Yep … still here.

Been a while since my last update obviously.
I suppose I’ll start off by asserting that, no, Graylands hasn’t been forgotten. I am still working on The Gray Kings and determined to see it through. Thing is although I continue to chip away at it, there really hasn’t been any stimulating or noteworthy updates. I’ve just been working on it. I’ll admit that even without the full-time job that ate up a good deal of my focus—among other things—this book has proven to be a lot more work than either of the previous two.

When I first started The Gray Kings, I approached the beginning of the story as a slow burn. My protagonists would be in their corners, doing their things, and gradually, their plots would overlap and things would come together as the story progressed.

However, as I finished the first draft and began taking notes for the second, I realized that each character has a very clear, definite point where their individual arc truly commences. Everything before those respective points turned out to just be preamble and set-up. And I found some of those set-ups took too long to get going.
Simply put: the slow burn didn’t work.

On the one hand, great, that means I can cut a lot of fluff and trim things down. Get straight to the action. However, this also meant drastically re-thinking what is essentially the first act of the book. So, a lot of pacing work and structural shuffling … not to mention plenty of darlings killed.
Let me put it this way: I’ve posted a excerpt or two of what I thought would be the opening chapters and hinted at certain plot developments. Well, you can forget all that. Almost all of it has been cut or completely changed.

I think—and hope—I’ve got story going the way it needs, and hopefully readers will enjoy it when it’s finally complete. Although, despite my efforts, it’s looking like it will still be a very long book, which is another reason this has taken so long.
But this leads to the good news: I can say that I am currently on what I hope will be the final draft. I’m almost halfway through, and I hope once this is done, it’ll just be touch-ups and minor revisions from then on. I can’t say when I think it’ll be finished, so I won’t.

Now that I’ve ironed out the plot and structure, I’m at the point where I need to make the prose actually good and refined. This means taking my time on what is, again, looking like a pretty large book. Some days I get a lot done. Others, I’m staring at the screen searching for what words I want to use.

But it’s coming along, and hopefully The Gray Kings with be done sooner rather than later.

On that note, to demonstrate that I have indeed been working, I am going to leave a little something. Not a full chapter or excerpt, but lines and snippets chosen at random and without context to give a taste of what’s to come ….

Despite her outwardly human form, the cold didn’t affect the demon as it would them. She was in her element. She was hunting.

This was not ideal. Aside from the awkwardness of trying to ensnare the man while he relieved himself, her glamour worked better when the prey could see her.

Every once in a while, she did come across someone who truly deserved it. Men or women evil to their core in ways that gave even a demon such as her pause. She never took pleasure or pride in feeding, but on those rare occasions, it came easier.

Coupled with her sunken eyes, she had a sickly, almost corpse-like complexion that suited her mood.

Destriers were bred for war, and though Katrina didn’t know what his life was before she found him, the scars that mapped his body suggested a violent story.

The Bear, as it was called, was the main fortress of the base. Apparently, it had been a keep from ancient times that the Sentry Elite took as their own. It earned its nickname because it looked like an armored bear—fat, strong, and unmovable.

“Let’s see … Krutchington Barnabas Leeroy, Jr. Place of birth unknown, date unknown. Alleged to—”
“I’m from Elmlocke.”
The Major frowned at the interruption, while Escudo seemed surprised he’d reveal something about himself so freely.
“It’s not a secret,” he said. “Was it was supposed to be?”

“I want Leeroy to face a proper trial before an audience witnesses his death. I’ve waited a long time to see this man brought to justice, and I intend to see it to the letter.”

Had she known everyone inside would be dead by the end of the storm, Lily would’ve made more of an effort to leave.

His father once said every man should have a sword, but pray he never needs it.

“No one’s too old for hot cocoa.”

“Something I’ve come to learn about you Synclaires. It comes in different degrees, but you’re all equally stubborn.”

As he watched the life drain from her eyes, he remembered that first thief he killed. It had only been that summer, yet felt like ages ago …

“That’s very threatening from a distance. I’ll surely be kept awake tonight remembering your threats … shouted as you fled with your tails tucked between your legs.”

“Someone shoulda told you about Graylands winters: they bite!”

