The Adventures of Quaraun The Insane - A Pink Necromancer Short Fiction Story 

Domestic Lives of Dangerous Faeries - LGBTQAI+ Queer MPreg Cozy Fantasy Fiction w a F2M Elf Wizard, a Gay Faerie Chef, & a BiSexual Demon Time Traveller, Free To Read Online

Series Trigger Warnings:

 * Polyamorous married gay couple and their live-in lover

 * Intersex main character, who lives as a trans man

 * Furry Yaoi 

 * Characters often drink, swear, use drugs, and smoke hookahs.

 * Transman Mpreg

Not all things appear in all stories. 

Series Heat Level:

 * Short Stories: Sweet, Fluffy, Lime, or Limon

 * Novellas: Lime, Limon, Orange

 * Novels: Orange, Lemon

What is the series about?

It's three god-level, planet destroying, alien invader Space Elf, Space Faerie, Space Demon megalomaniac super villain bumbling wizards, and their ship's crew (The UnSeelie Court) with big global domination plans, whom have invaded 40th century Earth, settled in a lighthouse in Maine, started a zombie apocalypse, are hellbent on destroying all Humans and taking over the planet, but are never getting anything done because they are too busy throwing temper tantrums, having hissy fits, and flinging food, sea slugs, insults, and sexual tension at each other, to ever get around to destroying the planet.

It's slice-of-life survival horror in a post-apocalyptic necromantic dictatorship, told through dysfunctional domestic intimacy between soul-stealing villains who rule the world. Welcome to the spiralling madness of Quaraun’s eldritch, sensory-heavy, character-driven, neurotic, dysfunctional, intimate, sugar-dusted Fae-punk world. This is the hostile, dystopian, necromantic, and hyper-sensory domestic horror of Quaraun’s everyday life with BoomFuzzy (and sometimes GhoulSpawn), in a grim world ruled by undead Faerie warlords where society has collapsed and survival is brutal, intimate, and corrupt, and Humans are often on the menu of UnSeelie Court feasts.

Seen in image: 

- IMAGE 1: The Pink Necromancer, Thullid Infested Moon Elf silk weaver, travelling merchant, & Royal Court Mage of The UnSeelie Court: Quaraun Swanzen on Noodle Beach. With his unhinged temper, his 12 foot long prehensile, venomous jellyfish tentacle hair, his deadly laser wand, and his inability to stay sober long enough to cast a spell properly, he is the most feared being in the known universe. Quaraun is literally a Space JellyFish (A Thullid) whom has taken control of the corpse of a dead Elf.

In the year 2525, a comet struck the Moon. Now, in 40th century Maine, Earth is frozen, the Moon is fractured, and UnDead Lobsters are a serious problem. And then there's Quaraun: The Pink Necromancer. Most feared super villain on Earth. Possibly the galaxy. Maybe ever. But all he wants is tea, silk embroidery, and a calm evening in his lighthouse.

- IMAGE 2: Master Chef Phooka turned Lich King of The UnSeelie Court: King Gwallmaiic aka BoomFuzzy the Unicorn with his 1968 VW Bus Beach Noodle Food Truck. He is king of the entire fucking planet. Defy him and he'll serve you as the main course of the next UnSeelie Court feast. The world's only known Unicorn, in his true form he is a tiny lilac coloured Shetland Pony with a gleaming silver horn. In his Lich form he is a blue crystal skeleton of a Friesian stallion. 

BoomFuzzy, the Unicorn Lich King of the UnSeelie Court, is Quaraun's dead husband. Technically dead. Officially terrifying. Unofficially the best baker left in the apocalypse.

- IMAGE 3: The Satyr-like, mad scientist Sheep Demon: Gremorse Liore aka GhoulSpawn with his 1974 AMC Gremlin time machine. He is Quaraun's apprentice, and fast becoming the most powerful wizard in the universe.

GhoulSpawn, their brilliant, baffled companion, fell through time from 1978 and never found the way home. Now he juggles tech repairs, running from zombies, and being madly in love with the two most dangerous men of the apocalypse.

 - Art by Wendy Christine Allen. 

