How many scenes and settings per chapter?



By Wendy C Allen
eelkat_red_scarf.jpgWendy 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:

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.

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.

The first of the Visual Novels/Video Games for The Adventures of Quaraun the Inane/The Pink Necromancer series is published and available on Itch.io, there are 3 more planned for release in 2026, 6 more planned for release in 2027, and the big 60-hour 80k word 150 page one (Quaraun Goes To the Fair) is planned for a 2028 release.

There is a Pink Necromancer card game and a Pink Necromancer board game, as well as a Pink Necromancer table top RPG supliment for Dungeons and Dragons, all in the works, and to be released over the next couple of years as well.

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
@eelkat Health update: #chickenpox #bellspalsy #RamsayHuntsyndrome #paralysis #recovery ♬ original sound - Wendy C Allen | 📚 Author
@eelkat

I seem to have had another stroke (during the night while I was asleep?) #stroke #paralysis

♬ 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.

How many scenes and settings per chapter? 

I'm in the middle of editing a novel for the Quaraun series, and was putting some of the chapters up online, because fans had requested I do so, and as I was doing so this random question was floating around in my brain:

How many scenes and settings per chapter? 

The question was inspired by the fact that readers had asked me to post the chapters online to read. I used to do this years ago. Back when I was writing and publishing on FanFiction.net, you'd see me every week or 2 or 3 times a week, write the next scene and post it, completely unedited, exactly as it came out of my head.

Okay, so, if you've followed me since my FanFiction.net days back in the 1990s, you know that I have never written an 'actual' chapter in my life.

And if you've only just recently started reading my work, specifically if you are reading the sample "chapters" on my site here, you will no doubt by now have noticed that every one of these 'chapters" has a heading on it which states:

(No clue what chapter it is, it's anyone's guess; I did not chapter this novel, yet. You are seeing the pre-publication draft edition of it here, which is not yet edited. The published print edition may be different.)

Unless this is the first page of my site you've visited (if so, Welcome!) you have likely seen this notice as it is on several hundred pages of my site.

If you are a regular reader from years ago, you know how I write, but the rest of you may be wondering about this notice and why it is there. Which is what I was thinking about today, as I put up some new chapters for my readers to read.

You have to understand that when I started writing the Quaraun series, I never intended it to be mass market published as paperback novels available in books stores, like it is today.

Forty years ago in 1978, I wasn't even a teenager yet when I started writing it. I was a kid in school, who had a kindergarten teacher that went; "OMG! WOW! This kid can write, we gotta publish this!" It was a 16 page story story called "Friends Are Forever" about a talking cat from outer space, investigating a haunted house.

I wrote it, during class, because the teacher was teaching the A-B-Cs to the class, and I at 5 years old had made the comment: "Why am I here with these retarded babies who don't know how to read or write?"

Mrs. Bureau, didn't know what to do. She was a Kindergarten teacher. The only thing she knew how to do was teach 5 year olds the alphabet and count numbers...things I had already been doing since age 3. Her solution to the problem was to hand me a stack of books to read: Charlotte's Web, The Rats of NIMH, and the BFG. Three days later I had finished all three of them and started Treasure Island. After finishing Treasure Island, she had no more books for me to read, and so, she handed me a stack of paper and pencil and said: "Go write a book, just get out of my hair, I have a class to teach."

And four hours later, that same  kindergarten teacher was going; "OMG! WOW! This kid can write, we gotta publish this!"

Thus how my very short story: Friends Are Forever, got published in 1978.

I was taken out of school at 8 years old, because I was reading and writing at a high school level and the teachers concluded there was nothing left they could teach me, yet I was too young to attend high school. 

And by that point, at 8 years old, had already published more than a dozen short stories in various magazines.

I received my first college degree at age 16. In Dressmaking & Theatrical Costume Design. Intending to go immediately into a career in fashion design for costumes for theatres with my end goal being that I wanted to design the Las Vegas Feather Dancer style costumes worn by the Ice Capettes for The Ice Capades. (which explains my over the top CosPlays that I am also known for.) However, this did not happen, as instead of designing costumes for other people's plays, I started writing plays and designing the costumes for my own characters.

