Bloody Mary's Guide to Hauntings, Horrors, and Dancing with the Dead: True Stories from the Voodoo Queen of New Orleans
272
Bloody Mary's Guide to Hauntings, Horrors, and Dancing with the Dead: True Stories from the Voodoo Queen of New Orleans
272eBook
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Overview
". . . known as ‘The Poet Priestess of the Spirit of New Orleans’ Bloody Mary is a true spokeswoman of her hometown . . .” —Southern Women Magazine
In 15 compelling chapters, Bloody Mary shares with readers her experiences with the ghosts and haunted happenings of New Orleans. Among the tales of the supernatural are:
- A visit to a haunted sanitarium
- A meeting with Julie the Ghost of Forbidden Love
- The story of Madame La Laurie, La Vampyra
- Meetings with Jean Lafitte, the Gentleman Pirate
- Encounters with the ghosts in New Orleans graveyards
Each chapter ends with “Afterlife Lessons and Warnings” that help readers navigate the seen and the unseen worlds.
What makes these stories particularly engaging is Bloody Mary herself. She is not only a psychic investigator, she is also a psychic healer offering healing and kindness to spirits that walk the earth and also helping readers find spiritual lessons in encounters with the spirit world.
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781609259624 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Red Wheel/Weiser |
| Publication date: | 02/01/2016 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 272 |
| File size: | 4 MB |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
Bloody Mary's Guide to Hauntings, Horrors, and Dancing with the Dead
True Stories from the Voodoo Queen of New Orleans
By Bloody Mary
Red Wheel/Weiser, LLC
Copyright © 2016 Bloody MaryAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-60925-962-4
CHAPTER 1
Julie, the Ghost of Forbidden Love
I was interviewing some psychics at Bottom of the Cup Tea Room who owned and worked in this known haunted building of 734 Royal Street. Specifically, I was inquiring about their famous resident spirit, Julie. This group shared many ghostly tales: electrical issues, water faucets turning off and on, items disappearing and reappearing, and even one tale about their haunted swing in the courtyard. Everyone had an experience to share — a meandering ghost cat, occasional phantom voices calling them near — plus a unanimous reporting of a very uncomfortable presence. Some reported it as a simple feeling of being watched or "cased out." Words like "danger" and "suffocation" were mentioned. The general consensus was that there was a rather indomitable masculine entity whose darkness was apparent upon occasion. They all agreed that Julie was light and sweet. I was here for Julie at this time, and an important tale presented itself.
A sweet female psychic in her mid-twenties and I exited the main building to the courtyard for our session. Mind you, the entire time we were chatting, I was covered with spirit-formed cold chills that were getting stronger and stronger, pulsating through my whole body. I attributed them to the fact that spirits were near and listening. Doors slammed in the nearby slave quarters, bells tinkled by unseen hands, and soft laughter echoed from the throat of an unseen watcher from the haunted rear patio where we were sitting. My interviewee noticed me trance away ("getting tipsy," as we sometimes say), and laughingly remarked, "Oh, that's just Julie — she's really trying to get your attention." I nodded and bid a kind hello and acknowledged Julie's spirit presence.
The psychic continued, "Once I was napping in this same courtyard, and I was awakened by a beautiful stranger. She was a young woman who appeared barely twenty. She was of olive complexion and very pretty. She shook me to wake me and spoke in a tone of concern. Over and over she repeated, 'Henri Je Rouge, Henri Je Rouge.'"
Mistakenly, this psychic thought the spirit of Julie was looking for someone with that name, perhaps a child. But I knew better, for now Julie had stepped even closer into me, and I was the medium. I knew her real meaning. Plus, as a local, I certainly knew of the feared Je Rouge.
I chimed in, "No, no. She was warning you and waking you to protect you. Je Rouge is a demon — the red-eyed demon, an evil one."