- Not seen here: Toobe: a deceptively innocent looking tiny flying silver metal orb that hoovers around GhoulSpawn, giving science reports and scanning for dangers, Toobe is a sadistically insane sentient AI from thirteen thousand years in the future, who is the real brains behind the plot of global domination.

• The Series Prologue  

• Faeries vs Elves (In The Quaraun Series) A Pink Necromancer World Lore Post

• Worldbuilding MoonQuakes and Disabled Characters for Fantasy Writers

• Trigger Warnings: To Trigger or not to Trigger, that is the question

🌸🦄🌸 This work of fiction is a part of a long-running series of novels, novellas, short stories, and poetry, that I have been writing & publishing since 1978 (50th anniversary coming in 2028! ) spanning over 3k published works. 🌸🦄🌸 Cozy Short Slice of Life Dark Fantasy Furry Bara Yaoi Stories ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜💗♂️ ♂️ ♂️ Sweet Gay Romance — Poly Romance — Thruple Romance — Gay Trio Romance — 100 Days Challenge: Day 10❤️🧡💛💚💙💜💗♂️ ♂️ ♂️

Echoes of the Unseen 

In the shadowed crevices of a rocky cove along the cold, snowy coast of 40th century Maine, Quaraun and BoomFuzzy huddled within their resplendent pink silk tent, shielded partially from the relentless icy wind that moaned like the distant cries of forlorn spirits. The moon, fractured and ominously luminous, cast a surreal glow over the icy landscape, making the shadows dance with ghostly allure.

“I’m not insane, you know,” Quaraun muttered, his pale icy blue eyes flickering with the dim candlelight which fought against the oppressive gloom of Maine’s endless winter nights.

He was meticulously arranging his tarot cards, the edges worn and familiar under his gold-plated armored gloves.

BoomFuzzy, in his Humanoid form, sliced through a dense gingerbread cake with his ceremonial obsidian blade dagger and snorted dismissively.

“Aye, and I nae a unicorn,” the old Scottish Faerie retorted.

His long grey dreadlocks were tied back with bright purple clootie ribbons, but some locs had come free, falling over his face. His black and purple tartan attire, a stark contrast to the pink and puce stripe silk interior of Quaraun’s tent.

Quaraun glanced up, his twelve foot long silver jellyfish tentacle hair cascading over his shoulders, falling like a waterfall around him, and swirling on the floor around his feet, shimmering in moonlight.

“I speak to the dead, Unicorn,” the old Moon Elf said. His voice, though soft, carried a steely edge, a defense against any forthcoming jest. “That doesn’t make me mad. It makes me enlightened.”

“And arrogant.”

“It is not arrogant to speak the truth in plain facts.”

“Ya thinks?”

“Yes.”

“Ah.”

“I AM enlightened,” Quaraun repeated.

“Enlightened, he says,” BoomFuzzy chuckled, laying a slice of gingerbread on a chipped plate. “Me we lil Elf, talking to phantoms un using them fancy cards. If that’s nae madness, I dunno what is.”

“Tarot helps me focus on the dead.”

“Ever think ya focus too much on de dead?”

“Unicorn. I’m a necromancer. It’s what we do.”

“Quaraun, when I were alive. I too were a necromancer. But I did no sit around on me fucking bahookie reading cards, drinking absinthe, un smoking a hookah. I were too busy building undead armies to vanquish Humanity.”

“And how’d that go for you?” Quaraun lit his pink blown glass opium pipe, as he spoke.

“I succeeded. I was King of the Unseelie Court! King of the Realm of Fae! Or did you forget? I am King Gwallmaiic, The Elf Eater of Pepper Valley! Leader of The Thirteen Lich Lords! I decimated the entire Human race. I was the single most feared ruler the world had ever known. I marched my undead armies across the planet took out every single Human leader. We Fae took over the planet. We took it back from the Humans! I, a Unicorn, I did that! I, a Necromancer did that! I were King of the World for two thousand fucking years. Or did ya forget that?”

“No.”

“Before you came along the entire planet trembled at my feet!”

“And now they tremble at my feet. I’m more powerful then you were. I did what you couldn’t. I conquered YOU.”