As a teenager, when most children were in school, I already had a thriving career as a published short story writer and stage script playwright.

In the 40 years since, I've published more than 2,000 short stories.

A lot of people seem to go into writing, with the goal of writing a novel. I'm constantly getting asked by newbie writers, my advice and they always say some line or paragraph about how they have the dream of writing a novel. So many have an end goal of publishing a novel but I never did.

One of the very popular questions that I get asked over and over again is: How many scenes and settings per chapter? 

I look at that question every time I get it and multiple thoughts go through my brain:

  • Do they know who I am?
  • Have they ever read my work?
  • Are they aware I've never written a novel?
  • Do they know that the books of mine which are labeled as "novels" are in fact sets of short stories that have been arranged in order, so they could be read like a novel, even though they are not in fact novels?
  • How am I supposed to know how many scenes and settings there are per chapter, when I myself have never written a chapter in my entire life?

I am of the belief, that if you are going to ask an author their advice on writing, you should at least have read the author's work so you know whether or not they write the type of thing you are asking about. I mean, doesn't that seem logical.

I never know how to answer this question because I do not write novel. I write short stories and stage plays, which later get compiled into novelized editions.

And so, here I am now, taking 40 years of short stories, 2,000 of them, compiling them into novelized editions for the upcoming 40th anniversary, and I'm trying to figure out:

How the heck many scenes and settings are there supposed to be per chapter? 

And for those interested in them, the chapters that I had just put up, that inspired this question are these:

So, I've been looking around at various novels I have read and you know what? I can't find a common thread to give an answer with.

Some authors have chapters that are 2 or 3 pages long. Others have chapters that are always exactly 10 pages long. Some have chapters that are 20 to 30 pages long. There are some that have no rhyme nor reason to it and have a 1 page chapter followed by a 30 page chapter then a 7 page chapter.

As for scenes, I've seen some that each chapter is only 1 scene and other that have 5 or more scene changes per chapter.

Who is right? Who is wrong?

I don't know.

So what is it that I do? How do I solve this problem in my own books? What is my solution?

My solution is to have no actual chapters in my books at all, and to continue writing as I always have. Writing a short story, that consists of one single, solitary scene. Only this and nothing more. In the novel editions each scene/story ends with:

~o0o~

Which acts as a stopping point for the reader. They can stop reading here like they've come to the end of the chapter, or they can continue on.

And so in the end, my novels have no actual real chapters at all and are strings of scenes that flow along in order.

Are there multiple settings in each? No. Each scene is always in one place. And as I write Slice of Life, that means often the entire novel takes place in one very small space of time (an hour or less) in one room.

I don't do the big epic scenery and settings sort of thing.

You can see an example of both the scene change *chapter end?) and a setting change happening at the same time here...

This sample is 3 connecting chapters from the book GhoulSpawn and The Lich Lord's Lover.

In the first sample chapter, we see main character Quaraun and his friends Unicorn and GhoulSpawn trapped in a dungeon/prison cell about to be tortured, but half way through the chapter, a portal opens and spits them out in the middle of a swamp. So this is an instance of a chapter with 2 different settings.

That chapter ends with them still in the swamp.

The ~o0o~ appears to alert the reader that the chapter has ended and a new scene opens, with the trio now having spent several days wandering through the forest until they came to the sheep farm of an ancient wizard whom they had been looking for.

In this chapter you see briefly the forest and the outside of the sheep farm, but then the rest of the scene takes place in the front parlour of the old wizard's house. This chapter ends with them leaving the house, but the reader does not follow them outside and instead stays to hear the old wizard's last words to them.

The ~o0o~ appears yet again and this next chapter opens with the three of them, several hours later as it is now night time, sitting around their campfire, deciding what they will do the next morning.

Thus you see that each chapter is it's own scene and the setting flows around the scene in question, with the chapter starting and ending with each scene, and the setting changing each time the scene changes. (Note that this was a section of about 40 pages of the novel, and I've only included here the opening and ending scenes of each chapter, and not the middle pages of them, for sake of space and reading time.

