Author: Jeffrey LeBlanc

Horror is in my blood and in my bones! It's what we enjoy and what we live to for. I've taken my experiences and travels throughout Louisiana and remote places around the world to create novels and short stories of horror and the macabre. Many of the stories are original creations to sink your teeth into. But be warned. My characters bite back. Currently we have written four books and have four working drafts of horror novels and short story collections. Many, many more will follow. Titles: **The Devil of Black Bayou **Wings of the Seraph **Wolves, Wings, & Other Things **Shadows...Ghosts of the Moonlight Working Drafts: **Mary Wept (Homage to "The Exorcist", "William Wilson", and "The Shrine") **Lightning Bug **Wolf of Bluff Mountain **The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea Again, welcome to our website! We hope you enjoy!
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A slow-worm spoke from the gallows foot:
“Death is spoils for a crow to loot.
“The winds and the rain they worked their will,
“The kites and the ravens have had their fill,
“But last of all when the chains broke free,
“The fruit of the gallows came to me.
“Men and their works, so swiftly past,
“Come to a feast for the worms at last.
“Here I have gnawed on this marrow good,
“Where now I gnaw on this crumbling wood.
“For men and their works are a feast for me—
“The bones, and the noose, and the gallows tree.”–Robert E. Howard

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In my tortured ears there sounds unceasingly a nightmare whirring and flapping, and a faint, distant baying as of some gigantic hound. It is not dream—it is not, I fear, even madness—for too much has already happened to give me these merciful doubts. St. John is a mangled corpse; I alone know why, and such is my knowledge that I am about to blow out my brains for fear I shall be mangled in the same way. Down unlit and illimitable corridors of eldritch phantasy sweeps the black, shapeless Nemesis that drives me to self-annihilation.–H.P. Lovecraft

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And freezing, the Owl never leaving, still is staring, still is staring
Perched upon Great Pan’s limbs just above my swamp shore;
Perched, twisted head, and stares as the dead to distant Stygian moors,
His Erebus eyes, become gilded fireflies, flickering to flame seething, possibly dreaming,
Whilst leprous moon overhead wakes the forgotten dead in shadows before;
And as I lie waiting my flickering shadow anticipating those ghostly shadows before
Cackles the Owl “Katina” evermore!”–Jeffrey LeBlanc

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#halloween #horror #hwa #horrorpoetry #horrorgram #instahorror #writingcommunity #robertgraves #blackcat #death #ghosts Welcome ….to…. Dweller of the Dark! We are a channel honoring the yellowed and blackened bones of many prominent authors. We will be digging up several obscure, strange, and forgotten authors who influenced many of the great horror, science fiction, and fantasy writers today. […]