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Quaraun The Insane:
Volume 1:  
The Night of The Screaming Unicorn
The Lich's True Form Revealed 

The Night of The Screaming Unicorn
Final Chapter 
The Lich's True Form Revealed 

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By Wendy C Allen

f you are here looking for aliens, ufos, demons, cryptids, haunted cars, curses, Etiole, the wild man of old orchard beach, the goldeneagle car, the white monkey, or any of that other weird bullshit, you want this video:

...and after that video, you want these ones:

@eelkat #etiole #homelesspeople #homelessness #homelessinmaine #homeless #oldorchardbeach #maine #forest #leanto #homelesslivesmatter #homelessman #den #hermit #mainehermit #mainemountainman #mountainmen #mainelife #mainelifestyle #mainehomeless #homelesscommunity #homelesscrisis #homelessveteran #homelessveteranawareness #homelessawareness #homelesselder #homelesselderly ♬ original sound - Wendy C Allen | 📚 Author

@eelkat 1964 #Dodge 330 that people call "Goldeneagle" or "world's most haunted car" #maine #artcar #volvo #antiquecars ♬ original sound - Wendy C Allen | 📚 Author

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.

Coming soon (Nov/Dec 2026)... patterns for my slow stitched embroidery:

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.

I shouldn't have to say this, but people keep contacting me, so apparently I do:

• No, I do not believe in aliens. Stop contacting me to ask for alien information. If you believe in aliens, I think you are insane, retarded, or both.

• No, my car is not haunted. I've debunked that rumour many times now. . Stop contacting me to ask for haunted car information. If you believe in haunted cars, I think you are insane, retarded, or both.

• No, I am not connected to Stephen King. I didn't even know who he was until you idiots started contacting me asking about him. I had to look him up on Google to find out what you were even talking about! If you have questions about Stephen King, go contact him and ask him. I'm not him. I don't know him. I know nothing about him. I've never read one of his books. I've never seen one of his movies. I can't figure out why you people are even coming to me to ask about him in the first place!

1. If someone told you I believe in aliens, if someone told you my car was haunted, if someone told you I was connected to Stephen King, you NEED to contact the FBI agent in charge of my son's murder investigation and TELL HIM WHO it was who told ou, exactly WHAT it was they said, HOW they contacted you, WHERE they contacted you... because it is a KNOWN FACT that my son's murderer is the one who started all these slanderous alien, haunted car, Stephen King rumours, and the FBI is trying to catch her.

If you have any information about my son’s murderer, please give it to FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 of the Portland, Maine FBI office.

Do you know who this woman is?

On August 8, 2013 she drove a backhoe over my house. On November 14, 2013 she arrived at Southern Maine Community College and crippled me with a golf club and murdered my son. One June 24, 2016, days after my first attempts to walk again, she attacked me with a shopping cart at Scarborough, Walmart, reinjuring the Nov 14, 2013 injury.

She crippled me when I was 8 months pregnant, 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 id-ed the attacker who crippled me and killed my baby, both violently with a golf club.

Complete details of EVERYTHING she did is on this page here.

The golf club woman who called herself Clair as she looked November 14, 2013. Her hair is a weird chin leangth pageboy (very Medival style cut) platinum blonde with wide brown/black dyed stripes in it (like a reverse of Lily Munster, but the stripes are several, almost like a zebra). I am 5'6" and she was a LOT taller then me, like closer to the height of a man; she had thin lips like a man, and large nose like a man... she COULD have been a man disguised as a woman, given the ease with which she severed my spine....she's is a LOT stronger then is typical for a woman). She was wearing a chambre blue denim "blazer jacket over shirt" and a button up mens shirt (possibly flannel) and blue jeans. The bulk of her yelling was focused on accusing me of being transgender, even while ripping my baby out of my 8 month pregnant belly and bashing his head in with a golf club.

The Claire woman as she looked during her shoping cart attack at Scarborough WalMart June 2016, the attack with left me paralyzed and in a wheelchair. Her hair was dyed dark red, and she drove away in a gold Volvo 240 Station Wagon of a late 1980s/early1990s model, with a "458" on the lisnce plate.... If you have any information about the woman who crippled me with a golf club, please give it to FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 of the Portland, Maine FBI office.

@eelkat part 9 of 10 #dogwalk around the block (Maine st, Elm st, South street, Bradbury st) #Biddeford #Maine #night #fbiinvestigation #truecrimetiktok ♬ original sound - Wendy C Allen | 📚 Author

If you have any information about the woman who crippled me with a golf club, please give it to FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 of the Portland, Maine FBI office.

Good god! We just found out about yet another slanderous rumour this woman has been spreading? When does it end? How many more of these things are out there?

Video explains what else she's done ...

If you have any information about the woman who crippled me with a golf club, please give it to FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 of the Portland, Maine FBI office.

If you encounter anyone claiming my car is haunted, demon possessed, or somehow connected to Stephen King please give the information of who, when, where/location to FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 of the Portland, Maine FBI office. @eelkat part 7 of 10 #dogwalk around the block (Maine st, Elm st, St Mary's, Dunkin, South street, Bradbury st) #Biddeford #Maine #night #plannedparenthood ♬ original sound - Wendy C Allen | 📚 Author If you encounter anyone claiming I believe in aliens or was an alien abducttee, please give the information of who, when, where/location to FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 of the Portland, Maine FBI office.