Harrier stayed by the door to Unicorn and GhoulSpawn's cell, staring at Unicorn and seemed to have no interest in anything else. He grasped his talon clawed hands on the bars and glared at Unicorn with a look so full of hate.

“Are you coming?” the doctor asked the Phooka.

“I do not approve of your work, Cheecka, you know that.” Harrier never took his eyes off Unicorn as he spoke. “Besides. I've no interest in the Flamite. The Lich is the one who started the Plague. He's the key to stopping it and finding a cure.”

“We don't know that that is the Plague Lich.”

“It is the Plague Lich.”

“How do you know?”

“I can smell it in his blood. This is Antaras.”

“How can you be sure just on that?”

Harrier slowly looked up at the doctor. Cheecka cringed as the beast's solid black eyes made contact with his.

“I know my own blood. My family is cursed. We are things that should never have been born. Born of death, made life. He is dead and yet he lives.”

Harrier looked back at Unicorn.

“You have your history. We have ours. You fear the wrong king. Do what you're going to do, but leave me out of it. I want no part of you barbarianism. As long as the Gremlin is with them you're foolishness is doomed to fail. He has more power then you give him credit for.”

“We have the Grand High Emperor...”

“You have nothing.”

Harrier stood at the cell, his claws gripping the bars. His soulless eyes staring into GhoulSpawn’s frightened yellow eyes.”

“I’ve seen this day a thousand times.”

“You’re foolish, Harrier.”

“You are. No matter how many times you kill him, the Gremlin is always going to reset time. I've been to a thousand pasts and a thousand futures. I've travelled with The Gremlin himself, I helped him build that machine, and I know you have nothing.”

Harrier turned back to Cheecka.

“You don't capture him here and your foolishness now will make things worse. You've told him too much already. You should have sent him back to Black Tower the moment you knew who he was. Instead you babel on telling him more and more. You are writing this future which you claim you do not want.”

***(several pages of this chapter are removed for this sample, to jump to the end of the chapter)***

The doctor removed the object and was about to do the same thing to the Elf's other eye, when GhoulSpawn started begging them to stop, forgetting he was still holding the Necromancer's wand. Instantly a portal opened up in the ceiling and the three of them vanished leaving the doctors to wonder where they had gone. The last thing they heard was Harrier saying to the others: “I told you. You fools!”

Quaraun, Unicorn, and GhoulSpawn now found themselves in a swamp.

“I'm wet,” Quaraun complained as he stood up. “I'm soaked! And I'm muddy!”

“What did I do?” GhoulSpawn asked as he spun around in circles trying to determine where they were and how they got there.

“You wove my wand around while you were talking,” Quaraun said, taking the wand out of GhoulSpawn's hand. “Apparently a bit a too powerful for you. You seem to attract portals to you. Maybe we don't have to find Black Tower to get home.”

“What kind of a wand opens portals?”

“This one. It's done it before, though I don't seem to be able to control it. I don’t know how it does it.”

“I thought you said it unlocked Faery Iron.”

“It does a lot of things. Mostly it grows flowers. And turns things pink. I used it to paint a palace pink once.”

“Why pink?”

“I like pink.”

“What is it with you and pink? Where are we now?”

“I don't know.”

Quaraun looked to Unicorn. He was still dazed from the Faery Iron, but the chains were gone and he'd soon recover.

“Are you alright?” Quaraun asked the Phooka, who had not gotten up yet.

“I am weak. It drained me. I is so very weak. I need time to recover. As do ya.”

“Me?”

“Yis bleeding.”

Quaraun put his hand over his eye, then pulled a mirror out of his bag. Blood was running down the side of his nose, from the corner of his eye.

“Why am I not feeling that?”

“No brain left in ya head? Did dey just try to kill the Thullid in ya?”

***(several pages of this chapter are removed for this sample, to jump to the end of the chapter)***

 “Does we know yet what ya did to make them do this thing to yas?” Unicorn asked.

“Ongadada. Whatever that is. They said it was a place. A place where I killed a lot of people and changed the world and made this world happen. I think, we need to get back home and then make sure, I never go to a place called Ongadada. We need to make sure this future never happens.”


