Picking Murphys — Behind the Book

Photos, fragments, and field notes from a family vacation that never becomes a vacation.

Picking Murphys began as a domestic question that turns sharp when you stare at it long enough: what if the thing that destroys a family doesn’t arrive like a storm—what if it arrives like a schedule? A Connecticut household prepares for a simple trip west. Bags get packed. Flights get booked. A new place waits with sunshine and “fresh starts” written all over it. Then something personal surfaces—quiet at first—until the family splits under pressure. The father and son go as planned. The mother and daughter stay behind. The calendar moves forward anyway.

Out in California, life tries to behave normally: new routines, a new school for Robbie, a landscape with old scars—gold country, old tunnels, old hunger. But the story isn’t about sightseeing. It’s about presence. The kind that follows you onto a plane, sits near you without sitting, and waits for you to believe you’re safe again. Later, something else enters the story—an answering light. Not a convenient fix, not a “win,” but an intervention that changes the shape of what’s happening and what it means.

Excerpt — The Time is Now

The Possession of Time

Matthew and his wife wandered the antique show until a woman stopped them cold, her attention fixed on an ancient clock worn smooth by time. She sent Matthew ahead to ask about it while his wife drifted through the aisles, unaware of how deliberately they were being separated. The seller hesitated, shaking her head, unwilling to part with the piece. Something dark pressed in then, soft and persuasive, turning reluctance into need. By the time Matthew realized the woman had changed her mind, he was already being drawn deeper into a trap he hadn’t seen forming.

Excerpt — Soulmates

Daytime Exploration in Darkness

Robbie made a friend quickly at the new school, a quiet girl who walked beside him as if they’d always known each other. It wasn’t long before curiosity pulled them beyond the house, across the hills and into places adults warned about but rarely named. The mine felt like discovery at first, cool and echoing, their laughter swallowed by stone. From the dark, something shifted its attention, drawn not to the boy this time, but to the girl beside him. Whatever had followed Matthew and Robbie now leaned closer, patient, choosing a new way in.

Small town / mountains / gold country image

Excerpt — Murphys Underground

Gold Country Doesn’t Stay Buried

Matthew waited for full dark before entering the mine, the night swallowing the sound of his tools as he chipped at hard rock that glittered with promise. He pushed deeper than he meant to, following the vein until the air changed and the tunnel seemed to narrow behind him. That was when he felt it—space opening where there shouldn’t be any, as if the mine itself had made room for someone else. By going too far, he had given another presence the same invitation, and it stepped closer in the dark, mining him in return.

Excerpt — Robbie’s School

Predators Recognize Each Other

The demon slipped into the wolf like a second skin, its hunger sharpening as it crossed the school grounds in borrowed muscle and bone. Inside, it sensed a rival presence—a teacher whose heart was colder than stone, who watched children not with care but calculation, sending them home to map their parents’ lives for later theft. The predator’s eyes found hers across the room, and in that instant her body betrayed her, fear locking her in place. The demon lingered just long enough to enjoy the recognition, lips curling back to bare borrowed teeth. Mission accomplished, it withdrew, satisfied that one darkness had marked another.

Motel or temporary home interior / settling in image

Excerpt — Costly Chocolate

Main Street Isn’t Harmless

She drifted down Main Street the way children do, guided by curiosity more than direction, the chocolatier’s window pulling her in with its glossy displays and sweet promise. Her parents never noticed when she slipped inside, the bell over the door swallowed by the afternoon noise. Something followed her in, slower, heavier, pressing itself into the shopkeeper’s thoughts until warmth turned to confusion and intention blurred. The OPEN sign flipped without a hand touching it, the lock slid home, and the room felt suddenly smaller. The shopkeeper smiled through the fog and bent closer. “What will it be today,” he asked softly, “what do you like, little girl?”

Night exterior / streetlight / porch / quiet neighborhood image

Excerpt — Hard Rock, Soft Legs

When Quiet Starts Talking

Matthew followed the promise of the vein deeper into the mine, prying loose chunks of hard rock that flashed with gold where his light struck them. The air thickened, pressure closing in, and without warning his body refused to obey him. Something unseen hit him between steps, dropping him hard onto his back in a shallow pool of icy water, breath tearing from his chest. Hands—many of them, bodiless and cold—moved across him as he lay pinned and helpless, panic tangling with disbelief. In that moment, fear, awe, and a terrible intimacy flooded him, and he understood the land had begun to answer back.