@eelkat part 4 of 10 #dogwalk around the block (Maine st, Elm st, St Mary's, Dunkin, South street, Bradbury st) #Biddeford #Maine #night #library ♬ original sound - Wendy C Allen | 📚 Author If you know who drove this backhoe over my house at 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine 04064-1520 on August 8, 2013 please give the information of who it is to FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 of the Portland, Maine FBI office. If you know who drove this backhoe over my house at 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine 04064-1520 on August 8, 2013 please give the information of who it is to FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 of the Portland, Maine FBI office.

I am sick and tired of people not giving a shit that my son was murdered!

I am sick and tired of jackasses making up rumours and lies about me and my car, calling me an alien abductee and my car haunted, just to try to cover up my son's murder!

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The Night of The Screaming Unicorn
Final Chapter 
The Lich's True Form Revealed 

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The Night of The Screaming Unicorn
Final Chapter 
The Lich's True Form Revealed 

Quaraun opened his eyes. The sun was shining over head. For a moment he forgot where he was, until he turned over and saw a tiny little black Shetland pony, with claws instead of hooves, long fangs, and a silver horn, laying, curled on its side, peacefully sleeping beside him. It was a tiny little horse, no bigger then a Golden Retriever. Quaraun sat up and looked around. He groaned from the sharp pain in his neck and groin. He would not quickly forget last night's encounter. Or was it last night? The pain in his side was gone. Quaraun checked his ribs. The wound was healed. He wondered how many nights had passed since he'd arrived. A single night in the Realm of Fae could have been decades in Earth time.

Quaraun looked around him. He was not in the oubliette any more. He was outside, in the blueberry plains at the edge of the forest, back near the fallen tree where he had started. The forest was not nearly as dense as it had been before, nor the fog as thick, nor the ruins as tall and menacing. Everything looked smaller, less frightening, less spooky, more natural, more real.

Quaraun looked back down at the Faerie. 

“BoomFuzzy,” Quaraun whispered as he stared down at the sleeping Faerie Horse.

Upon BoomFuzzy's death, the Elven candy maker's body had melted away, as one illusion after another faded, all of his many forms dissolving and melding together, until at last the true beast had been revealed. A tiny black pony, no bigger then a goat, is what BoomFuzzy had actually been. An evil marsh Unicorn, from the heaths of Scotland, that had followed the Moon Elf to the deserts of the Di'Jinn in Persia. His whole life, everywhere he went, Quaraun had been followed by a small herd of black ponies, lead by one shaggy, raggedy, scraggly, greying haired old pony with long sharp fangs, talons instead of hooves, silver eyes blinded by age, and a gleaming spiralling silver horn on it's head. 

Quaraun had seen the pony dozens of times throughout his life time. The evil Unicorn had followed him for centuries. Several times Quaraun had tried to catch it, but it always ran away. Timid, skittish, the little black Unicorn had liked to run up behind the Elf, then run away laughing hysterically. In his childhood, Quaraun had grown to think of the Unicorn as his friend. Then one day, the Unicorn came to play, no more. Weeks passed and Quaraun had feared the Unicorn dead. After several months, one day while running errands for the Di'Jinn, Quaraun found himself in a desert marketplace, passing a tent, in which he had heard the mournful cries of a horse being beaten. Inside the tent, he had found his little black Unicorn, crippled and maimed. His horn sawed off, his legs broken, shackled in Faerie Iron, and blood pouring from his gasping mouth.

To capture a Phooka was a difficult task, but this band of Chaos Demons, the Ghoul’s men, had set a trap, a virgin locked in a cage made of Faerie Iron, and once they got the pony inside, he was powerless to break free. The evil Unicorn had been tortured and was close to death. A Unicorn's power lay in it's horn. Without his horn, the horse was unable to morph, unable to fight, unable to cast illusions. Quaraun had wasted no time in rescuing the injured pony and setting it free, back out into the desert of the Di'Jinn, but from that day forth, the pony never stopped following him. Every day the pony now stayed outside the temple of the Di'Jinn and waited for the little Elfling to come out and play.

The Thullid, did not understand the Elf's need for companionship. They did not understand, the friendship between the young Elf boy and his horse. And one day, when he went to meet his pony by the river, Quaraun found the Di'Jinn waiting.

The ponies fled in terror but few escaped the wrath of the Di'Jinn and the black Unicorn watched in terror as the Thullids slaughtered his Phookan army.

The young Elf stood over the dead ponies in tears.

With the herd of ponies dead, the Thullids turned upon the little black Unicorn, that led the herd, but didn't live long enough to kill him. 

“You'll not kill my Unicorn!” 

They were the last words the Thullids heard.

The Unicorn watched as every last Di'Jinn withered away and died in horrific agony, their body's bursting into flames, and reduced to ash, under the wrath of their beloved pink Jellyfish living in the body of a very lonely Moon Elf. The Thullids had underestimated the powers of the Jelly-brained Elf, as much as they had underestimated his love for the little black Unicorn.

All life in the desert was gone, save a small Elf wearing pink Thullid silks and a tiny black Unicorn, no bigger then a goat. The dazed and confused Elf turned around and walked out of the desert, and walked clear across the planet, making his way back home to the Moon Elf village of the Deep North, while the Phooka gathered up what little remained of his army and trailed along behind.

Years passed as the pink robed wizard priest, walked across the planet and everywhere Quaraun went, rumours gathered, of the Moon Elf Necromancer in Thullid clothes, and the bodies he left behind in every village he visited. In the years it took for him to walk back home, he had gained a reputation for being the single most feared being to ever exist: more feared then the Thullids, more feared then the Lich Lords, more feared then the Elf Eater himself.