~o0o~


Days passed in a blur as the trio made the long trek back south in search of The Gremlin. Following the directions provided to them by the saloon girl, they were able to locate Luke Swanzen’s old sheep farm, which the aged Gremlin had moved into.

The old house was in disrepair. Around it was many acres off wooden fences, surrounding many hundreds of sheep contentedly grazing.

“My god,” Quaraun exclaimed. “Look at all the sheep!”

“Dis definitely where our Ghouly live,“ Unicorn said.

They knocked at the door.

The old orange robed wizard answered the door.

“Quaraun?” The Gremlin was astonished to see them. “What are you doing here?”

“We don’t know.”

“You don't know? How typical of you, Quaraun. Do you ever know where you are or how you got there? Well, you might as well come in, now that you’ve found me.”

Someone behind Gremlin ran from the room, scurrying up the stairs. A door slammed somewhere on the 2nd floor.

“Is there someone else here?”

“That was Sunta. He lives with me.”

“Sunta? You don’t live alone?”

“I used to. Not any more.”

“Who is Sunta?”

“He’s, uhm... he’s... a friend.”

“You sound uncertain.”

“I’m uncertain if I should introduce you to him. He’s... shy? Shy’s a good word.”

“You sound like you’re lying.”

“So what else is new? I’m still a thief too.”

“And you still have sheep.”

“Ever so many sheep.”

“Is it just you and Sunta here?”

“Yes.”

“Are you happy together?”

“Why the questions, Quaraun? You jealous?”

“When we saw you before. You were extremely sad. And very lonely. It made me unhappy that you were alone.”

“Well, I’m not alone now.”

“Are you lovers?”

Gremlin was silent a moment before responding.

“What an odd question. You are jealous. I know you too well, Quaraun. We are. Sunta and I are lovers. But I don't think you'll ever meet him. Sunta is... apprehensive.”

“Undoubtedly, considering he ran away when we entered.”

“We don’t receive visitors often. It’s been years, and... he was severely mutilated. His injuries... he's scarred very badly. You understand what it is to be disfigured. He doesn’t want people to look at him. His face... He can’t talk.”

“He is mute?”

“Something like that. They cut out his tongue.”

“That's cruel. How do you communicate?”'

“It seems irrelevant since you didn't know of his existence five minutes ago. I’m a Thullid. Remember? We have no need of tongues for speech.”

“The hive mind. Do you have that now?”

“Yes. And so does he.”

“He is a Thullid as well?”

Gremlin nodded.

“I expect we are the last two Thullids left alive. Humans mass massacred the Thullids.”

Gremlin made his way to the stairs.

“Sunta,” he called up. “Come down. It’s Unicorn. You’ll like to see Unicorn. I know you would.”

Gremlin waited a moment, then returned to the others.

“I don’t think he’ll come down. He’s easily frightened. Like a little jackrabbit.”

“You always called me that.”

“Well, not many people out there with foot long ears, is there? Rather unique feature of yours. Does it upset you, I call someone else a jackrabbit?”

Quaraun ignored the question.

“Does he know Unicorn?”

Gremlin nodded, then sat down in his red armchair.

“You still have that chair.”

“Yes, and in the garage, you'll find I still have the 1974 AMC Gremlin. I'm a creature of habit. I don't like change.”

“You're also a hermit who doesn't go outside other than to rewrite your future by disrupting your past.”

Gremlin glanced over at GhoulSpawn.

“And I'm disrupting your life GhoulSpawn?”

Quaraun didn't give GhoulSpawn a chance to answer.

“How did you find someone to live with you? I was of the impression, you were absolutely, completely, and insanely obsessed with me? I wouldn't think you would even consider making time for anyone else.”

“I don't. I'm still obsessed with you Quaraun. That hasn't changed. It never will. I do love you. That was never a lie. I still do.”

“But I died.”

“You died. You both died. You and Unicorn. And I was left alone.”

“You went to the ends of the world to change history and try to bring me back.”

“I did.”

“And now you live with someone else?”

“You didn’t come here to talk about Sunta. Why are you here? What do you want?”

“To go home.”

“Home. I remember home. I suppose I should remember being here with you, visiting me. It is my past after all.”

“Do you remember coming here?”

“Sunta?” Gremlin called upstairs again. “Do we remember visiting us?”