“And you, conquering me, is the ONLY reason people call you the world’s most powerful wizard. A title that I RIGHTFULLY had. A title that you don’t deserve!”

“I defeated you.”

“You defeated my general Gibedon, not me.”

“But now you are a Lich. And I’m the necromancer who made you. I restored your life.”

“I did no ask ya to do that, ya know?”

“I know. But we were soul bound. And half of my soul lay rotting in a grave with your body. It would have killed me. Resurrecting you was as much about saving myself as it was saving you.”

Outside, the wind howled more fiercely, carrying with it a chorus of whispers from the undead lobsters that scuttled dangerously close to their sanctuary. The sounds of their clattering exoskeletons on the icy rocks mingled with the rustling of dead leaves and the distant crashing of angry ocean waves. Quaraun and BoomFuzzy fell silent for a moment while they waited for the zombie crustaceans to pass by.

“Aye,” BoomFuzzy said once the lobsters had passed. “And look where that got us. Yis a half rate necromancer whom can nea cast ya spells correctly, and now we got twenty one billion undead everything on the fucking planet to deal with. Vampire turkeys roaming the streets of Quebec. Ice ptarmigans in Ivujivik. Reverent moose in Sebago Lake. And what do we have here on the beach? Zombie lobsters! There is a herd of undead zombie lobsters circling around outside our tent, right now this very instant!”

“I am aware. And I am trying to fix it.”

“With cards?”

“Yes. With cards.”

“Ya gonna fight fucking undead lobsters with tarot cards?!?”

“Yes.”

“And yis NOT insane?”

Quaraun sighed, but did not respond.

“Lobsters. Quaraun. Big ass fucking Maine lobsters. Dead. Undead. And circling the tent. Because you can no stay sober long enough to cast a proper spell.” BoomFuzzy went back to slicing cake, and continued to mutter under his breath as he did so. “World’s most powerful wizard, my arse. World’s most bumbling wizard is more like it.”

Unperturbed, Quaraun continued his ritual, spreading salt in a circle around them, creating a barrier of protection.

“They speak back, you know,” Quaraun said. “The spirits help us. Without them, we wouldn’t have survived the zombie herds last full moon.”

BoomFuzzy leaned back, observing his necromancer husband with a mixture of admiration and worry.

“And what do these spirits whisper tonight, eh? More doom and gloom to chill me bones?”

Quaraun paused, his gold plated fingers hovering over a tarot card, the Moon, reversed.

“A bad omen.”

“What is?”

Quaraun swallowed, feeling the weight of the unseen eyes upon him. Outside, the icy wind carried the stench of decay and the whispers of the dead, a macabre symphony of the haunted Maine coast. But inside, the tent glowed softly with candlelight, pink silk walls fluttering slightly.

“Trouble brews not far from here. A gathering storm, a swarm of undead perhaps, driven by the fractured moon’s despair.”

“No duffy!” BoomFuzzy scoffed. “Undead lobsters circling the tent, Quaraun. I did no need card to tell me that!”

Quaraun looked up at BoomFuzzy. “Did it not occur to you that there might be a reason why the lobsters are restless tonight?”

BoomFuzzy’s expression darkened, the playful mockery fading into grim resolve. “Then we best be prepared. Can ya card spirits fight, or do they just foretell our bloody doom?”

“They guide,” Quaraun asserted, standing up to his full, though not impressive, small height. “And I can fight. You know that.”

“Ha!” BoomFuzzy laughed mockingly. “You can fight? Ha ha! Ya no fighter, Quaraun. Ya know it.”

Quaraun went to a chest and attempted to pulled out several pouches of goofer dust and black salt. The mimic had other ideas about letting The Pink Necromancer gather his supplies, however and it was several minutes before Quaraun was able to get the items he needed away from the mimic without getting bitten.

Quaraun, BoomFuzzy, and one of Quaraun’s mimic chests. 3d printed figurine by Wendy Christine Allen.

“Ya need some help over there?” BoomFuzzy asked.

