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

The Terror Bird

{A Pink Necromancer Story} — {NaNoWriMo 2024: Day 09}

Wendy Christine Allen 🌸💖🦄 aka EelKat 🧿💛🔮👻10 min read·Nov 9, 2024

Dark pines rustled under a bone-white sky as the three travelers walked deeper into the dense, frost-stung woodlands.

Frigid breath of pine mist hung in damp clusters around them, settling in crevices, thick and eerie. The faint glow of an aurora lay trapped between spectral trees, shifting silently.

Unnatural.

As if the aurora hid something in its bleeding light.

Quaraun, BoomFuzzy, and GhoulSpawn were harvesting and gathering wild edibles.

Mushrooms.

Wild roots.

Pine needles.

Pin cones.

Pine nuts.

The usual fair.

They came to The Forest of No Return often. They knew it well, and felt safe, letting their guard down to bicker and squabble as they often did. BoomFuzzy tried to teach GhoulSpawn how to tell edible mushrooms from toxic one, while Quaraun pranced about avoiding smudges of dirt.

They hunted herbs and roots and gathered pine needles; listening to BoomFuzzy’s low voice, guiding them through nature’s cryptic offerings. His fingers brushed a slender mushroom, its edges glistening wetly in the dim light.

“That one, lads. Do not touch that one. It’ll rot ya inside.”

Quaraun, with his usual gentility, examined the woods in search of beauty; only occasionally handing strange plants to BoomFuzzy’s hands.

Nearby, GhoulSpawn stomped the snow with far less caution, scurrying between pines like an unruly sheepdog.

Snow-pine scent clung to them, soaking their breaths in pine-laden dread, each inhalation holding some indefinable danger.

An effigy of silent fear loomed between these peaceful moments. The dread felt… old.

Deep-rooted in the bark and bones of this forgotten forest.

BoomFuzzy paused, his head tilting slightly, his fingertips brushing the air as if sensing something distant.

The ground shook around him.

Ripples trembled in the water.

He froze, standing statue-still.

“What is it, Unicorn?” Quaraun whispered.

“A sound,” BoomFuzzy muttered, his face rigid.

“I hear it. What is it?”

“Heavy… Inhuman. A hunter’s walk. Big. Very, very, VERY BIG!”

GhoulSpawn stopped moving, peering into the stillness. His eyes caught on the silhouette of a monstrous avian shape in the distance, crouching between frozen boughs.

An aura of absolute malevolence clung to the creature.

Black feathers, each feather the size of his arm, glossed under the broken aurora, talons sharp and serrated, claws digging into snow-caked ground. A huge hooked beak the size of deer.

It loomed — an effigy of death.

Quaraun’s grip tightened on his cane, breath halting in his throat.

A low shriek sliced through the air, primal and furious.

The beast surged forward, every inch of its feathered monstrosity exposed — a Terror Bird, claws thundering across the forest floor, its merciless beak gleaming as if in sick pleasure.

Sharp.

Ravenous.

“Run!” GhoulSpawn screamed, scrambling to Quaraun’s side, clutching his arm, and pulling him from the thunderous path of talons and beak.

Quaraun staggered, his leg slow, his breath shaky.

BoomFuzzy clutched Quaraun’s sleeve, his own steps less certain in his blindness, trusting GhoulSpawn’s frantic guidance.

The earth shook beneath their feet as the monstrous bird thundered behind them.

Dark feathers glistened in the dappled light, its grotesque hooked beak opening wide, screeching with rage.

Towering ten feet, it closed the gap with swift, heavy steps.

Its taloned feet, like obsidian scythes, tore at the ground.

BoomFuzzy’s breath grew ragged. He grabbed Quaraun, urging him forward.

The Terror Bird’s piercing red eye locked onto them, unwavering.

They ran, stumbling over roots. But the creature stayed on their heels, its hungry gaze filled with an unholy gleam of anticipation.

Snow churned in spiralling gusts around them as they fled.

Pine branches scratched their skin, slicing into them as they stumbled, helpless prey under the watch of a colossal killer.

Quaraun fell as GhoulSpawn dragged him into a narrowing path between two ancient granite outcroppings.

Their lungs burned.

Hearts thundered with an echo of primal terror, louder than the roars of the bird’s fury.

Their footing failed, and they tumbled down the jagged cliff-side, rocks slicing their hands and faces. Above, the bird screeched in fury, its massive frame silhouetted against the sky.

It stopped at the cliff’s edge, flapping powerful wings in frustration, dark feathers bristling.

For a brief moment, it stared down, head tilted, red-rimmed eye blazing with insatiable hunger.

Then, without hesitation, the giant creature launched itself downward.

Skittering over the rocks.

Beak clacking as it closed the distance.

Its deadly feet pounding.

Shaking the ground.

Finding purchase on every ledge.

The chase continued, unstoppable, as the relentless Terror Bird descended upon them.