Gremlin waited for an answer but got none.

“No. We don’t recall visiting us. But we had a lobotomy. More than once. We don’t remember much any more. Either of us. Me or Sunta. Poor Sunta. They tortured him.”

“Who did?”

“White Rock. He was in White Rock as well. We both were. He’s alive. But after what they did to him... I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”

“Would you like tea? I will make us some tea.”

Gremlin got up and disappeared through a side door, returning moments later.

“Water is on the stove.”

***(several pages of this chapter are removed for this sample, to jump to the end of the chapter)***

“Why should I believe you?”

“I can show you, your father. He lives with Roderic. You’ll need to go there to get HellBorne’s book. Roderic has it.”

“Erasing their memories... that feels wrong.”

“They love you. They’ll kill me, when you die, if you don’t.”

“They won’t remember loving me.”

“They loved you once. They’ll love you again.”


~o0o~


Later that night, Quaraun, Unicorn, and GhoulSpawn were sitting beside a campfire, deciding what to do next.

“He said we don’t need Black Tower to use the portals at Black Tower,” GhoulSpawn said.

“Aye,” Unicorn replied. “But does ya not need de books what was in Black Tower to open de portals?”

“Yeah.”

“Can’t you just open the portals?” Quaraun asked.

“No.”

“Gremlin does.”

“Yeah, well, I’m sorry I’m not a thousand year old psychopath yet. I’m 19 and I’ve never done that way before.”

“At some point you learn to. Perhaps that’s now?”

“Yeah, and at some point I lose my freaking mind. Perhaps that’s now too?”

“Ghouly what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Yes. Something. You’re upset. Did I do something to upset you?”

“No.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“Gremlin.”

“Did he say something? After we left? It was quite some time before you came out.”

“He said a lot of crazy stuff.”

“What did he say that upset you?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Then we should talk about how we’re going to get back home.”

“I DON’T WANT TALK ABOUT THAT EITHER!”

GhoulSpawn stood up and ran away from Quaraun. Then he paced back and forth along the road for a while, pulling branches off trees and throwing them.

Quaraun watch the teenager for a few minutes before getting up and walking up to him.

“Ghouly? You okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“I wasn’t trying to start an argument with you.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Come back and sit down with us. Please.”

GhoulSpawn once again joined Quaraun and Unicorn by the fire.

“What would happen if we didn’t go back?” GhoulSpawn asked.

“I don’t we could live out of our correct time forever. It’d start to effect us. Why do ask?”

~From "GhoulSpawn and the Lich Lord's Lover" (Volume 22 of The Quaraun Series)





While there are around 20k pages on this website, most of them are blocked from search engines, with only around 800 of them available for appearing in Google/Bing/etc search results. The remainder can only be accessed via the various links found throughout this site. This was done deliberately on my part, and I did it because the bulk of the pages on this website are chapters from 138 novels and 423 novellas, so only the first page of each novel and novella indexed by search engines, and the remainder are linked in order, one page at a time, via clicking "next page" at the end of each. So if you are looking for a specific page from a specific novel, Google can't help you.



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Wendy Christine Allen 🌸💖🦄 aka EelKat 🧿💛🔮👻
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Wheelchair Fundraiser

@eelkat

i just found out there is yet another bizarre rumour going around. where are these wild rumours coming from? who is starting them? and why?