2016 extended Edition epic leangth novel cover art

300 page epic novel mass market release

And worse, was the new rumours – that where the pink Necromancer walked, the Elf Eater followed. In every city, every town, every hamlet, every village – as the pink Necromancer left, the fierce Phookan King entered, hours after the Moon's Elf's passing. King Gwallmaiic, King of the Faeries, the Elf Eater of Pepper Valley, evillest of all evils, was never far behind the pink Necromancer.

And so, Quaraun's reputation grew, as fear crept into the hearts of every being on the planet, terrified, not of the timid Moon Elf, but of the fierce blood thirsty Phooka that shadowed his every move.

And then it stopped.

Quaraun had returned home, and days after his arrival, a gingerbread house fell from the sky. BoomFuzzy's candy shop. The strange little Elf, with soulless black eyes, turned silver with age, sharp fangs, and demonic claws. Quaraun knew immediately BoomFuzzy was a Phooka, shifted into Elf form. He knew it was his Unicorn, now taking a physical form which allowed the two to be lovers. For 30 years the two lived together and would have lived happily ever after, had Quaraun's father not thought to break up the union. The devastated Moon Elf found his beloved BoomFuzzy dying in a pool of blood, too late to save him, from a Lich making ritual. As the spell took the life from BoomFuzzy's body, Quaraun had watched the illusion slip away, and the little black unicorn, die in horrific agony.

And with that his life long friend was gone. 

A Lich rose up in his place. An evil Lich, unlike any Lich before it. A Lich that slaughtered millions and had no memory of the life he'd lived with the Elf.

For two hundred years, the poor devastated Elf studied everything he could find onLiches, travelling to the ends of the earth to gather up any knowledge he could of Phookas, Unicorns, and Liches, searching desperately for a way to undo the Lich spell and restore the life back to his one true love.

One day, he took one of the Lich's phylacteries, made a golem out of ice, and cast a piece of BoomFuzzy's soul into it. The little ice pony galloped off, leaving the Elf to think he had failed once again, but unbeknownst to him, this time something worked, and the Lich was reverted back into a physical flesh and blood body, once again able to touch and feel and eat and sleep and live again. Thus King Gwallmaiic, turned BoomFuzzy, turned Unicorn, was now a Lich living within a physical body, once again alive and now reunited with his dearly beloved Moon Elf.

Quaraun looked down at the sleeping pony, laying beside him. There was no question, this was BoomFuzzy. He could not explain it, but he knew it was true. BoomFuzzy was back. Alive again. And a Lich. BoomFuzzy was now a Lich. An evil, horrible Lich that had slaughtered millions. It tore at Quaraun's heart, his love for BoomFuzzy and the knowing that this was also the most feared, bloodiest monster to ever live.

Unicorn was sound asleep. The Phooka was totally unmorphed now, lost in a deep, relaxed, restful sleep. The illusions were gone. He couldn't maintain them in his sleep. The trickster Fae beside him, was vastly changed from the monstrous beast he had seen last night, or whatever night it had been. While the claws and fangs remained, the rest of the Phooka's features looked far more frail now. And old. Very old. Incredibly old beyond belief. Quaraun suddenly realized that this Faerie horse was truly ancient, perhaps thousands of years old.

And with that thought, Quaraun suddenly realized that this was his chance to escape. More then escape...the monster, the Lich, was in a deep tranquil sleep, he could easily kill it while it slept. Quaraun had never seen a live Phooka fully unmorphed before, but he knew that in it's true form a Phooka was a Faerie Horse, a water horse from the Realm of Fae, similar to a Kelpie and related to a Unicorn. Quaraun suspected the small, clawed, fanged, horned pony laying asleep beside him, was in fact the Phooka's true form. It felt safe. It's guard was down, Quaraun could kill it while it slept and be free to leave.

Quaraun reached into the little embroidered heart hanging from his belt and pulled out a jewelled obsidian dagger. He put the black bladed dagger to the Faerie's throat about to cut it's head off, but something stopped him.

"Faerie blood," Quaraun muttered to himself. "It's a valuable thing. Very useful. The Phylacteries of the Lich Lords...I need the blood of a Fae for that. The trouble is how to get it. These things must be done properly or the spell won't work."

 Quaraun knelt over the sleeping Faerie for several minutes, thinking what to do and how to best do it.

"The Elf-Eater of Pepper Valley. That's what he specialized in. Killing Faeries, using their blood. He's one of the Lich Lord's now, only Faerie blood can open his phylactery," Quaraun muttered to himself. "Oh my poor BoomFuzzy. What to do with you? I love you. I can't kill you."

Quaraun sat beside the sleeping Phooka, still holding the dagger over it's throat.

"The Obsidian Idol..." Quaraun exclaimed, louder than he had intended.

"What twere that?"

Quaraun glanced back down at the Phooka who was now awake, and staring up at the jewelled dagger in Quaraun's hand.

"Would ya kill me in me sleep?" Asked the Phooka as he sat up, pushing Quaraun's hand aside.

"Is this your true form?"

"Aye. This what I really look like. There be no illusions now."

"You're a horse?"