Recovered Fragments — Deeper Into the Book

The First Mark

In the hospital, Deirdre arrives in the world under the wrong sign. Her father sees the tiny band around her wrist and reads what no parent should ever see there: DEAD. No nurse reacts. No one corrects it. The room keeps moving as if the word belongs there. He tells himself exhaustion is playing tricks on him, but the detail lodges deep, the kind of omen a family spends years pretending it never noticed.

The Flight

The trip west stops being a trip in the worst possible way. The flight attendant moves wrong, the pressure in the cabin shifts, the door is opened where it should never open, and a body slides forward through the impossible air. What should have been a clean arrival in California becomes rupture, confusion, impact — and the crash delivers them not into safety, but to the same land they were meant to claim. By the time the wreck settles, Murphys no longer feels like a destination. It feels arranged.

Night Mine / The Old Couple

Later, when Ruthie coaxes Robbie out into the dark and toward the mine, the town’s folklore hardens into something stranger. An old couple drives in slowly, deliberately, as if following a call they’ve heard before. Ruthie seems changed, hovering almost beyond herself, while lantern light, old tools, and remembered purpose gather around the hillside. What should be a childish trespass turns mythic and wrong, as if the land has staged a meeting between generations of people who already belong to it in ways the children don’t yet understand.

Three More Disturbances

The book keeps producing wrongness in domestic and travel spaces that should feel safe. Deirdre’s first moment in the world is marked by an unspoken omen. The flight becomes a breach instead of a passage. And by the time children wander toward old mining dark with Ruthie leading and the old couple closing in from elsewhere, the town has shifted from postcard charm into ritual space. The effect is cumulative: Murphys does not merely host the horror. It collaborates with it.

Field Notes

Where the Idea Landed

The engine of Picking Murphys is a family under strain—and a force that doesn’t “attack” so much as it exploits what was already cracked. The horror isn’t only the supernatural; it’s the way real life can split a home into separate realities, then punish everyone for not staying together.

Writing Detail

Presence Over Spectacle

I wrote the entity in this book as proximity and persistence—not a jump-scare machine. It follows. It waits. It shows up in the most mundane transitions: travel, settling in, school registration, quiet evenings. The dread comes from realizing “leaving” didn’t change anything.

Reality vs. Fiction

Murphys, Gold, and the Ground Under It

The landscape and its mining history provide a natural language for the book: extraction, voids, tunnels, and what people bury to survive. The supernatural elements sharpen those ideas into story—but the emotional weight stays human: family, secrecy, fracture, and the cost of pretending everything is fine.

Personal Note

Why This Book Matters

Picking Murphys is about what happens when something targets the softest place in a family—and forces everyone to reveal who they are under pressure. It’s a book about protection, denial, belief, and the moment a person realizes love isn’t always enough unless it becomes action.

Official Press Release

Picking Murphys

FEBRUARY 17, 2016

Author James Summers releases ‘Picking Murphys’

Novel tells story of ancient evil spirit that takes interest in family of four, settle old scores with few old friends

LA FAYETTE TOWNSHIP, Ind. – Author James Summers took a lovely trip to California and became lost in its rich diversity. His knowledge of wine tasting, olive oil tasting and mining became his source of inspiration in writing “Picking Murphys,” (published by Xlibris).

Matthew is a happily married father of two boys who works a lot to keep his family afloat. Susan is his stay at home wife who manages their household and works hard to keep the family happy. Robbie is their oldest son and is currently enjoying sixth grade and some outdoor nature activities. On the opposite end of the United States is Chloe, an entrepreneur and single mother of one lovely daughter named Ruthie. Their lives intertwine when an ancient evil spirit is released and takes an interest in Matthew and Susan, culminating in a very structured game of cat and mouse. Good spirits get involved and follow the evil spirit’s attempt to put an end to it once and for all.