♬ original sound - Wendy C Allen | 📚 Author
@eelkat

since I've been flooded with hundreds of messages the past two weeks asking if I still own "the world's most haunted car", yes, and here it is, filmed today May 18, 2026… but my son Xavier is dead, i am crippled and given that people are AGAIN showing up calling my Dodge "haunted", calling my friend "an alien", calling me "transgender", and spreading wild defamation slander connecting me to Stephen King, I think I need to start taking down the contact information of every blogger, podcaster, youtuber, and social media account spreading these rumors, and sue every single one of them for CAUSING my car to be cut in half May 10, 2010, for CAUSING the backhoe that drove over my house August 8, 2013, for CAUSING my son's murder November 14, 2013, for CAUSING me to be crippled and in a wheelchair November 14, 2013, and for CONTINUING to CAUSE harassers to show up in person to harass me near daily, STILL now in 2026. EVERYONE telling you my car is haunted, telling you my friend is an alien, calling my car "the goldeneagle", calling my friend "Etiole", or trying to connect me or my car to Stephen King, is lying to you. They crippled me when I was 8 months pregnant, and a woman with a golf club, severed my spine and bashed my baby's head in, I spent 9 years relearning to walk, and the FBI is 13 years into the murder investigation and not yet identified the attacker who crippled me and killed my baby, both violently with a golf club and the FBI believes that it is friends and family of the woman who did it, are the ones who started and spread the rumors saying my car is haunted, saying I'm an alien abductee, saying all kinds of similar bs about aliens, ufos, ghosts, witchcraft, demons, and Stephen King connections, even though I don't believe in ghosts, aliens, ufos, demons, and had never heard of Stephen King before 30k of his fans showed up in my yard trying to find my car! FBI believes the backhoe driver and the murderer are the same person and it is a developer who wanted my land and so started the Stephen King, ghost, and alien rumors all in an attempt to drive me off my land, and when it didn't work they drove a backhoe over my house, and when that didn't work they crippled me and killed my son. Why are they doing this? How do I get them to stop?

♬ original sound - Wendy C Allen | 📚 Author






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Get an email whenever Wendy Christine Allen 🌸💖🦄 aka EelKat 🧿💛🔮👻 publishes on Medium.

I also write on these locations: | Amazon | Ao3 | Blogger | GumRoad | Medium | Notd | OnlyFans | Tumblr | Vocal |



Do you know who drove this backhoe over my house at 146 Portland Avenue, Old Orchard Beach, Maine on August 8, 2013? If you have any information, please give it to FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 of the Portland, Maine FBI office.

My house at 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine, July 4, 2013, photo taken because we had just finished building a baby room on the back. vs My house August 8, 2013, when the same group of people (yes group, the golf club woman was not alone when she attacked November 14, 2013, nor was she alone with her second attack July 2016.) who murdered my son on November 14, 2013 at Southern Maine Community College and crippled me July 26, 2016 at scarborough WalMart,... they arrived the first time with a backhoe on August 8, 2013, that they used to drive over my house, during a time of day that I normally was home asleep... I had to work a different shift at the Waffle Cone Pizza Food Truck at George's Parking Lot by Bill's Pizza at the OBB Peir, that day, otherwise, I too would be at the bottom of a landfill, along with my house and everything I owned that was also in the house. I was 5 months pregnant at the time and have been homeless for just under 14 years, homeless ever since....

... which means it is now only a few weeks from the 14th anniversary of my son's murder. I was 8 month pregnant November 14, 2013, and a student ay SMCC, and coming out of the Buglight Lighthouse art studio after art class, when a still unidentifiedwoman wielding a golf club attacked me, severed my spine, while I was 8 months pregnant, triggered early labour, then killed my son minutes after he was born.

While accusing me of being transgender, screaming "transvestite freak" and "look at that thing, that's Ken's son in a dress"... while I was 8 months pregnant.

eelkats_house_before_after.jpgMy house at 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine, July 4, 2013, photo taken because we had just finished building a baby room on the back. vs My house August 8, 2013, when the same group of people (yes group, the golf club woman was not alone when she attacked November 14, 2013, nor was she alone with her second attack July 2016.) who murdered my son and crippled me, arrived the first time with a backhoe that they used to drive over my house, during a time of day that I normally was home asleep... I had to work a different shift at the Waffle Cone Pizza Food Truck at George's Parking Lot by Bill's Pizza at the OBB Peir, that day, otherwise, I too would be at the bottom of a landfill, along with my house and everything I owned that was also in the house. I was 5 months pregnant at the time and have been homeless for just under 14 years, homeless ever since.

The backhoe driver returned November 14, 2013, armed with a golf club, used it to break my spine and smash my baby's brains out on the ground

On November 14, 2013, my son was murdered. I was 8 months pregnant, leaving my college classroom, and just getting into my car, when 3 strangers, a man and two women, armed with golf clubs leapt out from behind my car screaming "kill or be killed, kill the transvestite freaks, kill them all before they kill us! look at that thing! That is Ken's son, look at how it's dressed! kill the transvestite freaks! kill or be killed"... while the bald man and the red haired woman chanted this over and over, the blonde woman, lunged with the golf club.

