“She had understood before she had ever dreamed of a city such as this, where every texture, every color, leapt out at you, where every fragrance was a drug, and the air itself was something alive and breathing.” ― Anne Rice, The Witching Hour
During the day the French Quarter in New Orleans is awash in bright colors, lively jazz music, and the kind of vibrant characters only seen in movies. But when the sun sets and the streets turn dark, another side of the city emerges. Hauntings, tortured souls, voodoo, magical spells cast upon the suspecting and the unsuspecting, the deserving and the undeserving. Evil deeds done by evil persons.
Some had their wretched fate coming to them. Others were robbed of life before their time was due. Many of the spirits of the too-soon departed still reach out to the living.
Come let us share the harrowing stories, the legends, the tall tales of the characters who emerged when the sun set so their deeds could be hidden in the darkness, of those who met an untimely death and still roam darkened hallways and fog-filled alleys of the French Quarter.
