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| General Information......
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| First of all, this is an emporium of imagination. Our writers |
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| specialize in dark fantasy & horror. What we offer here is a unique |
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| gift idea, whether for yourself or someone else. |
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| Find yourself inside a ghost story; a tale of knights and magic; trapped |
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| in a grave or a gothic tavern. The setting, main character and nightmares |
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| can all be based on the details you provide. Tell us your name, city, favorite haunts, |
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| favorite books, writers or films, even reoccuring dreams and fears. Our |
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| writers will weave as much as possible into the story. |
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| Want to give a personalized horror tale as a gift? Provide the |
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| info or simply order a gift certificate. |
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| Each tale of 3-4 pages is $28.95. A black & white illustration may be |
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| added for $10.00. If you would like our writers to create a longer |
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| story based on your information, please email us at: |
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| Shadowcraft Tales is the brainchild of Morgan Griffith, whose dark
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| fiction and poetry has seen publication in such magazines as Grue; |
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| Eldritch Tales; Fantasy Macabre; The Horror Show; Undinal |
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| Songs; Supernatural Poetry; Etchings & Odysseys; 2 AM and |
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| many others. You can request Morgan Griffith or the illustrious, demented |
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| Candlewraith to author your tale. We hope to add writers to the fold. |
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| Please allow 2 weeks for the story to be written, and longer if you |
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| are requesting illustrations. Tales will be mailed in a black folder, |
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| printed on our Shadowcraft Tales stationary. If you have any |
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| further questions please email arkanthis, who will be happy to speak |
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| with you and is a long-time fan of classic horror/fantasy fiction. |
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| Eric slid the book from its shelf. Dust motes fell down on his face |
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| like soft rain. As he turned the spine toward him he was immediately |
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| overwhelmed by a radiating sense of evil. He had the distinct impression |
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| that its previous owner must have been unholy, that the tome had soaked |
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| up a darkness of soul simply by the creature laying vile hands upon it. |
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| He could not put it back on the shelf fast enough and felt his sanity start |
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| to slip away. Wandering the aisles aimlessly, attempting to slough off |
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| the intruding presence, he found himself once again in the shadowy |
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| aisle. He had to know if the occurance was real, or nothing more than |
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| his own twisted imagination. Would it try to possess him again? As he |
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| stepped forward he felt a lump of something beneath his shoe. With the |
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| small light on his keychain he searched the dirty floorboards, following |
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| the snail-like trail of blood. When he focused upon it he reeled, grasping |
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| at the shelves for support. As he wrapped his bleeding hand in his shirt |
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| the book flew at him, not as a hard object but as if it had taken on a fey |
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| life, with warm, membranous wings and leathern skin. Its pages were |
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| the sound of dry scrolls, whispering to him. He found the book in his |
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| good hand and walked toward the register.... |
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