“This is no traditional good versus evil story,” Summers says. “It is about an evil spirit that goes to extremes to ensure that its training is completed ahead of schedule. It has been released upon our world without a mentor, and it’s learning its powers as it goes.”

“Picking Murphys” is all about the good in evil, the evil in good and everything in-between. Summers thrives in the darkness that lies in everyone and focuses exclusively on psychological horror. He paints a subtle mixture of what the mind sees and thinks whether or not it can get away with it.

Book Details

“Picking Murphys”

By James Summers

Hardcover | 6 x 9in | 398 pages | ISBN 9781514458617

Softcover | 6 x 9in | 398 pages | ISBN 9781514458600

E-Book | 398 pages | ISBN 9781514458594

Available at Amazon and Barnes & Noble

About the Author

James Summers

James Summers is an IT professional who writes in his off time on weekends and on camping trips. He is happily married and lives in Southern Indiana. An avid fan of psychological horror, he loves to portray darkness and chaos.

In Picking Murphys, distance isn’t escape—it’s separation. The calendar moves forward. The plane takes off. The town smiles. And the presence arrives like it was invited.

Visual Strip — Picking Murphys World

Conceptual frames from the world of Picking Murphys — airports, small-town streets, foothill shadows, mining scars, and the quiet domestic places where “normal” starts to fail.

The house prepares itself for departure — bags stacked, plans made, routines rehearsed. The parents exchange a look that says everything is ready. Their son eats at the table, unbothered. Somewhere beyond the frame, a door painted with trees waits, and the quiet normal of the moment feels practiced… as if it’s been done before.

The plane lifts into the night sky, Connecticut falling away beneath it. A family in transit, seats unfilled, silence where voices should be. The destination is Murphys, California — but only half the family is making the journey, and whatever’s missing doesn’t stay behind.

The cabin hums with half-filled seats and recycled air. Robbie reads, unaware, while Matthew turns in his seat — not toward the window, but back — as if something impossible has just chosen this moment to make itself known.

Murphys, California — a town that welcomes you with charm and indulgence. Olive tastings, wine flights, handcrafted chocolates, and fragrant spices line Main Street, inviting visitors to slow down and savor. It’s a wonderful place to visit… and a place that remembers everyone who does.

Gold country — rolling hills cut through with forgotten tunnels and old claims. What was taken is long gone, but the land remembers the digging… and the things that were left behind in the dark.

The classroom feels familiar enough — desks, lessons, raised hands — but Robbie sits in a place that isn’t quite his yet. Numbers on the board, time ticking by. Outside, beyond the schoolhouse walls, the land near his new home waits to be explored, and he can already feel it calling him away from his seat.

Late dusk settles over the ranch as the sky burns itself out in color. The house stands quiet, lantern-lit, its porch facing open land — while the trees to one side remain dense and impenetrable. From within that darkness, a pair of yellow eyes watches. The wolf has already arrived.

Temporary rooms — doors that lock, windows that watch back. At night, the darkness gathers, carrying the weight of long-lost souls who never checked out. Sleep comes in fragments here, haunted by ghosts that remember the room better than you do.

The sign is small, almost courteous — a suggestion more than a threat. The mine waits open and quiet, inviting in the way dangerous places often are. People ignore warnings like this every day… right up until the ground decides to explain itself.

Quiet nights settle over the porch — lights on, shadows stretching too far. The house plays its part well, offering the appearance of normal, while the dark beyond the yard waits patiently for its cue.

In daylight, the land offers no warning. The house stands quiet, the trees dense and watchful — and from within them, something steps forward wearing the shape of a wolf. It does not hide because it fears discovery. It hides because fear is what it intends to teach.

From the porch, the land should be empty. Acres of dark hills lie still, the house behind silent — yet a single lantern burns far beyond where anyone should be. Its light doesn’t move. It doesn’t fade. It waits, as if someone has already found their way through the dark.

Picking Murphys — Book Snapshot

Why Read Picking Murphys?

Because it treats family fracture as the doorway and the supernatural as the pressure that forces the truth out. Picking Murphys is psychological horror built on presence, separation, and the slow realization that “leaving town” doesn’t mean you’ve left anything behind.