“Nope. I can get it.” Quaraun grabbed a wooden spoon and hit the mimic on the top of his chest lip head, and long fanged box spit out his wand.

“Ya, know, normal people keep things in real boxes,” BoomFuzzy said.

“Mimics afford better security,” Quaraun replied.

“How ya gonna fight, when ya can not even keep ya mimic boxes in check?”

“I am the world’s most powerful wizard.”

“Heaven help us all.”

Quaraun glared at his husband. “If there is danger, we can defeat it. You know I can. With your help.”

“Aye, fight we will, me we lil Elf.” BoomFuzzy bounced around the room mockingingly, grabbing his obsidian daggers, his movements graceful yet deadly. “To the death and beyond, if need be.”

The wind clawed at the fabric of their tent. The silver-haired Elf turned to his husband with a seriousness that shrouded his usually gentle demeanor.

“I’m serious, Unicorn.”

“Maybe that’s ya problem. Too much seriousness with all ya dead spirits and not enough time spent with the living.”

“Unicorn, do you forget what you, yourself are?” Quaraun’s voice trembled slightly, not with fear, but with the weight of understanding. “You are a Lich, a specter tied to this cursed earth. I see you, I hear you, when others cannot. They call me insane, because they can not see you or hear you. You are a ghost, yourself.”

BoomFuzzy paused, his obsidian dagger halting in mid-air. The humor drained from his rugged face, replaced by a somber stillness.

“Aye, and that a truth I live with every cursed damned fucking day. But what be yer point, eh, me we lil Elf?”

Quaraun stepped closer, the candlelight flickering shadows across his face.

“My point, Unicorn, is that half the time people call me mad, it’s because I’m speaking to YOU. They don’t see you. They don’t hear you. To them, I converse with the air, with ghosts, when I am talking to YOU.”

A ghost of a smile touched BoomFuzzy’s lips, ironic and faint.

“So, yer madness, as they call it, might just be my existence bleeding into yer world. Is that it?”

“Exactly,” Quaraun affirmed, spreading his hands as if to encompass the realm of their shared reality.

“Should I leave? Is that what ya want?”

“No! I prefer you to the living. You know that. I avoid the living specifically so I CAN be with you, without their mocking words getting in the way.”

“I am dead, Quaraun,” BoomFuzzy said gravely. “Maybe you should try to accept that.”

“I don’t want to accept it. I became a necromancer specifically to bring you back to life.”

“I know that.”

“I love you.”

“I know ya do.”

“My sanity isn’t in question, not truly. It’s their perception that’s flawed. I am Fairy Sighted. I can not help it if I was born able to see and hear the dead. The living have no right to make fun of and me insane because I can see the dead! They lack the sight to see you, the understanding to know you as I do.”

BoomFuzzy set down his dagger and approached Quaraun, his steps silent on the tent’s soft pink velvet floor.

“And yet, ye stick by me, madness and all,” he murmured, reaching out to touch Quaraun’s cheek with a cold, translucent finger. The touch was cold to Quaraun. Cold yet comforting.

“I do.” Quaraun’s eyes glinted with a mix of defiance and devotion. “We are soul bound, you and I.”

BoomFuzzy nodded, his face softening. “Then let the world think ye mad. We know the truth of our souls, entwined beyond their narrow grasp of reality.”

Their conversation was interrupted by a sudden, chilling gust that swept under the tent flaps, carrying with it the musty scent of the bog and a hint of rotting seaweed. Quaraun shivered, not from the cold, but from the premonition that tingled down his spine.

“The spirits were not jesting about the storm of undead,” Quaraun said, turning back to his collection of arcane tools — his wand, tarot deck, and spirit board. “We must prepare. I can feel them, drawing near, drawn by the moon’s sorrow.”

BoomFuzzy retrieved his dagger, his expression now one of grim determination. “Then we stand together, against whatever comes, seen and unseen.”