"No. I is a unicorn. There's a horn on me head. Did ya miss seeing that? I have claws instead of hooves. Fangs instead of teeth. I is a Phooka. Cousin to the Kelpie. A type of unicorn. We Phookas is Swamp Unicorns. We haunt brackish water swamps along the coast. We has black fur instead of white. Long shaggy fur instead of short, smooth and slick. And me horn is silver instead of gold. I is a Phooka. A type of Unicorn."

"Unicorns went extinct."

"I know. I was the last one to die. I tried to hold on, but does ya know how depressing  it is to be the last of ya kind? Of corse ya do. Ya be Quaraun the Insane, last of the Moon Elves."

"Why are you letting me see your true form?"

"I had not intended to. I old and weak. It difficult for me to hold me illusions now. I fell asleep. Ya woke up before I did."

Unicorn stared at the knife in Quaraun's hand.

"Can ya not kill me in this form? I too cute and cuddly as a chubby little Shetland Pony? Do I look too sweet and harmless? Here, let me fix that."

The tiny silver horned Shetland Pony melted away, replaced by the fierce looking little wild man, whom had greeted Quuaraun at the tavern.

"This better. Easier to kill a man than a horse?"

Quaraun put his hand down.

"I'm not gonna kill you."

"No? Why not?"

"You didn't hurt me. I was wounded. Quite badly. I thought you'd kill me in my sleep. Why didn't you?"

"No reason too."

"But you eat Elves."

"Aye."

2014 novel Edition Cover Art

first mass market release 130 page short novel edition

"Why didn't eat me?"

"Half the fun of killing Elves is the chase. Chased ya for centuries. Could no kill ya once I finally caught ya. There was no sport in it. Ya was badly wounded. I think worse than ya knew. Ya would have died, had ya kept travelling on. Ya would not have made it to Inuvijk, not with that wound ya had. Yis a powerful wizard. Difficult to catch. I knew somet’ing was wrong when I caught ya. Did no realize ya was wounded. Ya should no have hiden the fact ya were wounded. I would no had been so rough with ya had I known. I did no wish to kill ya. I is a Lich. I has eternity of absolutely nothing to do. I is bored. Ya know I is over two thousand years now?"

"You was never going to hurt me were you?"

"Nay. Just wanted to finish what we started on the Road to Inuvijk, all those years ago."

"You're King Gwallmaiic."

"Aye. Ya got in me head. Strange magic ya used on me when ya did the soul bindy t'ing. I always wondered what would have happened, had I not bitten ya. How far ya would have let me go. I scared ya when I drew blood. We could have been lovers. I would have liked to been ya lover. Ya was so young back then. Where did the time go."

Tears were streaming down Quaraun's checks, as the realization of who this was, finally suck in.

"You died."

"Aye. I died. And ya blamed yarself for it. It were not ya fault. I is sorry that ya felt it was. I were very badly wounded. I were a ancient Fae. Two thousand years is long time to live. It had been long time since I fought any battles of me own. Gibedon did the fighting for me the last few decades. I had not the strength. He knew that. It were that fight with Gibedon that killed me. He wounded me. Me wound got infected. I would have died, but not quickly. I would have lingered for months in agony. The pain were getting worse. I could no walk no more. I could no take care myself. And nothing took away the pain. I killed meself to end the suffering, Quaraun. I just wanted the pain to stop. Me death was not ya fault. Ya could not have helped me and ya staying would not have stopped me. Ya do'na know how much pain I was in."

"How are you here now?"

"I is a Lich."

"I've missed you."

"I know. I felt it. We is soul bound. I feel ever t’ings ya feels. Had na reckoned on that. But I could do nothing about it. My body was like a ghost. Incorporeal."

"You've a solid body now."

"I noticed that. I think ya wished for it. Back there on the road, just before the storm. I was sitting here, in me Forest of No Return, and I saw ya reading me map, and talking about killing yaself and wishing we could be together again, before ya died. And here I am. Three hundred years of no body and now I have flesh again. Ya really wanted to be with me, quite a lot, to make this happen."

"BoomFuzzy."

"Aye. Ha ha! Crazy old half Elf. I pretended to be him for so long. Thirty years. Because ya liked him. Never wore one skin so long."

"Why are you in this form now. King Gwallmaiic. Not BoomFuzzy?” 

“Ya loved BoomFuzzy, but ya lusted for Gwallmaiic. Ya would never let BoomFuzzy in ya, because ya held on to the memories of Gwallmaiic. When he raped ya. Ya wanted to feels that again. No matter how much ya loved BoomFuzzy, Gwallmaiic was the one ya wanted inside ya. And besides, this is me natural form."

"I thought the horse was."

"Aye, they both is. I came out of me mother's womb a horse, but like all Phookas I have a Human form I can take as well. This is it. Well, this was it when I were younger. I is altering it right now to look quite a bit younger."

"The old man I saw... the blind man. That's what you look like without illusions?"

"Aye. I is old and blind. And last night, that were the first time I had sex with any one in three hundred years. Ya know who the last person I had sex with before that was?"

"Gibedon?"

"No. You. I never loved Gibedon, Quaraun. I know ya thought I did, but I did not. Yis be the one I loved. Our little encounter on the road to Inuvijk. It felt good being inside of ya. Could no get excited about anyone else after that. Became obsessed with getting back inside of ya. Does ya know where we are?"

"No."

"This is the same road. This be the Road to Inuvijk. It wild and overgrown and changed quite a lot in three hundred years, but this is it. Where we is right now. This the spot where King Gwallmaiic raped ya. I knows not, why this where I came to when I died, but it is. I t'inks I was cursed to haunted this place, until ya came back. And here ya is. Ya set me free." 