“Take your victories where can get them, sir. The rest is in the gods’ hands.”
Lock took another swig of his ale but found little comfort in that assurance. “No offense,” he said. “But that sounds like a nice way of saying there’s nothing to be done.”
“Because it is.”

“But you’re alive, and you seem to be … in good health.”
Katrina noted the slight pause but chose not to be offended by it.

“So, you’re a mercenary?”
She almost denied it but hesitated. “Um, kind of?”
“You don’t know?”
“I mean … I wasn’t hired. I didn’t offer myself as a mercenary. I just … I scared off the Raven jackasses and then asked to be paid.” She paused. “Okay, I guess I am sort of a mercenary.”

“Ten years. Vigor fell ten years ago, and no one’s seen or heard from Katrina Lamont ever since. Then one day, you just decide to show up?”

“You watch everything you fought and hoped for choke to death on their own blood then tell me how fucking heroic you feel after!”

They, especially the Children of Ikari, were most adept at demon hunting and eradication of the Black. In older times, they used to burn captured demons alive. They probably still did in certain parts of the world.

It made her feel low pretending she was abused by non-existent parents. But sometimes the best way to divert people’s attention was the make them feel as awkward and uncomfortable as possible.

“Please don’t smoke.”
She frowned and shot him a cold glare. Though she said nothing, the outrage was evident on her face. Royce’s club saw booze, prostitution, fights, and backward dealings every night. She knew for a fact that assassinations had been arranged under his roof. And, yes, some people even dared to smoke downstairs.
“I don’t care for it. Feel free to kill yourself anywhere else, but in my office—around me—no.”

“Sorry to disillusion you,” she said. “But even if I wasn’t the real Katrina Lamont, she was never going to a convent even on her best day.”

“From my experience, it’s the people who kill for free that you have to worry about.”

“Say, Escudo,” he said. “Since you’re a proper Mage, what do you know about curses?”
“You mean aside from the four-letter variety?”
“I’m already well versed in those. I mean the magic kind.”

“I am not taking my clothes off so you can look at the scar on my back!”

Thoughts of sneaking around Lake Just unnoticed instantly disappeared and were replaced with the question of whether she would be able to strangle the Dinah to death before either guard stopped her.

“Give me a little credit, Doc. This girl’s been half-dead since I found her, and she has a hole in her face. I’m not that desperate.”

“Every decade or so, a new warlord rises with an army to unite Graylands under one banner. Most die out pretty quick, but the ones that last … sooner or later, another army or two rises to oppose them. And when that happens …”

She then imagined coming across the Major’s dead body and immediately felt guilty about the smirk it inspired.

“Way I heard it,” he said. “Krutch Leeroy is supposed to be seven feet tall and three hundred pounds of muscle. They also say he has a tattoo of a demon on his face.”
“Wouldn’t I be very easy to find if I looked like that?”

“You think you’re real smart, don’t you, Leeroy?”
“More than I should be,” he replied. “Not as much as I’d like.”

Krutch never believed luck was ever on his side, but at this point, he saw no purpose in being cautious.
It’s not like they can execute me twice.

“You walked through a blizzard to save a small dog you found in a field,” he said. “You’ve seen fit to warn me of danger even though it raises more questions about you. Forgive me, Lily, but those aren’t the actions of a drifter merely trying to keep her head down.”

The blade clipped her spine, sending a sharp bolt of pain through her, and her legs tingled. It was a good strike. Precise. If the wound itself didn’t kill her, it should of at least paralyzed her. He even twisted the knife, the bastard.

“It’s a sad irony. This country probably needs the Sentry Elite more than any other, but most of the higher ups think this place is a hole not worth devoting the manpower.”

But at the moment, without a single word spoken, Krutch knew he would regret meeting Katrina Lamont again.

“All I’m saying, Synclaire, is you got something riding you. I do, too. I won’t deny it. Just make sure it doesn’t ride you off a cliff.”

Lock exhaled and saw his breath waft into the open air like he’d just been smoking. Despite the cold, his current exertion warmed his blood. Digging graves took much effort.

“Hopefully by that point we can all just be Graylanders period.” He let out a sardonic chuckle. “I’m sure that’ll endear us to folk from the Two Empires even more. Country of mongrels.”

