The Shadow Creeps farther

An odd Dedication from an odd fellow, not a small circular rock hard and sweet; candy.

Rather a writer of the fantastical and strange, the uncanny, the awkward and unusual who wishes to dedicate this book to those that told such tales before his fingers moved, grew long and touched the keys.

FMA De Voltaire, M.R. James, Edgar Allen Poe, William Shakespeare, Michael Moorcock, W.B.Yeats, Karen Blixen, Bram Stoker, Mary Shelley, Oscar Wilde and all those who told these tales I read when growing up. The fantasies and new worlds that I took to bed with me to make my life better than it really was. Brian Aldiss, Isaac Asimov, The lens man tales, by EE “Doc” Smith, Stephen King, David Gemmell. Clive Barker and a thousand others that made my sad life worth living. Those sad Saturdays and wondrous Sundays were not made better by others but by these gods of literature and many other’s that I have not mentioned. Too Many and possibly all. I owe my life as it was their created worlds and thoughts that stopped me ending mine.

A lonely teenager in the “Athens of the North” that cannot find a place in the world relies upon the stories in his head when all else is bleak and then tells another tale..