"You're BoomFuzzy."

"Aye."

"You don't look like BoomFuzzy."

"BoomFuzzy was an illusion, I made to trick an Elf. You. Him weren't never real."

"He really died."

"I know."

"Come with me."

“To where?”

“Anywhere.”

"I can'na."

"Why?"

"I does not seem to be able to leave this forest. Something binds me here.” The stared at the dagger in the Elf’s hand. “Hard to kill a Lich. But ya be the one wizard what knows how to do it. Is ya gonna to kill me? I will no stop ya."

"No," Quaraun placed the dagger back in his bag. “I don't seem to be able to hurt you.”

"Mmmmm." The Phooka nodded. "I thought not. Ya has no got it in ya. Necromancer or no, yis not evil, cruel or heartless. Eating you father that twere justice. Ya kill for love, not hate, or vengeance or malice or greed. That be why I dids no bother to tie ya up again eftah fucking ya. I does nae feel no a real sense of danger from ya. I question that ya've ever actually killed anyone. Rumours is only rumours eftah all. No way to prove them right or wrong.” 

“I've killed a lot of people. I'm a monster.”

2013 long novella extended Edition cover art

the 80 page short run edition

“How come dids ya not kill me, eh? Yis a Necromancer. Isn't killing what ya do? Elves is day creatures, Phookas is night creatures. Had ya not started talking to yaself, I probably would slept throughout entire day. Ya could easily has killed me at any time once I twere asleep. Ya thought aboot it. Ya even pulled out weapon, that usit belang to the Elf-Eater of Pepper Valley, I wonder how came by both his map and his dagger, eh? Ya were aboot to slice me throat with it, or perhaps cut out me heart, eh? Faerie hearts is a common ingredient in necromantic rituals, is they not? I know a thing or two aboot Necromancers, remember? Necromancers do that I is told, cut out folks's hearts in their sleep. Ya had a chance to, ya chose not to, how come? And what be this Obsidian Idol?"

“It's...sort of..." Quaraun suddenly changed the subject. "Why didn't you kill me in my sleep?”

"No reason to. Ya never once fought me the whole time ya twere awake. Ya could has ya know. Most powerful wizard in the world, yis. Did'na even think to pull ya Rainbow Wand on me – that could have done some real damage – I has seen ya use it. Ya could has overpowered me easily at any time. Ha ha! Ya just too stupid to remember to use ya magic. Silly brainless Elf. Ya dids the same thing bak when ya got upside doun in a tree. Never once thought to fight bak. I think that is why I so attracted to ya. Yis the most innocent virgin I ever seen.”

“I'm not a virgin any more.”

“Aye. Cured ya of that did'na I? Haha! Always said I would.”

“Does that mean ya gonna eat me now?”

“What? Oh. No. Yis still innocent. Ya poor little mind ain't never gonna grow up. Yis a child in ya head, ya always will be. No matter how old or experienced ya body gets, ya brain just ain't never gonna catch up. Poor thing. Ya really shouldn't be wandering the world alone. Ya need someone to take cares of ya. Yis in desperate need of adult supervision.”

“I'm not stupid.”

“Aye yis. Ya can'na helps it. Ya twere born that way. JellyFish in ya brain keeps ya that way. Ya always gonna be that way. And I is always gonna be looking out for ya because of it. Just like I always has.”

“Why?”

“Once upon a time, ya dids rescue a little pony from Gypsies and him never did forgot. Ya twere kind to me. No one is ever kind to a Phooka.”

“You're a Unicorn.”

“I is. A Phooka is a type of Unicorn. An evil flesh eating, trickster Unicorn, but I is still a Unicorn none the less.”

“Am I your prisoner?”

“Prisoner? Nay child. I is yous.”

“I do not keep you prisoner.”

“Ya does not know much aboot the Unicorns do ya?”

“What do you mean?”

“When ya saved me life, so many years ahgoo, ya captured me. I twere a prisoner, bound in chains of Faerie Iron, locked in a cage made of lead. Plated with silver. Iron and lead and silver together. I am a Faerie. Iron and lead and silver combined break Fae magic. It forced me bak to me natural state, took away me magic. Made me a horse. A simple, unmagical, horse with a horn. I twere helpless. I could no fight. I could no speak. Even me silver horn vanished. I twere nothing but an ordinary, little pony because of Faerie Iron bonds. And ya saw that. Ya rescued me from them, not knowing I twere a Unicorn, not seeking any reward. Ya rescued me and when I changed back into a unicorn, ya just let me go. Because yis good and kind, with an innocent heart.”

“Any one would have done the same.”

“No. I twere their prisoner for years. Many people saw me and dids nothing. People paid money to come look at me. A Phooka in a cage. They sawed off me horn to grind to powder, to sell to alchemists, and when it grew back, they sawed it off again. Hundreds of people and not one ever stopped to help me. I is a Unicorn, had they known, they in their greed would has stopped, not to help me, but to steal me away for themselves. Had ya known I twere a Unicorn, ya still would has helped and set me free. Because is innocent of heart and mind. Ya lack selfishness and greed.” 

“I am a murderer.”

“I knows and it grieves ya something terrible. Most men take great joy in each and every life they takes, but yis filled with guilt. It crushes ya. Ya hate what ya has ah'comin'. Yis filled with remorse. Most men ain't. Most men does no fucking cares and find ways to justify what they've done so they can sleep at night. Ya does no do that. Yis different, Quaraun. Ya not evil Quaraun.”

