fantasy

“The Gray Kings” Excerpt: Lily

M. Walsh Graylands , , , , ,

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….

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.

Continue reading →

“Ones & Zeroes” Excerpt

M. Walsh Short Stories , , ,

Here’s a brief snippet from one of the stories featured in Ones & Zeroes,
“The Mouse & the Dragon”

The knight charged forth, shield up and spear ready. His armor glistened despite the dreary overcast sky like a chrome beacon amidst his hellish surroundings. The horse’s neigh was loud and triumphant as the clopping of its hooves echoed on the scorched cobblestone. The knight’s banner, an orange lion against a black background, billowed in the wind.

He would’ve been a majestic sight to behold had Hildy not seen it already or known what was coming. Continue reading →

“Ones & Zeroes: A Short Story Collection” Now Available

M. Walsh Short Stories , , , , , , , ,

A collection of my short stories is now up for sale on Amazon

kindle coverLook behind the curtain for 14 tales of horror, action, humor, and fantasy…

A babysitter contends with not just an intruder lurking outside, but her own mind…A drug addict saves the world from an alien invasion…In a sleepy town, an abandoned sewage treatment plant houses a sinister force…Man and insect clash in the middle of the night…Mercenaries collide during the sacrifice of a princess…A damsel in distress tries to escape her own story…

Vampires, dragons, zombies, giant spiders and more can be found in this collection of stories from author M. Walsh.

Only $0.99 on Kindle

also available in paperback

“Collision”

M. Walsh Short Stories ,

This is another of my early works about a pile-up of protagonists with varying goals.
It’s a fantasy story—featuring an Elf, no less—and in a lot of ways was a precursor to Graylands. So readers should recognize certain characters and concepts that wound up getting used and incorporated in my books.

Donovan Moore was a man with an intangible quality about him. He was tall and thin, with shining white hair—but not elderly. There was great strength in his lanky frame and fearful power behind his eyes. As High Cleric of the Disciples of Moros, he was rarely seen in person—often delegating orders to subordinates or lower Clerics—but when he made his presence known, he had a talent for shrinking the will of even the strongest of those around him.

He sat in his lavish armchair, staring at the dagger in his hand, with a content and sly smirk on his narrow face. The handle of the dagger was pure silver, crafted into the shape of a horned serpent. The blade was dull gray, but pulsed with a faint red glow—enchanted for a divine purpose. As Moore listened to the crashing waves outside the tower window, he felt a surge of anticipation flow through his blood.

It wouldn’t be long now.

“Cleric Moore,” said one of his followers, entering the chamber. “The Great Tail is visible and will be before the moon shortly.”

“And the Princess?”

“Still unconscious.”

“Wake her and get her ready,” he said, putting on his ceremonial garb. “Tell the guards to remain on high alert.”

The subordinate bowed and left as Moore walked to the window, closing his gold and maroon robes. The last trace of sun disappeared over the horizon, and high above, a fat, yellow moon shined like a glowing eye. In the distance, the comet known as the Great Tail approached—soon to pass the moon, an event that only occurred every thousand years.

Looking at the comet, he gripped the dagger tight. When the Great Tail eclipsed the moon, its blade would pierce Princess Anna’s heart, and with the sacrifice of royal blood, Moros, the Final Dragon, would rise again and cleanse the world in his mighty fire. And from the ashes, the Disciples—led by High Cleric Moore of course—would build a new, perfect society.

With a satisfied smile, he set to make the final preparations. The presence of the Great Tail lit the night to a deep, red hue like early evening and made the ocean like blood. Despite the violent waves, there was an expectant hush like before a great storm.

Taking one last look at the approaching comet, Moore deemed it a fitting atmosphere to herald the coming of a god. Continue reading →

Commentary: Krutch Leeroy

M. Walsh Graylands , , ,

“Oh, crumbs.“

Once, Krutch Leeroy was nobody.

He was born and raised in Elmlocke, a small country in the Western Empire of the Realm, and lived an uneventful life of relative ease. His father, Krutch Sr., was a carpenter by trade and a rugged man who enjoyed the outdoors. His mother, Mari, was a respected teacher, and his older brother, Carson, was a strong and athletic young man, popular among the townsfolk.

Young Krutch, on the other hand, had little to claim to his name. He preferred to keep to himself, favoring the comfort of indoors as opposed to outside. If he did go out, he stayed in town or the nearby city—having no interest in the wilderness. Unlike his father and brother, he was not particularly strong, athletic, or physically active. Although educated thanks to his mother, his wits were not sharp or very quick.

Aside from a talent for drawing, it could be said there was nothing worth noting about the young Krutch Leeroy Jr. He was loved by his family, and no one would say they didn’t like him, but the truth was, Krutch was regarded as an unexceptional and forgettable individual. Continue reading →