She severed my spine, I am now a quadriplegic, and been paralyzed arms and legs, and in a wheelchair for 13 years now. She broke my hips, my knees, my legs, ruptured most of my discs, and shattered three of my vertebrae so bad that the shards of bone acted like glass and embedded themselves into my spinal column nerve bundle.

The attack also triggered labour.

My son was born in that parking lot, and he lived only a couple of minutes, before the deranged blonde woman, beat his head in and smashed his brains out, with the same golfclub she had just used to sever my spine and leave me crippled for the rest of my life.

Realizing that I was not transgender, and they'd just murdered a baby, the man grabbed the 2 women and forcibly dragged them away to a 4 door white pickup truck, and they left me there to die.

The FBI told me later, that a few weeks before this attack, and transwoman, had murdered a cis woman, in a parking lot, abou 20 miles away from where I was attacked. The FBI, believes that my attackers, had somehow found out I wrote transgender fiction, connecting my real name to my penname, (my father's name is in fact "Ken", and I do have a brother) and believed that I wrote transgender fiction, because I was myself transgender, even though I'm not transgender. The FBI, believes the attackers, thought I was my brother, pretending to be a woman.

The FBI investigation, into my son's murder, has dragged on for 13 years, and still now in 2026, continues on, with the FBI, still not having yet identified my attackers, and only guessing at what their motive was.

Thus we come to 2014, and the full swing change of the series I write. WHY my series, went from just a transman main character living life, to the full blown Mpreg genre series that it now is today.

Before the attack, I had a chance of having a baby. I don't know. And because I'm in America, I'm too old to adopt. You have to be under 45 years old to adopt a baby. That is the law in America. I was informed this, when we tried to adopt, now that my injuries leave me unable to get pregnant a 9th time.

Thus began my obsessively writing, my transman main character, pregnant. Always pregnant now. Every time. Every story. Stories that now fully focus on pregnancy, labour, miscarriages, babies dying, babies living, raising babies... the whole series, since 2014 has devolved into an outright baby obsession.

Meanwhile, reborn baby dolls were suggested to me by my therapist, and have also become a deeply obsessive part of my life. Because 13 years ago my son was murdered minutes after he was born, because a transphobic bigot mistook me for being transgender, I'm STILL in a wheelchair, struggling to relearn to use my arms and legs, now 13 years later, and I'm still DAILY dealing with police officers and FBI agents who while they are trying to find my son's killer, they are also daily reminding me... oh, yeah, my son was murdered, literally ripped out of my belly, by a transphobe. Who still has not been located and walks free to kill again.

The golfclub woman as she looked during the golf club attack at Southern Maine community college November 14, 2013. She is about 20 to 30 years older then me and would be around 75 to 85 years old now in 2026.

Clairescreenshot.pngIf you have any information about the identity of this child murderer, please call FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322

The golfclub woman as she looked during the shopping cart attack at Scarborough WalMart July 26, 2016. She is about 20 to 30 years older then me and would be around 75 to 85 years old now in 2026.

zzzz999ClaireRed2016-screenshotIf you have any information about the identity of this child murderer, please call FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322

The 2nd woman as she looked at both attacks, her hair goes all the way down to her knees. She is about 20 to 30 years older then me and would be around 75 to 85 years old now in 2026.

Kendrascreenshot.pngIf you have any information about the identity of this child murderer's accomplice, please call FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322

Do you know who these two woman who crippled me and murdered my baby, at Southern Maine Community College at 10PM on November 14, 2013, are, and what their connection to the backhoe that drove over my house is? If you have any information, please give it to FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 of the Portland, Maine FBI office.

I am a legally blind quadriplegic, and low verbal, I have also published 138 novels in the last 48 years. It's not as impossible as people think. The problem being blind and quadriplegic, medically have different meanings then how those two words are used medically.

