I am what I profess to be – a writer of fiction. Since earliest childhood I have been enthralled by the cryptic fascination of the unknown, the nameless fears, the grotesque dreams that haunt our minds. In literature I have walked the midnight cobblestones with Edgar Allan Poe, crept the shadows with Stephen King, and combed the realms of horrific stars with H.P. Lovecraft. My inner life soon became a ghoulish feast of eerie, tantalizing horrors. My outer being, my life was comparatively dull. As time went on I found myself drifting more and more into a unproductive recluse; a tranquil existence amidst a world of books and monsters.