“I am evil.”

“No, yis not. Ya could no capture a Unicorn, if ya twere evil.”

“I have not captured you.”

“Ya has, ya just do no realize it yet.”

“You was captured before. By the Demons. By The Ghoul. He captured you not me.”

 “Aye, and they twere evil, or rather the one who held me in a cage twere. The Ghoul tweren't the one who captured me. Evil sorcerer. The one who captured me, twere murdered by them, while protecting me from them. I twere wounded. Me horn twere broken. Me power lays in me horn. If me horn breaks, I lose me powers. I were not the only one he had. There were many. White stallions. He killed all the unicorns. We extint now. I be last one. And I is undead. He harvested our horns, but ya can only do it so many times before the horn stops growing back, and once that happened, then he cut out our hearts. He was a Unicorn Hunter. He killed thousands of us. Without me horn, I am but a horse. They broke it off. A new will regrow, if it is not pulled out from the root. But even though I twere captured, I twere never tamed, the Unicorn is tameable only by a virgin  with a pure and innocent heart.”

“In one of his notebooks Leonardo da Vinci wrote: The unicorn, through its intemperance and not knowing how to control itself, for the love it bears to fair maidens forgets its ferocity and wildness; and laying aside all fear it will go up to a seated damsel and go to sleep in her lap, and thus the hunters take it”

“Aye. Tis true. I is wild and feral, but I can no resit the purity and innocence of a virgin woman.”

“I am not a female. No matter how I live my life, I was born male.”

“Yis two-spirited.”

“What does that mean?”

“Ya has the soul of a fenale, born into a male's body. It that JellyFish in ya head that causeing it. Does no matter what ya got hanging doun there atween ya legs, yis a female. And ya knows yis, just look at the way yis dressit. Ain't no male dare dress like ya does. Hell, ain't many prostitutes dare dress like ya does. Yis so innocent that ya does no realize what ya do to men when yis dressit like that. And yis a three hundred year old virgin, or ya twere when ya first wander into me Forest of No Return. Cureds ya of that horrible lifestyle.”

“You don't like virgins, much do you?”

“Oh on the contrary, I loves virgins. They is wickit tasty if ya eats them moments eftah they has lost their virginity to ya.”

“Are you going to eat me?”

“No. No reason to. Yis innocent.”

“I don't understand.”

“Ya has no wish to capture me, and thus ya has captured me.”

“I'm confused.”

2012 novella release edition cover art

the 30 page short run edition

“I know. I has lived thousands of years and in that time, thousands of villages has sent thousands of virgins me way, in hopes of capturing me. They twere virgins, yes, but innocent no. A sexless body does no mean an innocent mind. So I pretended to be captured, got into their heads, found out what kind of sick, devilishly, deviant sexual desires they had, transformed meself into the man of their dreams, raped the daylights out of them following after all their deviant desires, then turned back into a unicorn, stabbed them to death with me horn and eat them. The virgins must be both innocent and pure of heart, in addition to be'an virgin. Just because one has never had sex, does not mean, one in innocent of mind and pure of heart. Yis the first virgin I has ever meet with had all three of the requirements. And fucking ya out of ya mind does no good, ya still innocent and pure and that my dear Elf, that over powers the virgin requirement. Ya could have a thousand times and still have an innocent mind. It not ya virginity that make ya a powerful wizard Quaraun, it ya innocent mind. And now that ya no more a virgin, I can teach ya sex magic, make ya even more powerful then ya already is. Ya know that be why BoomFuzzy came eftah ya. He did'na be desiren ya to fall in love with him, he twere trying to corrupt ya and make ya evil, to break the damned spell ya cast on him, with ya purity and innocence. He gone and turned ya into a murdering fiend, with sexual desires for a dead Elf that twere never real Elf to begin with, and ya still has that damed innocent mind and pure heart binding him to ya. And ya with ya devotion to ya virginity. Do ya has any idea how frustrating it is trying to get ya in bed me? I spent three hundred years trying to bed ya. Ya just does no like sex.”

“I’m asexual. I don't like sex. I have no interest in it at all.”

“I know. BoomFuzzy knows. I has been trying to get ya in bed with me for three hundred years now. I has been men and women and Elves and Humans and Gnomes and Dwarves and Thullids and Demons and everything else I could think of. I has been following ya for three hundred years and ya just ain't sexually attracted to anything. Except horses, apparently.”

“I'm a wizard of the Di'Jinn order. I took a vow of celibacy.”

“I know. A priestly order of wizards who believe they'll lose their powers if they ever has sex. Most of them is eunuchs. Ain't got the strength to with stand sexual urges, so they has to slice their dick and balls off, but not you. Oh! No! Ya can retain ya cock and balls and never even think aboot sex for centuries. Ya does not even masturbate. What is wrong with ya?”

“I'm devoted to the goal of being the most powerful wizard of all time.” 

“BoomFuzzy twere the closet I ever came, ya liked BoomFuzzy. Had BoomFuzzy stuck around long enough, I probably could has gotten ya in his bed.”

“You do know I had a wife and I've fathered four children? I've not technically been a virgin for a long time.”

“She raped ya.”

“Yes she did.”

“Twas a forced marriage, and they held ya down while she raped ya for those four royal heirs. Yas a king’s blood in ya. They did no want ya as their king. That had to make sure ya had an heir to take ya place before they killed ya.”