Fewer than 3% of all blind people see nothing. While 97% people who are classified as fully blind are able to see up to two feet in front of them. Legally blind means I can see more then two feet in front of me but not far enough to see twenty feet in front of me. In my case I can see about eight feet.

Quadriplegic, has varying levels, it means having a damaged nerve bundle in the spinal column causing limited mobility of all 4 limbs, (in my case this was done by a women wielding a golf club, who also beat my 8 month infant's head to pulp on the parking lot tarmak, at the same time she severed my spine with the same golf club; both on November 14, 2013; the FBI investigation into my son's murder and my being crippled has gone on now for 13 years, a few weeks away from 14 years now, and the FBI has still not identified the killer or her motive). Contrary to popular misconception, quadriplegic does NOT mean ZERO movement, it means means limited movement, specifically in means unable to lift arms over head, unable to grip fingers around objects to pick them up, and unable to stand for more then 5 minutes to a time. Because there are so many thousands of nerves in each limb it is actually very rare for there to be 100% no movement, but how much, and to what extent varies by patent depending upon the specific point of injury to the spinal column.

Meaning typing is still possible for over 60% of all quadriplegics.

In my case, it was the lower spine that was severed, cutting off completly my ability to move my right leg, leaving limited feeling in my left leg, and an ability to stand but not walk, with crutches, for the first 9 years. I regained enough nerve growth in my legs by the 9th year to be able to take ten or twelve steps allowing me to get out of bed for the first time since the golf club attack; This in turn lead to me being able to start using a wheelchair, as I was able to sit upright for the first time as well.

Because the shattered vertebrae bone fragments are broken off completly and embedded into the nerve bundle just above my tailbone, doctors were saying I would never walk again, but now at 13 years, I am able to push mu wheelchair like a walker, a distance of almost a thousand steps a day. Though doctors are still doubtful I will ever walk "normally" again, I have proven them wrong, when their said 13 years ago, that I would never walk again at all.

But because of the placement of the damage to my spine, regaining hand use, was always thought possible, it was just a matter of waiting long enough for nerve regrowth, along side daily finger exercises. I was able to continue writing, after becoming quadriplegic, because I still have use of my right thumb, and 2 fore figures of my right hand. And can type 90 words per minute with those 3 fingers.

I however have no wrist strength, elbow strength, or shoulder strength, so I am not able to form a fist, or lift objects, or brush my hair, or my teeth, all thing I have to have my caretaker do. But, those things are not needed for typing. Unfortunately, my pinky and ring fingers are "nerve dead" and drag over the keyboard, and cause horrific spelling errors and typos, which are incredibly frustrating to deal with.

Unfortunately trying to edit errors myself, just makes the errors worse, because those same two fingers drag over the keyboard yet again. Prior to the golf club attack, I rarely had spelling errors; now I got more spelling errors then someone is learning English as second language. Editing is a challenge, that I've had to accept, I simply can not do myself, and I have to hire several editors to help with that.

Low verbal means sounds can still be made, sounds that software programs like Dragon can be trained to recognize and translate, and type into full words. More then half my novels were typed with this method.

I still have a long ways to go before I am anything close to being able to do the things I could do before the golf club woman beat my baby's brains out and shattered my spine. And you know what's more frustrating then how slow mu medical progression has been? The fact that it's been 13 years and the police and FBI are still coming up at dead ends as to who the woman who murdered my baby was, or why she even did it.

My son's 14th birthday is only a few weeks away, but he didn't even get to live long enough to celebrate his 1st birthday, I don't even know why. And I can't wait to regain my ability to walk again, because regaining my ability to walk, means gaining the ability to go outside and start looking for my son's murderer myself instead of sitting at home trapped in a wheelchair waiting for the police and FBI to to find her. So, writing isn't a big priority for me anymore. I only write now, as a way to exercise my hands, in between relearning to walk.

Never let a disability stop you. Plenty of writers, artists, athletes, do not let either blindness, speech impediments, or limited mobility hold then back from perusing their careers.

Do you know who these two woman who crippled me and murdered my baby, at Southern Maine Community College at 10PM on November 14, 2013, are, and what their connection to the backhoe that drove over my house is? If you have any information, please give it to FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 of the Portland, Maine FBI office.

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