“The thing you’ll realize in this country is more than a few territories are run like private kingdoms. There might be a Magistrate who runs the day-to-day, but you’ll find plenty of men and women giving themselves cute little titles. Devon has its Baron. The man who controls Channel calls himself Duke. Canton and Garland have Lords. I’m pretty sure there’s even a Kaiser on the eastern coast.”

She almost spoke, but the absurdity of it hit her. Was this man really confirming whether she dyed her hair or not?

In spite of everything, even now no one wanted to admit Cassie was truly dead. But Lock knew it was better to believe it. Because the alternative … that she was alive and gods’ knew where … was too ugly and painful to imagine.

She stopped short upon seeing the man who exited the chamber. He was a tall, lanky figure wearing an apron or smock of some sort. The hair beneath his cap was silver like a grandfather, and his wrinkled face met hers with confusion and surprise.
It took her a moment to realize his apron was dripping with blood.

“What exactly am I supposed to do, Celeste? Fight an entire by myself? March up to the front line, give a grand speech, and hope everyone rallies behind me? It doesn’t work like that. It never did.”

A stinging haze of red flashed across her vision. On reflex, she took his thumb and bent all the way back, breaking it with a dull crunch.

“Proof?” she asked. “Like a card? A badge? I’m a bounty hunter. We tend to be unaffiliated.”

“What we have here is a stranger, who claims to be a woman long thought dead, traveling with a known fugitive and is oddly resistant to the notion of handing him over to the proper authorities. Tell me, how would you interpret such a scene?”

Without warning, she thrust her forehead into the center of his face. His nose burst like a crushed tomato, and he staggered backward before falling into the snow on the ground.

Her life was not some story, and carrying the weight of her legend had nearly killed her. She started to laugh. It started as a sardonic chuckle, but soon turned to a nasty cackle. There was no mirth or joy in her laughter—only venomous hatred.

“Well, Mister … Synclaire, was it? Although you certainly regard yourself as worthy of the General’s time, you must realize your standards do not apply to everyone else. I hasten to add the General has many enemies who would gladly say and do anything to meet him in order to attempt some ill-conceived revenge. Naturally, we must guard against such reprobates. Will that be all?”

“Princess Katrina,” Celeste said. “I really feel I must—”
“Shut the hell up? I agree. Do that.”

“Ghosts have rules,” she replied. “Just don’t wander off and don’t antagonize any spirits you do happen to come across. We’ll be fine.”

Lily didn’t know if demons had actual bile in her stomachs, but this was probably close. Dry heaving was a new experience she would’ve been content to never know.

“My family’s lived in this city since its beginning.”
“I guess that would make you an institution.”
“Fancy word, fancy man. But okay … I guess I’m that, whatever that is.”

“Above all, Princess, remember you escaped the grave Jagger Ryggs made for you. Be sure it’s to find a new life and not merely a better death.”

“If you people wanted to be civil,” she said. “You shouldn’t have drugged me the other night. Or was it poison?”

She stood at the center of the stone bridge as the children—nine boys and three girls—closed in on her with blank, emotionless faces. The daggers they carried gleamed in the sunlight like targets locked onto her.

A slight smirk threatened to crack on her lips. He suspected that was as close to demonstrating humor as she was capable.

“We live in a world of warriors. Myths and legends are built around people who are skilled in death. Most folks who have that itch in them join an army or the Sentry Elite. Some just grab a sword or battle-axe and head off into the wild, hacking away and living their dream.”

“We’re in Graylands, Leeroy. What isn’t haunted here?”

That’ll be all for now. In the meantime, I’ll keep at it, and hopefully we’ll see The Gray Kings finished and up for sale in good time. Thanks for waiting, and hopefully (again) it’ll be worth it.

And of course, I have to include the obligatory links for the books that are out if you haven’t given them a look:

You can find the first two volumes of Graylands … The Ghost Princess and The Jinxed Pirate … on Amazon; available in paperback and Kindle formats.

And my short story collection … Ones & Zeroes … is also available on Amazon in paperback and Kindle.

Cheers!

Graylands © 2024