“It took four tries to get a male. Once they had a male, they left me alone.”

“Other then them doing that, did ya ever have sex with her willingly?”

“No. We didn’t even live together. She lived in the palace with my father and uncle. I made my tent and set it up where BoomFuzzy’s house used to be.”

“Rape does no count. Ya still a virgin, even if yis raped. That be why ya trying to kill the Lich. Yis sexually attracted to the Lich. Yis weird, Quaraun. Ya like hasing sex wid dead things.” 

“I'm a Necromancer.”

“And ya apparently got a thing for Humans what be black as the Earl of Hell’s Waistcoat, eh? I dids no has that much trouble getting in bed with ya this time. I'll has to keep this form. It makes ya horny.”

“It does. You are very attractive right now. It seems to be why I can't escape you.”

“Ya never tried to get away. I does no think ya really wanted to. When I fucked ya, ya did'na do a thing to stop me, ya did'na even struggle gainst me. Ya always has a'forah, even with BoomFuzzy. As much as ya liked him, ya'd ever let him fuck ya.”

“It certainly wasn't from lack of trying on his part. He never stopped touching me. He always had his hands between my legs. Half the time he acted like he was gonna rape me.”

“But him never dids.”

“No. He didn't. I never understood why, either, because he defiantly wanted too. It’s all he talked about.”

“Because, ya would has still been a virgin even if he raped ya. Ya had to give into him willingly to break the spell a virgin puts on a Unicorn when they capture it.”

“And now that I've let you fuck me, is the spell broken?”

Unicorn shook his head.

“No. I is still ya prisoner. Yis in love with BoomFuzzy. It not be lust that drove ya to let me use ya, it be love. Pure, innocent love. Yis in love with BoomFuzzy, ya has no desire for sexual pleasures other then to please BoomFuzzy. Ya not asexual, yar demisexual. That’s different. Means ya have no interest in sex and ya only have sex with the person ya love to satisfy them, not you. Which means now I is still ya prisoner. Yis too damned unselfishly innocent even when it comes to losing ya virginity. Because ya can'na stop thinking aboot BoomFuzzy, ya did'na try to escape, nor dids ya try to stop me. I would has stopped if ya had, but ya did'na. In fact ya acted like ya wanted it more then I dids. I am old and weak and nearly blind. I will not regain my Lich powers until I has regenerated. I never over powered ya, I does not have the strength. Any power ya thought I had over ya twere all ya head. Ya could have walked out of here at any time, but ya lust for BoomFuzzy kept ya here. Ya wanted to be with BoomFuzzy so wickit bad that ya no leave. Ya never ett me Faerie food, ya were never really under me power.”

“You've been giving me apricots the whole time.”

First edition short story cover art of 2009

(the original 13 page short story that appeared on fanfiction.net)

“Aye, but they is real apricots. Not Fae Food. Ya could has stopped me at any time. And I kind of got the impression ya knew that. How come dids ya not?"

"Stop you?"

"Aye."

"I suppose, you are right I didn't really want to."

"How come?"

"I've been alone a long time and you… I don't know. You feel familiar. Like I've known you for years. I can't explain it. I do love BoomFuzzy. You remind me of him."

"Ah, and there be that stupid, innocence of yas. Thullids is the mega brains of the galaxy and they went and stuck ya in the head of a retarded Elf, ya eat the Elf's brain and it went and corrupted you own brain. Ya can'na see what is right in front of ya face. I remind ya of BoomFuzzy ya say. More then once. I is BoomFuzzy. We already confirmed that! But ya got that short term memory problem still. Ya know what means? It mean tomorrow ya’ll forget any of this happened and ya’ll go back to t’inking ya a virgin all over again.  Way ya memory is, I could take ya virginity every damned day and the next day ya’d never know it happened.”

“That’s true. We could have sex day for an eternity and it’d be the first time for me every time.”

“Can ya even rememmber now, what I did to ya last night?”

“No. I’m sorry. My brain’s damaged.”

“How is it ya remember BoomFuzzy?”

Quaraun pulled a small wooden box out of his bag. In the box, where dozens of tiny glass bottles.

“I keep anything I want to remember in here.”

”Those the bottles the Pixie stole?”

“Yes.”

“What is in them?”

Quaraun pulled a bottle out and handed it to Unicorn.

“This one’s yours. I kept it for you.”

The Phooka took the tiny bottle and stared at it, not knowing what he should do with it.

“What is it?”

“Open it. You’ll see.”

Unicorn opened to bottle. A pink miasmic mist swirled out of it. Followed by a thundering crash, as a giant life sized gingerbread house, came crashing down from the clouds and landed in the field before themselves.

”It is me house. I wondered where it went. Ya’ve kept me house shrunk down in a bottle all these years?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“So I wouldn’t forget. I never wanted to forget BoomFuzzy. I forget everything. Days, sometimes hours after it happens. I loved BoomFuzzy, but I knew I’d forget him, like I forget everything. When he was alive, he was there every day, so every day I knew I’d wake up and remember I loved him. But after he died… I started to forget. I couldn’t let myself forget him. He meant too much to me.”

 The rest of this novel can be read here.

Volume 1: The Night of The Screaming Unicorn

Wounded, depressed, and on the run, the Pink Necromancer heads home for Inuvijk, Quebec planning to kill himself upon arriving back at the location of his lover's death, 300 years prior. Sidetracked when the Forest of No Return grows up around him and cuts off his path, Quaraun sidetracks to the coast to by-pass the sentient forest. But a hurricane crashing up the Maine coast sends him fleeing for shelter at an enchanted tavern which suddenly appears out of no where. 

