Author: Jeffrey LeBlanc (DWELLER OF THE DARK)

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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In a few minutes I shall have to call the police, but I know that they will not believe me. –THE OTHER ONE

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Bark at the Moon, scream as a madman,
Five decades have past golden father of the dark,
Voice pure fire, pure blues in metal desire,
Spilled your sins as easily as blood on black altar,
Kept it real growing the red army to stay,
Kept them hypocrites screamin’ the Devil’s at play.
–KING OF DARKNESS

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Bats flying, flying in eternal night,
From the river to the cave,
To wheel against the twilight,
Singing songs of the witch’s slave,
Red eyes–blood red–screams in the night!
–SONG OF THE VAMPIRE BATS

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Ancient purple eyes see and comprehend,

Countless fires carved across your cosmic plains,

Whisper to me, tell me all that I have sought for in vain,

Before my mortal quest has come to an eternal end.

Let me see, let me feel the Universe at my eternal end!

–PURPLE IMMORTAL

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JACKALS forgotten to the sands of time!!

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A horror that was more than horror, a fear that was beyond fear, petrified all my faculties and I felt as if I was weighted down by some ineluctable and insupportable burden of nightmare. –Clark Ashton Smith (The Ninth Skeleton)

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From her childhood, from those early and misty days which began to seem unreal, she recollected the grey stone in the wood.–Arthur Machen (The Ceremony)

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‘No. The face of a dark, remarkable-looking man, in black, with black hair and a grey moustache – a handsome man except for a reserved and secret air. Not a face she ever saw, or at all like a face she ever saw. Doing nothing in the dream but looking at her fixedly, out of darkness.’–CHARLES DICKENS (To Be Read At Dusk)

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“I be as much ashamed as you be, I think,” said Mrs. Wise, and she leered at the pretty, shy-faced girl. Their eyes met and their eyes laughed at one another. –Arthur Machen (Witchcraft)

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The evening was damp and chilly, but the sweat streamed down his face. He struck a match, and there was a strange momentary vision of the vast room, almost empty of furniture, a hollow space bordered by grave walls and the white glimmer of the corniced ceiling.–Arthur Machen (The Idealist)

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hey were people of curious aspect, short and squat, high-cheekboned, with dingy yellow skin and long almond eyes; only in one or two of the younger men there was a suggestion of a wild, almost faunlike grace, as of creatures who always moved between the red fire and the green leaf. –Arthur Machen (The Turanians)

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“How say ye that I was lost? I wandered among roses.
Can he go astray that enters the rose garden?
The Lover in the house of the Beloved is not forlorn.
I wandered among roses. How say ye that I was lost?”
–ARTHUR MACHEN (Ornaments in Jade: The Rose Garden)

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KING OF THE GARGOYLE album is roaring away!!!

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‘He was so different from other men’.
—Robert Bloch

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Some of you—only a few, I confess—believe in the immortality of the soul, and in apparitions which you have not the honesty to call ghosts. –Ambrose Bierce (A Diagnosis of Death)