An arctic cold enveloped us from the beyond at the precise moment I repeated that refrain. A sense of urgency was upon me to run out right that minute. This was not out of any sense of fear, just a knowing. Julie was urging me on. It was time to go. The second I stepped out of the boundaries of the building, I realized that the pulsating icy feeling was not a tingling from the haunted courtyard, but was emanating from inside me. Exhilaration is the best word to describe it, coupled with a sense of awe and a sensation that the whole world was my personal oyster.
I began to skip down the street (not a normal pace for me). I even tried to jump up to hit all of the store signs I encountered. Giggling and laughing aloud, I merrily skipped through the Vieux Carré as I was both self and other, overpowered with glee. There was still a slight sense of human embarrassment. Was everyone staring at me? No mind, this felt great! But I had things to do. I needed to fetch my child from pre-K, but that would mean I would have to drive home after. I had to do something to fix this. Then again, I did not want it to stop at all because the feeling was so happy and carefree. There was so much I could learn from Julie, and she from me. I hated for her to leave.
I usually prepare for spirit encounters with protection amulets in hand, but I was empty-handed on this day. No matter, mine were only two blocks away, with sacred altars in wait. I skipped merrily toward the New Orleans Historic Voodoo Museum on Dumaine Street, where I was stationed at the time and where Creole mystic Madame Cocoa was busily preparing her own mojo. I knocked on her door and told her quickly that I was not alone — I had a ghost with me. I hoped she wanted to co-channel and socialize with us, but Cocoa went right to the heart of the matter.
"Do you want me to get rid of it?"
That sounded so final.
"Well, I think I would rather talk and get to know her."
But Cocoa was busy and not in the mood.
"Do you want to get rid of her or not?" she pressed.
I calculated quickly: Pick up child + drive home + cook dinner = "Yes."
Cocoa took her bottle of Florida water from the altar, poured some into her cupped hand, slapped it on my heart chakra, and said "Julie!" The moment she called her name, the spirit was gone. I had not told Cocoa where I had just come from or the name of the ghost.
Julie's spirit was gone quicker than she came, but our connection lingers. I can honestly say that Julie is still a close friend of mine. She was the first spirit to take a full ride on my back that had to be ritually removed. Some nineteen-plus years ago, right at my transition from part-time to full-time spirit work, Mademoiselle Julie walked in. She needed a ride.
Her Story
Julie was the most beautiful woman in town: long hair down below her waist, skin the color of café au lait, and eyes of hazel. She wanted nothing more than to marry Zachary in the eyes of God and bear his children. But this simply was not done in the day. Legally, she was a woman of color, and marrying between races was not permitted. She was his placée, a form of legal mistress. Julie did not understand why they should not wed — everyone else in town seemed to want to marry her. Her love for Zachary was beyond compare, as she thought his was for her. What could her one-eighth strain of blood noir possibly mean between their love?
Whenever Zachary was entertaining his friends below, she was expected to spend many a night alone on the third floor. This was a part of his world that she was not privy to, and it saddened her greatly.
When they were alone, they had quite the storybook romance; but these days were few and far between now. For, as in any story-book romance, there was an evil shadow in the background — and this tale has several.
One was Zachary's family. They had selected someone for him to marry — someone of title, someone of wealth. More and more, he would leave his love to spend time with the other woman to appease his family. And more and more, Julie was left alone — trapped, not only by the sadness of her man seeing another woman, but because another evil shadow was weighing heavily on the shoulders of Julie.
Julie was haunted. She saw and felt the menacing presence of the evil spirit Je Rouge. She saw his red eyes in the windows at night. She felt his draining desires. A young lady should not be alone; it simply was not proper. She was easy prey.
And now there was a strange man lurking about. Soon he seemed obsessed with Julie, or possessed. Henri was a local slave, and he terrified her. In Julie's eyes, now he stalked her, too. Now, Henri and Je Rouge were merging as one, and Julie was the one on the menu. It was maddening. She knew not what to do.
