Ghost Town by James R Gregory (EXCERPT)

Hello, readers! Today we have a charming excerpt for you from a historical novel. While James R Gregory’s Ghost Town is billed as a psychological thriller, at its heart, it’s a story about leadership, love and connection, as ambition clashes with isolation to potentially devastating result.

In the late 1800s, the small town of Sulphur Creek is experiencing a coal mining boom. Sammy Murphy was born into solitude, and is more familiar with shadowy tunnels than open streets, and with hiding secrets than with making friends. But as he begins to engage with the inescapable pulse of industry, he searches for the kind of meaningful connection all people desire.

Barry Bacon is the kind of ambitious industrialist who considers Andrew Carnegie a peer, however tenuously that belief is rooted in reality. His plans for the future stretch far beyond Sulfur Creek, but will his arrogance prove his downfall?

As Sammy falls in love and finds an unexpected awakening, Barry must fight to save his empire from collapse. Both men learn important lessons about the kinds of truth that transcend time, against the backdrop of the United States of America’s industrial ascent. Based on historical events like the Johnstown flood, this book serves as a reminder of the human cost of unchecked ambition.

Read on for a perhaps surprisingly gallant look at Sammy’s courtship of the woman he loves:

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This excerpt is from Dr. James R. Gregory’s new novel, “Ghost Town.” Reprinted with permission of the author.

Chapter Six

The fact that Birdie and Kevin were attracted to each other didn’t mean Sammy was about to step aside. Sammy had no intention of letting Kevin cut in on the woman of his dreams. When Sammy stopped by the Crystal Saloon one afternoon and saw Birdie sitting alone at the bar, it was an opportunity for him to capture her attention. He did so by doing what the male of any species would do since the beginning of time—preen and plot, finally getting her interest by telling her things he probably shouldn’t.

Sammy slid onto the stool next to Birdie, “Ya haven’t seen me much in da evenings around town, have ya?” he asked.

Birdie tried to answer without showing interest as she turned slightly away. “I don’t recall looking for ya.”

Sammy leaned in toward Birdie. “Well, if ya been wondering what I’ve been up to, I now have my own house up in the mountains near the headwaters of Crystal Creek.”

That caught Birdie’s attention. She turned toward Sammy and raised her eyebrows, “Ya don’t say.”

“I’d like to show ya sometime if ya don’t believe me,” Sammy continued. “Would you like to see it?”

Birdie responded without committing, “How far is it?”

Now Sammy tried to close the deal. “It’s a little more than a mile up the mountain. It’ll be a lovely walk through the woods.”

O’Connor noticed the two having a conversation and placed an arm on the bar as if trying to separate Sammy and Birdie. “Good evening, Sammy. What’ll you be having to drink?”

“I’ll have a whiskey.” Sammy slapped a silver coin on the bar. Sammy had been rehearsing ordering a whiskey all afternoon and he pulled it off effectively.

“Sammy here’s been telling me he built a mansion on the mountaintop,” Birdie said, sensing O’Connor’s unease.

“Is that so?” O’Connor responded. “That must be where you disappear every night.”

Sammy became defensive. “Well, it’s no mansion; I can tell ya dat much, but yes, I’ve been living up dere for a couple of weeks.”

Birdie flashed her big blue eyes at O’Connor. “He invited me up to visit his mansion.”

Kevin raised one eyebrow and looked sternly at both. “Is that so?”

“Yer both, more dan welcome to visit,” Sammy said.

O’Connor, feeling manipulated, laughed, “No thanks. I have plenty to keep me busy right here. You kids have a splendid time,” O’Connor said condescendingly, trying to show nonchalance. “Mind the weather. It looks like a thunderstorm is building. Don’t forget to write.”

“We will indeed .” Birdie said as she stood to leave, miffed at O’Connor’s casual attitude. “Let’s go, Sammy.”

Sammy took his whiskey shot in one gulp, which nearly caused him to choke. He put the shot glass back on the bar and gave O’Connor a salute of triumph as he held out his arm for Birdie.

And off they went.

The trek was challenging enough in work boots but nearly impossible in Birdie’s dress shoes. Sammy sensed the momentous thunderstorm building and hoped they would make it to the cabin and back before it struck.

For the first mile, Birdie didn’t say anything. She just followed Sammy and stewed on O’Connor’s nonchalant attitude toward her. The more she thought about it, the angrier she got, and that kept her mind off her feet. But then she asked how much further, and when Sammy replied, “We’re almost dere.” Sammy noticed that it dissipated her anger.

The sky had become a dark greenish-gray color that Sammy had never seen before. Lightening startled them as it splashed across the sky, followed by a simultaneous crack and thunder that rolled, echoing through the valley below.

“We best hurry,” Sammy said. “We’re in fer a gulley washer.” He reached for her hand, which she took, and they started running. They could finally see the cabin in the distance just as the first big drops of rain started, and then a torrent from a cloudburst descended upon them.

By the time they reached the cabin, the rain had soaked their skin. Sammy opened the door, and Birdie rushed in, trying to adjust her eyes to the darkness. Sammy lit an oil lamp, and she could finally see the inside of his modest cabin.

“You don’t have windows?” she asked.

For the first time, Sammy was ashamed of his humble home. “No, I have pushouts, like most of the town’s homes.” He then started the fire in the pot-belly stove, quickly warming the interior.

“I need to dry my dress and garments,” Birdie said, “I’m completely soaked and cold.”

“I’ve got some things ya can wear,” Sammy croaked.

“Not your mining clothes, I hope.” She chuckled.

They both laughed. Sammy gave her his best shirt. As she undressed, Sammy pretended to look away while he busied himself with putting up a clothesline across the room. He was pleased that she wasn’t shy about her nudity, but he tried not to give or get the wrong idea. Or, to give her the impression that he was desperately desperate to experience a woman.

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From Ghost Town by James R Gregory. Copyright © 2026 by the author and reprinted by permission.

Ghost Town by James R Gregory was published today January 13 2026 and is available from all good booksellers, including