Finally!
At long last, the finish line is in sight. The third volume in the Graylands saga, THE GRAY KINGS, is coming soon!

As we approach its release, I’ll be posting previews and other updates.
Let’s start with a returning character, the reluctant demon Lily Blackthorn, as she hunts under less-than ideal conditions….

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The sign in front read: MAUDE’S STOPOVER.

It stood alone on the side of the road—a simple, one-story structure of brick and wood with an arched roof. Smoke floated from the stone chimney in the center, almost invisible in the storm. Behind it was an open field that had become an ocean of snowy dunes leading to denuded trees. The road before it curved down the hill leading to Abbey, which twinkled through the haze like stars beyond the clouds.

Inside, Maude—a middle-aged and heavyset woman with bushy hair—busied herself ensuring her patrons were warm and comfortable. The way-station wasn’t a tavern, yet it offered food and drinks. It wasn’t a shop, but there were supplies for sale. Not an inn, but spare cots were available for rest. Given how bad the blizzard had gotten, and with Abbey still a mile or so away, her Stopover stood as a welcome shelter from the storm.

The demon sat on the wooden fence outside, like a crow on its perch, and watched the way-station with glowing red eyes. Snow swirled around her in the droning wind, though the occasional gust became a whining howl that made her coat billow like a cloak. A veil of frost formed over her ash-gray hair, and with every breath, a cloud of steam wafted from her mouth. Despite her outwardly human form, the cold didn’t affect the demon. She was in her element.

She was hunting.

Lily Blackthorn knew her prey was inside—a man named Henry Castle. She first came across him further north. He was handsome in his late thirties with blonde hair, fair skin, and an elegant accent that suggested he wasn’t a native of Graylands. He carried a vague reputation as a doctor of some sort, but his piercing eyes had something cold hidden behind them. Something familiar that called out to her.

She stirred when she sensed his movement. Peering at the windows, she spotted him leave the bar and head to the back corridor that led to the way-station’s privy. Lily made her way along the outer wall—trudging through a snow drift that reached her knees—and focused. This was not ideal.

Under ordinary circumstances, she might simply go in and seduce him. It wouldn’t be hard. Being half-succubus, she had charms that made her alluring to others. But thanks to the blizzard, no one in their right mind would go outside if they didn’t have to. If she went in and convinced him to leave, the other patrons would ask questions, and Lily didn’t want to draw attention while she hunted.

Had he rented a room in town, she would’ve waited until everyone was asleep. But Maude’s Stopover wasn’t an inn. She’d been staking the place out for hours, waiting for an opportunity to lure him outside without anyone noticing, and it seemed this would be her only chance. Though she had no fear of the elements, she also had no desire to wait in the snow all night either.

She held her palm against the wooden wall and tapped into the Black—the part of her that was a demon and predator. Her senses came alive, and the dark and cold embraced her body like a shroud. The sound of wind melted away, and the blacks and grays around her became vibrant in a way no natural being could understand. There was a macabre beauty to it, and she sometimes wondered if humans ever realized how many subtle variations can be found in the shadows.

She sensed Castle on the other side. There was irritation and boredom, as expected, but she also detected the faintest hint of lust, which was good. She would need that. Probably most important was how drunk he was.

“… Henryyyyy …” she cooed. “… Henryyyy …”

Most people, when they hear a strange noise or someone whispering their name, tend to assume they’d only imagined it. She let him sit with his confusion for a moment and focused her succubus charms into the way-station’s bathroom. Eye contact would’ve been better, but she had to make do.

“Henryyyy …” she repeated, louder and trying to match her voice with the tempo of the wind. “Henry … I need you …”

She sensed his blood quicken and smirked when she heard him respond, although she couldn’t make out what was said through the wall. Most likely asking who was there. As sickening as her need to feed was, Lily could never deny that a part of her relished the hunt.