When Zachary did come home, all he and Julie did was fight. She begged and pleaded for him to stay, for she truly feared for her life. At first Zachary thought this was a ploy to get him to stay home longer, but soon he realized that this was destroying Julie. Worse, it was destroying their love. Without a word, but with a noble nod, he stared into her hazel eyes, and she knew deep in her heart that he would take care of things. From that night forth, she knew she was safe. It seemed as if all the monsters vanished when he held her in his arms. They never spoke of it again.
Slowly, Julie's strength returned. Her fears subsided, and she was free to deal with the true matter at hand: her man was seeing another woman. No one should marry him but her — it was destiny.
Maybe Marie Laveau would help. She was renowned in the field of love. In fact, she was the mistress of l'amour. Her work had an impeccable reputation. So Julie gathered her strength and went to see the Voodoo queen to procure a love ritual. She asked Marie to make their love last for eternity and Mam'zelle Marie gave Julie everything she needed.
With those items in hand, she returned home and climbed up the stairs to wait for her love. The Thursday night card game had rolled 'round, as usual. And, as usual, Julie waited above as Zachary's friends gathered below. But when Zachary climbed the stairs later that night, there was nothing usual about the kiss they shared. It was more passionate than any other. He was speechless when they broke from that embrace, transfixed by her eyes. Why, he couldn't even speak until spoken to. He was under her spell.
The words they shared that night seemed to seal their fate for eternity.
"You have taken care of me in every way for all these years, and somehow you rid me of Je Rouge. You're my knight in shining armor. Now comes the time that I must prove my love back to you," Julie said.
"There is nothing you need prove, my dear," Zachary retorted gallantly.
"It is my debt due," she shrewdly replied, knowing he was foremost a man of honor.
Julie persisted with this demand, and Zachary relented. "Alright then, Julie. If you feel so strongly about this ... prove your love to me. Walk then. Walk the night on the roof. That will prove your love!"
That night, there was a terrible ice storm.
"If I do that, then you'll certainly marry me," said Julie.
"Why, yes," Zachary said. "In fact, I will marry you in the morning if you walk all night on the roof without the benefit of any of your clothing."
Julie disrobed, much to Zachary's dismay. He thought it would be over and done with, such an obviously preposterous statement. But, then again, he should have known how serious a subject this was with Julie.
"Go. I know how improper it is to keep your friends waiting," Julie urged. "After all, I will be Madame in the morning and never have to leave your side again. But do indulge me. Look deeply into my eyes, the windows of the soul, so you know how much I love you. For I very well could freeze to death up there tonight."
Zachary replied, in all earnestness, "No. My love will keep you warm."
They embraced, and then each went in their opposite directions. Throughout the night, Zachary became increasingly nervous. He did not hear Julie's footsteps overhead as usual. But he was not going to give in to her — not this time. He would find her warm, waiting in bed, and things would be back to the way they should be by morning.
All the night he did fret. At 6 AM, when the cock did crow, Zachary sent his friends away and hurried upstairs to see where Julie was hiding, but could find her not. He raced up to the roof. There, he found her frozen, naked body clutching the chimney. Zachary pried Julie's fingertips from the brick, scooped her up into his strong arms, carried her through the attic window and down the ladder, and laid her on the bed where they once made so much love. The guilt was overwhelming. He had no idea she'd actually go through with such a thing, but he should have known. Zachary held Julie tightly in an embrace until she expired in his arms.
On cold December nights, Julie walks on the rooftop — sometimes searching, sometimes protecting, but most often lingering and listening for love's small tap, tap, tap upon her door. Groups gather on Rue Royale waiting to catch a glimpse of what many say is the world's only naked ghost. Most ghosts have more shame, but not Julie. She walks boldly back and forth across the roof in afterlife as she did in life, until the first rays of sunshine hit and she disappears.
Another ghost is sometimes seen: a man, formally dressed in period attire, wandering the rooms. Other times, just his ghostly hands are glimpsed, usually shuffling a deck of cards. And once in a blue moon, two shadow lovers embrace. Sometimes they are even seen strolling hand in hand across the courtyard in midair. For Zachary too died, not long after Julie, they say, of a broken heart.