Ahead, GhoulSpawn caught sight of a shallow cave. A crumbling slit of granite, black and damp, half-hidden behind frozen moss and clumps of pine roots. He threw himself against the stone, fumbling to usher the others inside.

“Get in!”

The three barely wedged themselves inside, the close space choking them with its damp, frigid air.

Quaraun collapsed against the rough stone, panting, heart beating in strangled terror. The old Elf scarcly able to breathe.

BoomFuzzy held his hand, fingers gripped around his wrist with desperate pressure.

The monstrous bird struck the entrance, thrusting its beak and talons through the narrow opening.

Splinters of stone burst in a chaotic spray, razor shards dancing through the air. It shrieked again, slamming itself against the granite with a frenzy of desperate hunger.

Inside, huddled in the damp, they watched in horror as that monstrous effigy clawed and thrashed.

The bird was no animal — this was something older, foul, haunted by curses unknown.

Eyes bulged in the crimson glow of its insatiable gaze. It seemed to pulse with the cold aurora’s light, an ancient guardian of the forest’s blackest depths, a living relic of the forgotten dead.

Panic threatened to seize GhoulSpawn.

“That… that thing isn’t supposed to exist anymore. Phorusrhacid. A Terror Bird. They… they’re supposed to be extinct! They lived in the age of dinosaurs!”

“Some things never truly vanish, Goat.” BoomFuzzy’s voice dropped to a trembling murmur. “Not in this era where all dead things rise. Things that lurk between memory and madness. Evil… it keeps. Finds ways to crawl back.”

“You mean it’s zombie?”

“Aye. But not one like I’ve encountered before.”

The Terror Bird let out a vicious screech that sent waves of dread ricocheting through the narrow cave, rattling down their spines. The aurora’s glow outside flickered erratically, its twisted beams illuminating the horror pressed against their hiding place.

Its beak clamped against the stone opening, hacking and grinding in brutal, rhythmic slashes, intent on reaching them.

Quaraun’s gaze stayed locked on the monstrous bird.

Paralyzed by its hate-filled eyes.

Their sickly gleam hollow with a malignancy beyond death.

They bore through him, seeing past skin, reaching his soul, wrapping him in a suffocating dread.

The creature’s hollowed eyes held an unfathomable madness.

Undead.

The risen UnDead of the fossilized Terror Bird.

Brought back to life to bring terror once again!

Echoing across centuries of rot.

A living fossil.

A zombie like none other!

In the dim safety of the cave, they caught their breath, but a new horror emerged.

The pointed end of its monstrous beak appeared, scraping along the stone, sending sparks.

Its black eye, rimmed with blood red, peered in, sweeping the darkness, searching.

Then the beak withdrew, and two taloned toes dug into the entrance, scratching furiously.

It snorted, flared its nostrils, then thrust its head into the gap, feathers rippling as it tried to fit.

They shrank back, terrified as the giant claws scraped the stone floor, the monstrous beak snapping inches from their faces.

GhoulSpawn bit his lip, squeezing Quaraun’s shoulder with trembling fingers.

“We can’t… it can’t… it’s going to get in.”

BoomFuzzy raised his head, lips drawn thin, voice barely a murmur.

“Hush now, Glinta. It won’t… if it gets us, it gets us. So be it. There nothin’ we can do about it.”

The words hovered in the damp air, stark in the suffocating silence. The beast paused, its black feathers shifting disturbed by something unseen.

It shrieked again, fiercer, its fury vibrating through the cavern, its claws scraping against granite with bone-jarring violence.

Quaraun clung to BoomFuzzy, knuckles white against the dark of his lover’s cloak. GhoulSpawn clung to Quaraun. The three of them huddled together.

Trapped.

Terrified.

But then, as if sensing their terror, the bird ceased.

It lingered, jaws clamped against the stone entrance, tasting the scent of prey with maddened greed.

It shoved its beak in once more, talons rattling against stone in a fiendish, final assault.

And then… silence.

The hulking creature paused, stood still, the only movement a faint tremor beneath the feathered shroud. Its head cocked to the side, an eerie stillness filling the air.

Its black eyes stared into the cave.

Penetrating the stone shadows.

Capturing their gazes.

Enslaving their minds with an ancient, primordial malice.

They waited, frozen by its stare.

Too scared to move.

Too scared to breathe.

Then, with deliberate, disdainful grace, it turned.

The terrible effigy walked away, leaving them buried in the heavy shroud of terror and exhaustion.

Its silhouette disappeared into the pines, swallowed by the ghostly aurora, melding with the dark until all that remained was silence.

Quaraun shivered against the damp stone, BoomFuzzy’s fingers cold in his grasp.

No words left them.

No sounds breached the void.

They dare not move for fear the Terror Bird would hear them and return.

The spectre had left… but its eyes, its hungry soul, clung to their minds, their hearts.

Beating.

Pounding.

Full of fear.

It lingered.

Bound forever to their memory.

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.