Nighttime scene of a landscape with a wooden mine entrance emitting a warm orange glow, set against blue-toned rolling hills under a dark, cloudy sky with a setting or rising sun near the horizon.

Betrayed!
Belittled!
Bedazzled with
a Vengeance!

His ex-lover and mentor
left him for dead.
Now Nat Gig’s staging the
most spectacular revenge
Hell’s ever seen.
Saving the world
is the encore—

The God in the

Dirt

Poster for Paul Glyn's book titled "The God in the Dirt," featuring a stylized silhouette of a man with a wide-brimmed hat and a woman holding a rifle, set against a sunset background with mountains and a border design.

Gothic Horror Western
approx. 80,000 words

Beneath the dust of
Dry Gulch, no soul is clean—
or resting in peace.

Welcome to this tale of
vengeance and mind games.

Nat Gig never belonged anywhere—except center stage. A rhinestone-clad outlaw with a flair for misdirection, he built his legend from style, sabotage, and sheer swagger.
But when he returns to Dry Gulch—a town that no longer welcomes him—he finds something far worse than rejection. Beneath the dust lies a vein of living ore: a sentient mineral that reshapes memory and remakes those who touch it.
With the help of Magda, a saloonkeeper with a fondness for arson, Nat declares war to reclaim the town from the ore’s parasitic grip.
The deeper he digs, the more the mine exposes—memories he buried, truths he rewrote, and the cost of his own myth. Nat Gig would rather die on stage than fade into someone else’s legend.

DON’T DISTURB THE DIRT.

“Things get buried for a reason—
even a god.”
“One hell of a show, if you don’t mind bleeding during the encore.”

order here

A painting of a Western scene featuring a smiling man in a cowboy hat and a woman holding a drink. The man is holding a revolver, and a llama is behind him. The background depicts mountains, a town, and a train tunnel at sunset.

The God in the Dirt is a 80,000-word Gothic Western steeped in Supernatural Horror and dark theatrical folklore—a tale of resisting assimilation and preserving the unruly, fabulous mess of individuality in the face of an ancient, collective force. Shot through with glitter and grit, it explores the cost of sovereignty, and what it means to fight for the right to remain yourself—even when the world begs you to disappear.

The God in the Dirt will appeal to adult readers drawn to the mythic structure and historical dread of Dan Simmons’s The Terror, the stylized grit of Jack Finney’s The Body Snatchers, the lyrical Western mysticism of Anna North’s Outlawed, the frontier survival with moral rot at its core of Bone Tomahawk. With its theatrical wit, cosmic horror undertones, and elegiac flair, it also channels the moral ambiguity of Victor LaValle’s The Ballad of Black Tom. This genre-defying novel blends history and horror into a sharp, poignant tale about transformation, found family, and the fine art of making an exit.