She took another breath. What came next required delicacy. She needed him to head for the backdoor next to the bathroom, but if she overstepped or made the wrong move, he could just as easily go to the other patrons.

Luckily, Henry Castle was an inquiring man. She learned that about him as she followed him to Abbey. If the right bait or enticing target was placed before him, he would seek it himself.

“Henry,” she said as she made her way to the door. “Henry, please … I’m cold. I need you …”

She tapped her fingers against the paneling, mimicking a cat seeking shelter, and felt his presence approach. He was curious. If she was right, he stood just outside the bathroom and was debating whether to investigate or ignore it. She wondered if he knew of old fables that warned one should never answer a strange voice calling from the darkness.

“Henry, please,” she said with a final push of her glamour and adding a slight quiver to her voice. “Please, save me …”

She heard the door click and backed away as it pushed open. Castle only managed a crack due to the snow on the ground, which pleased her. Open too wide, the draft would attract attention. He stepped out, holding his coat closed, and squinted to see in the dark. The snow reached his ankles and crunched beneath his feet. She waited just long enough for him to think he’d imagined it before stepping forward.

“Hello.”

She startled him. She could only imagine how surreal it must be to see a figure emerge from the shadows, during a blizzard no less. He blinked at her, as if confirming to himself he really saw her.

“What…?” he asked. “Who are you? What are you doing out here?”

“I got lost in the storm.”

She offered an innocent but alluring smile and brushed some hair behind her ear. Her overcoat was open, allowing a view of her figure. Lily wore a plain black shirt and matching torn slacks that flattered her well. Her skin was as pale and smooth as milk, and Castle’s eyes mapped her body.

“Will you keep me warm?” she cooed. “Please?”

His eyebrow cocked, and a slight smile formed. She could’ve taken him right there but wanted more distance from the way-station. When he approached, she took a step back.

“We can …” he said. “We should go inside. It’s warm in here.”

A gust blew by, making Lily frown. Ideally, she would lure him into the field. Maybe suggest taking a walk in the moonlight. But it was hard to be seductive in the middle of a snowstorm. She had charms and glamour, but Castle would have to be particularly dumb or far more drunk to stray from shelter in this weather no matter how much he desired her.

“Come with me,” he said, holding out his hand. “We can sit by the fire.”

“Wait,” she said and took another step back. “I’m afraid. What kind of people are in there?”

“You have nothing to worry about. I’ll protect you.”

Despite the wind, she caught his tone. His smile was hungry and eyes predatory. No, he wouldn’t wander off, but she could string him along just a bit more.

“Do you promise?” she asked, taking one more step back.

“You have nothing to fear, my lady,” he answered, following.

She took his hand, and he pulled her close to kiss her. His hand went down her back and cupped her buttocks before going up to her breasts. She’d managed to get him ten feet from the Stopover. The backdoor was still ajar, and someone would surely notice the draft soon.

Not ideal, she considered, but as good as she was going to get.

“I know.”

He didn’t have time to ponder her meaning before she gripped his neck and hurled him into the snow. With a hiss, her eyes burned red and skin faded to an unnatural gray. Fangs grew from her mouth, and just as he tried to scream, she clamped onto his lips.

The familiar, sickening rush swept through her, and she felt such warmth that the blizzard actually soothed her flesh. He offered a meager struggle as she drained his life away, until there was nothing left of Henry Castle but a dried up, skeletal husk.

Unfortunately for him, he never did pay much heed to those campfire stories. People like him believed they were the predators of the world, but he should’ve known dark things lurk in the storm.

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No exact release date just yet, as I’m waiting on the cover and other variables beyond my control, but I am hoping to have The Gray Kings up for sale this summer (fingers crossed).
Expect more excerpts in the meantime, and I hope you’ll give it a look when it comes out.

And until then, if you haven’t already, check out the previous Graylands entries:

Links for e-book and paperback editions HERE

Also available on itch.io HERE

Graylands and The Gray Kings ©2026 by M. Walsh