Description

A family of four in Connecticut prepares for a vacation to Murphys, California. Personal strain surfaces at the worst possible time, splitting the household into two halves: father and son travel as planned, while mother and daughter stay home. Out west, the new life tries to start—new routines, new surroundings, a new school for Robbie—but a presence tracks them as if it knows them, as if it has a reason.

As the story deepens, a second force enters the field—something older, brighter, and unwilling to let the family be taken quietly. What begins as a fracture becomes a confrontation, and the town’s history—the gold, the scars, the hidden spaces—turns into a mirror for what the family is trying not to say out loud.

Teaser

The flight is on time. The town is welcoming. The calendar says “fresh start.” But something has already decided the trip isn’t about rest. It’s about access. It’s about picking the right fault line and prying until the home breaks open.

Murphys File

The Flight: what should have been a simple departure becomes rupture, panic, and a delivery mechanism.
The Property: the house, the porch, the field, the mine, and the growing sense that arrival itself was arranged.
The Old Couple: not saviors exactly, not locals exactly — just the sort of people who seem to know the rules before the family even understands there are rules.
The Town Texture: frog-jumping charm, wine, olive oil, chocolate, mining history — a tourist surface laid over something much older and less interested in hospitality.

Excerpts — Curated Moments

The Split: A “simple vacation” becomes a dividing line, and the family stops moving as one.
The Plane: Travel becomes containment—close air, close seats, and a presence that doesn’t need a ticket.
Murphys: A small town with a bright face and a buried language: tunnels, extraction, and old hunger.
Robbie’s New Start: School routines try to stabilize a life—until routine becomes a door.
Settling In: A new room becomes a test: what you lock out—and what’s already inside.
Nightfall: Quiet stops being neutral, and “normal” starts feeling staged.

Themes & Triggers (Reader Advisory)

Family fracture, separation, and domestic instability
Supernatural oppression / stalking presence (psychological intensity)
Fear, paranoia, and loss of safety in “normal” settings
Child endangerment themes (handled with restraint; not exploitative)
Spiritual conflict (dark vs. protective forces)

Fun Facts

The town’s mining history isn’t decoration—it’s the story’s natural metaphor: extraction, voids, and hidden systems.
The horror is written as “presence first”: it follows the characters through logistics, routines, and transitions.
The book’s power comes from what families don’t say out loud—and what fills the silence when they don’t.

Key Characters

The Father

Protector • Denial Fighter

He tries to keep the world stable through movement: travel, plans, structure, “we’ll be fine.” The story tests how far protection goes when the threat isn’t rational—and when the family is already split.

Robbie

New Kid • Pressure Point

A boy asked to adapt too fast: new town, new school, new rules, new silences. He becomes the story’s emotional center—where innocence meets proximity, and where “normal” is hardest to maintain.

The Mother

Anchor • The One Left Behind

She stays home with the daughter, holding the “other half” of the fracture. Her storyline carries the weight of what the family won’t name—and what the presence is keyed to.

The Daughter

Target • Catalyst

The presence is personal here. The daughter’s connection to it isn’t explained up front for the reader—but it shapes the entire split, and it explains why this family isn’t just unlucky.

Chloe

Single Mother • New Attachment

On the California side of the story, Chloe offers warmth, possibility, and the kind of adult intimacy that makes Matthew think he may have landed somewhere hopeful. That hope is part of what makes the intrusion work.

Ruthie

Guide • Wrong Kind of Wonder

Ruthie moves through the hills, the school day, and the mine paths with a confidence that feels just slightly off. Around Robbie, she becomes a lure, an accomplice, and eventually something stranger — a child close enough to wonder to make danger look like play.

Loose Threads & Survivor Voices

Picking Murphys doesn’t close every door on purpose. Some questions are left breathing because that’s how fear works: it doesn’t finish cleanly—it lingers. If you walk away from the book feeling like something followed you out, that’s intentional.

Have thoughts, questions, or lingering “why did you do that?” reactions? Find me on social media and tell me what moment stayed with you the longest — no spoilers in public threads, please.