware of. In a way…” He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “In a way I guess that is a blessing.”

“Why do you say that?”

When he lifted his gaze to meet hers, she saw the glitter of tears. “Because I could never forgive myself if I discovered my progeny was forced to live with the same affliction I’ve been cursed with.”


TO BE CONTINUED

Monday, April 28, 2025

HERE BE NEWS for Monday April 28, 2025

Posted by: PG Forte

 




 Monday April 28, 2025 

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



Thursday April 24, 2025: PG Forte explores romance writing rules in her post: Don't Kill the Dog.
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