It’s been well over a decade since Leonor Allan captivated the world of heavy metal as the front woman for the newly reformed Ravens but it isn’t her heart beating from within our speakers that’s made her unforgettable…
I roll my eyes and grumble to myself, “Tell Tale Heart, stupid.”
Dumb shit doesn’t even know his Poe.
With a show that blew our faces off, a classic performance enhanced by a renewed passion for their craft, and dropping some details about a new album and possible tour, New Orleans' very own hardcore fab five returned to the scene in true LPATR fashion.
Okay, that’s not so bad.
Mentioning the show, the new album and the tour, that’s all good publicity.
Especially as he mentions our first three albums, our hits, and gives a brief history of our so-called rise to fame.
It actually almost sounds like this shithead might be a fan.
Then I keep reading.
But where have they been the last four years? That’s what most readers are dying to find out, and this music fan did some digging. We all remember that final show; the October air was crisp, the stagnant heat had finally dissipated, and Leonor Allan was laying in a pool of her own blood.
Pictured left: Lucius ‘Lucky’ De la Grange fighting with paramedics to enter the ambulance as they carted her off to Ochsner Medical, his face torn and hanging by a thread. Pictured right: Markus Favre, Norman Nodine, and Peter Lagrave being escorted by police through the parking lot in handcuffs behind the coroner’s van containing the mutilated body of Colin Hastings.
I can’t believe he fucking posted those.
We knew they were out there, those were photos Vintage fought tooth and nail to have taken down then sued to get the physical and digital negatives of.
I’d love to know how that dipshit got his hands on them.
Maybe I’ll give him a call after I finish reading this bullshit.
Last night, history repeated itself. Around midnight, after closing possibly the most epic show of their career, The Ravens were once again the center of a rather bloody investigation. NOLAPD swarmed the Fillmore after the show and quickly to follow were reports of the band finding body parts in their dressing room. Considering the fact that Allan herself was found naked and crucified in a cemetery a few inches above the murdered body of Pierre Doquin not even six months ago, this reporter thinks it’s safe to say The Ravens have exploded back onto the music scene. The question is, how long will it be this time before LPATR are Nevermore?
“Hey.”
My eyes snap to the bedroom and I quickly close the article, swipe out of the news site, and shove my phone in my pocket as Leo closes the bedroom door. “Hey, princess.”
She gives me a tired smile, her eyes still a little puffy and bloodshot, her nose a touch pink from what was undoubtedly one of the longest nights we’ve had in a while.
It breaks my fucking heart to see her this way.
And it pisses me right off because we shouldn’t have to keep dealing with this kind of shit,sheshouldn’t have to continually have her old trauma dredged up and new created at the hands of some sicko who thinks this is all a fucking game.
“Where is everyone?”
“Mark and Norm went back to the Fillmore,” I say with a soft smile as my girl steps into my waiting arms and holds me tight. “Luck is pulling the van around to the back so we can avoid the paps.”
Leo nods against my chest and takes a deep breath. “Why did they go back?”
“To make sure Francesco is doing what he said he would.”
“And the three of you decided they should go because Lucky will probably start a fight with his brother.”
I kiss the top of her head and grin. “Lucius will probably murder him after the shit he pulled last night. Those two volunteered as tribute to prevent that from happening.”
“They deserve blowjobs for that.”
“That’s my girl,” I snort, looking down as Leo tips her head back and rests her chin on my chest. “How’s Justine?”
“Sedated.”