But there is that other ghost — the dark one. He is the one felt and feared by many who have lived in this building throughout the years. Unbeknownst to me, I was destined not only to befriend Julie, but fate planned for me to deal with this Other as well.
They say that the other side is a mirror image of what happens here; so it seems to be for Julie. For that slave Henri could not rest on the other side without coming back to catch a glimpse of the woman he wanted but society would never let him have. So heavy is his presence that Julie's spirit still feels as though she is being stalked. It important to her to warn people who visit of the evils they may encounter where she once lived. "Henri Je Rouge! Henri Je Rouge!" These are the words I have heard echo from the rooftop. Perhaps she was not really alone on the roof that night.
Séance
You don't have to hold hands 'round a table to have a séance, and you don't have to use EMF meters to have a paranormal investigation; these are really only techy trumpets and bells of modern day that amplify your own psychic abilities.
I cleared permission to do an overnight investigation at 724 Royal Street. My sister Carol, my friend Sarah, and I all collaborate on psychic and spiritual encounters, plus a few fans tagged along. Six women sat to psychically connect.
We were on the second floor of the main building this night. There was a connecting entrance from the slave quarters' rooms to ours and a joint winding stairwell between all the floors. We started with some simple social connections in the parlor, but Julie's terror and warnings were increasingly felt this night, and Henri came out in all his fury.
It started slowly. We felt there was someone out of place, lurking. Someone who really should not come into the main house; a dark man. The current owner, Glenette, heard the phrase "the bad man."
At one point, I went into a separate room alone to do some automatic writing. The overall message followed suit:
Be careful. Watch out. He is close. Be wary of your company, too.
I said nothing to my companions about this. We continued for another hour or so of mutual channeling and back and forth with our Q&A mediumship. When that social connection part of the night was done (or, more precisely, when the spirits decided it was done), the door to the stairwell slammed shut, sending shivers reverberating clear down to the bones of all. We ran to pursue the culprit and caught the wisps of a white ghostly dress hem as Julie's ghost turned up the winding staircase and retreated to the third floor.
Knocking quickly on the tenant Chris's door, we asked, "Did you see Julie? We followed her to you from downstairs."
Chris and his wife Lisa had many experiences with Julie on countless other nights, especially in the realm of sound. Frequent ghostly dinner parties with the clinking of crystal goblets and murmurs of conversation just out of reach embraced them on many a quiet evening. We all searched for her this night, with no luck. She just disappeared.
Soon everyone exited the building except my sister and I — we stayed overnight on the second floor. We continued our quest and experienced many anomalies, photographed paranormal evidence, heard whisperings through the night, and were followed by the scent of old-fashioned sweet perfume. Later, I had dream visions that were both lucid and concrete.
By morning, I knew how to help. I wanted to do something to protect Julie; my empathy was strong on her case. I gathered classic historic protections against demons, vampires, and/or general suckeurs.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Bloody Mary's Guide to Hauntings, Horrors, and Dancing with the Dead by Bloody Mary. Copyright © 2016 Bloody Mary. Excerpted by permission of Red Wheel/Weiser, LLC.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Table of Contents
Contents
Foreword,Preface,
Introduction,
1 Julie, the Ghost of Forbidden Love,
Lagniappe Hitchhikers and My Haunted House,
2 The Voodoo Museum, Seven Ghosts and Counting,
Lagniappe Angel Mom, My Longest Love,
3 Madame Lalaurie, La Vampyra,
Lagniappe Henriette, the Phantom Who Wanted to Come to America,
4 Jean Lafitte, the Gentleman Pirate,
Lagniappe Blood and Ice,
5 Cities of the Dead,
Lagniappe Katrina and the Cauchemar,
6 Marie Laveau, Queen of Voodoo,
Conclusion,
Bibliography,