As all the Quaraun novels and novellas started out as short stories I kept adding to, I may go back and expand this story into a novella, or even a novel. If I do, it will be on Amazon and/or on GumRoad

Quaraun and BoomFuzzy

• On writing a Trans main character and the use of deadnames & old pronouns

The Pink Necromancer, Moon Elf silk weaver & merchant: Quaraun on Noodle Beach. His master chef Phooka turned Lich husband: BoomFuzzy with his 1968 VW Bus Beach Noodle Food Truck. And their on again/off again mad scientist Sheep Demon lover: GhoulSpawn with his 1974 AMC Gremlin time machine. Time Travel setting swings back and forth between 40th century Maine after a comet hit the moon decimating the planet, and the 1970s, Maine. Quaraun in the main character, he and BoomFuzzy are a married gay couple. GhoulSpawn is their shared live-in lover. Art by Wendy Christine Allen.

BoomFuzzy

Quaraun

GhoulSpawn and BoomFuzzy

GhoulSpawn

GhoulSpawn and Quaraun

Faeries vs Elves (In The Quaraun Series) A Pink Necromancer World Lore Post

The Pink Necromancer: The Adventures of Quaraun The Insane aka The Twighlight Manor Series

🌸🦄🌸 Furry Yaoi Fiction about Elves and Faeries and Satyrs and Demons and Unicorns and Technomancer Wizards and Liches living in a Lighthouse and surviving as Travelling Merchants and Food Truck Chefs in Cyberpunk Dystopian 40th Century Maine, and Zombie Apocalypse and Time Travel but it’s Slice of Life Vignettes of Mundane Daily Lives of The UnSeelie Court’s Royal Family trying to survive after a comet hit the moon and turned the Earth into a CyberPunk Ice-Age. 🌸🦄🌸

• eBook Editions from this series can be found on: GumRoad

• Kindle, eBook, Print Paperback, & full colour illustrated Hardcover Editions from this series can be found on: Amazon

Meet The Characters

• How did you build your audience?

Wendy Christine Allen, 2019, able to sit up in a chair for the first time in years, and able to raise up my arm and wiggle fingers. This was when I started playing Witcher 3 on Twitch as part of my physical therapy to regain finger movement. Playing Witcher 3 daily from 2016 to 2019, is how I regained the use of my thumb and two for fingers on my right hand... it is also why I stopped playing Witcher 3 in 2019, once I had strengthen my two forefingers enough to start typing again. Wendy Christine Allen, Old Orchard Beach's Autistic Author, Artist, Illustrator, & Art Car Designer Counting Down to the September 23, 2028 50th Anniversary of my first published book (September 23, 1978) If you are here looking for The Twighlight Manor series, The Crystonite Wars series, The Wild Years series, The White Rock Asylum for the Criminally Insane series, The Twisted Tales series, the Captured By a MerMan series, The Space Dock 13 series, The Kats of Planet Ptarmagin series, the stories about Miss Citten the Eel-Kat, or the stories about Etiole... ALL of those series were combined and consolidated into The Adventures of Quaraun the Insane Pink Necromancer series in 2014, so ALL the different series, are now under one series title. List of the published titles still in print: The Index of over three thousand stories in The Pink Necromancer series What the series is about, for those new here: The introduction to The Pink Necromancer Series.

If you want some stories to get you started in The Pink Necromancer series, reading these first will give you a good introduction to the 3 main characters: BoomFuzzy's Chowder Dilemma If your ass ain’t freezing or your brains ain’t scrambled, you’re ain’t really trying A Very Important Clump of Grass The Washer Woman & The Fae Absinthe Slushies: An Ode to Frozen Green Fairy Wine Bone Dice Excited For The New Baby Zwodder: A Drowsy Stupid State of Mind Pink Sheep, Cheesy Burritos, and The Grim Reality of Zombies Open Grave The Phooka's Dragon School The Moon Goddess Laughs From The Rooftops The Jar of Pickled Toes The Book Burning Maggots, a You Can't Spell Hatred Without Red Hats A Day In The Life of a Bumbling Necromancer The Three-Seventeen Pee Expedition

My Elves Are JellyFish...and I asked Google AI and ChatGPT 5.6 what they thought of this.

As requested, my daily writing prompt series is now available print paperback editions on Amazon.

365 Cozy Writing Prompts For Fantasy Writers Vol.1: Daily Writing Prompts Series For Writers of Serial Pulp Fiction

365 Cozy Writing Prompts For Fantasy Writers Vol.2: Daily Writing Prompts Series For Writers of Serial Pulp Fiction

365 Cozy Writing Prompts For Fantasy Writers Vol.3: Daily Writing Prompts Series For Writers of Serial Pulp Fiction

365 Cozy Writing Prompts For Fantasy Writers Vol.4: Daily Writing Prompts Series For Writers of Serial Pulp Fiction

365 Cozy Writing Prompts For Fantasy Writers Vol.5: Daily Writing Prompts Series For Writers of Serial Pulp Fiction

There are 20 volumes of this writing prompt series currently planned and in varying stages of finishing, hopefully all 20 will be published by the end of 2026. I likely will do a 2nd series of writing prompt books in 2027.

Health update: August 4, 2026 - in recovery for 6 months+ (at least until mid-January 2027...all book and video game releases are pushed back at least 6 months) see video below for why...

@eelkat health update #maine #disabilityawareness #wheelchairlife #wheelchairvlogger #multiplesclerosis ♬ original sound - Wendy C Allen | 📚 Author

Update Sept 3, 2026:

I am able to get around enough to take Koko to dog park... today is 29 days since getting out of hospital. My diet is still mostly liquid, but im eating some solid food again, but its like rice or soft mushy baby food type stuff because I still can not chew yet, though I can swallow again. My jaw is still not functioning good so im having trouble talking still. So there's been slight improvement to my mouth, throat, and jaw, but, zero improvement to my eye, which is a major concern, be Im almost fully blind right now. im legally blind since birth in my left eye, so I have no ability to fall back on using my left eye. My right eye is the one injured and my vision in it is "40% decreased" according to my doctor, but it wasn't good vision to begin with, and right now my right eye is not much different from my legally blind left eye. Which I why I have to have someone drive my car for me instead of me driving my car myself right now, which is very frustrating, because, being a female, I had to fight for over twenty years to be allowed to drive. I started sneaking out at age 31 and dressing as a man to go to Old Orchard Beach high school to get a ged, because us females are not allowed to go to school. And i was 37 years old when snuck out to the DMV and got a driver's permit and started going to college. I was 42 and 8 months pregnant when my family found out I was going to college and thats when I was punished by the backhoe driving over my house and my spine broken with a golf club and my baby born right then and killed with same golf club. So it's very frustrating now, so soon after finally being able to drive , to now not be able to drive because of an eye injury, especially after 14 years of being paralyzed from the golf club and not being allowed to have a wheelchair, again, because i am female and we females are simply not allowed to do anything. I hate the culture I was born into. I wish I had the freedom to go to school and drive a car the way American women do. I wish having my spine broken with a golf club and my baby killed with a golf club and a backhoe driven over my house was not how men in my family punishment women in my family for learning to read and write. Its so frustrating not being able to to drive again, so soon after 14 years being paralyzed, and being paralyzed by the golf club was the punishment for getting a driver's license back in 2013 after 30 years of men not letting me have one. I hate my family's culture and how they treat us women.

I get so sick of Americans telling me how they wish they could be a Gypsy… they are either misogynist woman hating pigs, or delusional idiots who haven't got a clue how shittily we Gypsy women are treated by Gypsy men, because no one in their righ mind who knows anything about Gypsy culture would ever want to be part of it. I hate that I was born a Gypsy. 

update sept 7, 2026

"You would not make a good teacher"... what does that mean, and why are there so many people on Railroad Ave and Western Ave and Cutts St why walk up to me and say that to me?

I find it very confusing. I have low functioning Autism (the Rain Man type) and so i have very little understanding of words beyond the basic ones, and i never went to to school, so I never learned maths or sciences, and I only had remedial classes at Southern Maine Community College, because I did not have an education to enroll with regular, I was there taking every reading and writing class they had to learn how to read and write, and also took speaking classes to learn how to talk (i spoke Shetland Scottish language because that was language my grandmother spoke but she died when I was 8 so I only knew that language to speak and write, and I was 37 when I went to college and 42 when I learned English speaking and I still cant speak English good yet), all the other classes I took were art painting and cooking.

So the phrase "You would not make a good teacher" makes no sense to me because it seems to imply that I am trying to be a teacher, but I don't have anything close to the education ti be a teacher, and im not trying to be a teacher. So I don't know why people keep saying this phrase to me and I assume it must have some sort of a slang meaning, but I can't figure out what it could be of why do these people keep saying it to me.

see video below for more information: 

@eelkat "You would not make a good teacher"... what does that mean, and why are there so many people on Railroad Ave and Western Ave and Cutts St why walk up to me and say that to me? I find it very confusing. I have low functioning Autism (the Rain Man type) and so i have very little understanding of words beyond the basic ones, and i never went to to school, so I never learned maths or sciences, and I only had remedial classes at Southern Maine Community College, because I did not have an education to enroll with regular, I was there taking every reading and writing class they had to learn how to read and write, and also took speaking classes to learn how to talk (i spoke Shetland Scottish language because that was language my grandmother spoke but she died when I was 8 so I only knew that language to speak and write, and I was 37 when I went to college and 42 when I learned English speaking and I still cant speak English good yet), all the other classes I took were art painting and cooking. So the phrase "You would not make a good teacher" makes no sense to me because it seems to imply that I am trying to be a teacher, but I don't have anything close to the education ti be a teacher, and im not trying to be a teacher. So I don't know why people keep saying this phrase to me and I assume it must have some sort of a slang meaning, but I can't figure out what it could be of why do these people keep saying it to me. #mainelife #biddefordmaine #maine #disabilitytiktok #Biddeford ♬ original sound Wendy C Allen | 📚 Author

update Sept 15, 2026:

I have some slight movement in some my fingers again again after over a decade being paralyzed

you remember how I used to be a professional doll making, pattern designer, and embroiderer, back before I became paralized and before my son was murdered and being the backhoe drove over my house?

all my equipment, sewing machines, ect were all destroyed by the backhoe driving over my house, and I have been quardepelegic for over a decade because of it so could not use my hands to sew or draw or embroider, and so only continued to do my writing of novels since then because I could do that with dragon dictation software,

well, since 2016, I been playing Witcher 3 and don't starve video games on twitch livestream, one hand two fingers, as part of my therapy to regain nerve and muscle use of my fingers, and now after 10 years of that, I have somewhat more movement in my fingers and im thinking maybe I can try to do embroidery and doll making again, but not sure, anyways, now im rebuying all of my sewing and embroidery equipment that the backhoe destroyed when it drove over my house, and hopefully I can use my hand enough to embroider again.

waiting for stuff to arrive in mail, so soon I should find out if ten years of twitch gaming has given me enough muscle strength to use my fingers to embroider again.

update to the previous video, answering viewer question about lack of hospital vs broken spine

Wheelchair Fundraiser... I need to upgrade to a power wheelchair, the manual one just isn't enough anymore. But the power wheelchair is $25k. Yes, twenty five thousand dollars. Wtf? I can get a car for a quarter that price, why are wheelchairs so damned expensive? That's more money then I make in five years, so I need to start a fundraiser for it.

Books By Wendy Christine Allen
Currently Available on Amazon Kindle:

Index of the Quaraun novels, novellas, & short story collections on Amazon

And GumRoad:

Index of the Quaraun short stories on GumRoad

On Medium:

An Index of the more than TWO THOUSAND Quaraun Short Stories on Medium

(NOTE: a $5 or $15 per month paid subscription required to access stories on Medium)

On Vocal:

Index of the Quaraun short stories on Vocal

On Notd:

Index of the Quaraun Short Stories on Notd

On OnlyFans:

Index of the Quaraun Short Stories on OnlyFans

(NOTE: a $4.99 per month paid subscription required to access stories on OnlyFans)

Pink Necromancer Merch: On CafePress:

An Index of the Quaraun Merch on CafePress

Pink Necromancer Merch: On Zazzle:

Index of the Quaraun Merch on Zazzle

Not Quaraun:

This page was written by Wendy Christine Allen of 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine.

All Rights Reserved.