Too late Quaraun realizes he's walked into a trap set by an evil Faerie and must survive a night with a sex crazed undead unicorn: The Elf Eater of Pepper Valley himself, King Gwallmaiic, leader of the Lich Lords.

Read Sample Chapters Free Online:

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The Elf Eater's Map

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*Captured By The Lich Lord  (NSFW | 18+)

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BedTime Stories For A Lich: ZooLock & The Pixie

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An Elf and a Lich in the Gingerbread Pit

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The Lich's True Form Revealed 

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Note that this is from the unedited draft, and not the finished manuscript. It contains many errors, not yet corrected, that are corrected in the published novel. This version was put here unedited, because I use it as part of an editing workshop, so students can see the differences between a 1st draft and it's edited finished product. There are ZERO pages of the finished/edited/final version published novel available free to read online. These unedited sample pages are intended to be used as teaching tools for creative writing students, learning how to edit a novel, showing what parts to change, what parts to remove, what parts to correct, ect. Not seen here, is a worksheet that is handed out at the workshops, which students use to find errors and mark corrections.

Want to see the location this novel is set in?
Follow me as I drive to and
take a walking tour through The Reclaim Blueberry Plains
of the Ross Forest, in
Old Orchard Beach, Maine,
The setting for
Night of The Screaming Unicorn:

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This novel was originally written on: 2007 & 2009 & 2012

This page last updated on: April 07, 2017

Not sure what the series is about? 

Check out 

The Quaraun Series Prologue

and

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

and

Worldbuilding MoonQuakes and Disabled Characters for Fantasy Writers

and

How well do I know Quaraun? - Let's find out!

to find out more about the plot and lore of the series.

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Not sure which story to start with? These here are good places to start, to get a good introduction to the three main characters:

• Absinthe Slushies: An Ode to Frozen Green Fairy Wine

• Bone Dice

• BoomFuzzy's Chowder Dilemma

• The Cellar's Forgotten Treasure

• Chaos in The Lighthouse - Shattered Panes, Shattered Minds

• The Cliff-Side Temple

• Control or Protection?

• A Dark and Stormy Night

• Drying Herbs

• Excited For The New Baby

• Five Ways To Save Money in Las Vegas

• The Golden Dragon Keys

• Herons in the Dunes

• If your ass ain’t freezing or your brains ain’t scrambled, you’re ain’t really trying

• Kiss Me Fuckin' Arse - Just Another Day in the Ice-Laced Ruins of The GodForsaken City

• Lens and Light Maintenance

• Macaroni and Cheese: A Creamy Pasta Dish Drenched in Melted Cheese, Often Topped with Breadcrumbs- It's Never That Easy

• A Map Worth More Than Gold

• The Morning After a Night of Teaching Wizards To Gather Magic With Cards

• Necromancer of the Parched Sands in the Desert of Diona

• Necromancy-A Day in the Life of a Bumbling Necromancer-Again

• Nightmare Nook

• Paddlewheel Maintenance

• The Phooka's Dragon School

• The Red Hakama

• Springtime by the River

• Spirit-Walk Slippers

• Sticky Rice, Bare Fingers, and Slippery Chopsticks

• The Sweet and Sour of Lemons

• The Terror Bird

• 3 Perspectives on an Apple

• The Valuable Mystery of the Talking Saloon Door and How We Nearly Got Shot Over Stale Tacos

• Vendetta over Vittles

• A Very Important Clump of Grass

• Wagers and Wiles in the Godforsaken City

• The Washer Woman & The Fae

• Weather Forecasting Stones

• You Never Know What Info You Might Pick Up in the Afterlife aka Quaraun's Near Death Experience (A NDE Fiction)

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The Adventures of Quaraun the Insane, on Amazon:

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

All Rights Reserved.

Note: there are likely spelling errors on this site, and I am unlikely to see the ... I fix them when I find them, but, there are many issues here...

Note: English is not my first language, Shetlean Scottish is my native language, there are likly spelling and grammar errors, as I do not know American English and am attempting to write it by sounding words out.

Many times that Americans think a word on my site is misspelled, often it is not misspelled, it is just I mixed up languages and wrote it in Scottish without realizing I mixed the Scottish in with the English. Also our grammar is somewhat reversed from English grammar so words that are seeming in the wrong order for American English, is usually because they are in the correct order for Scottish and I either put English words in Scottish order by mistake or was unaware English put them in a different order then Scottish does.

For those unaware, Scottish Shetlean looks like this:

American English to Scottish:

a bit (piece) = a party --- EXAMPLE: "And some know a bit of Latin " > "And somme kan of latyn a party "

a long distance from = A piece fae

a piece of = the bit --- EXAMPLE: "The duck ate a piece of bread " > "The deuk ett the bit breid "

about the banks (on the shore/at the beach) = aboot da banks

accomplishments = kunnandi

After = Back o --- EXAMPLE: " After Halloween" > "Back o Hallomas "

alive (living) = kvikr

Always on the move = Never aff o da go

am I not = amn't I --- EXAMPLE: "Am I not invited? " > "I amn't invited? or Amn't I invited?"

are = is --- EXAMPLE: "Are you going soon?" > "Is ya to be going soon?"

autumn = dah haihst

belong to = fylgja

best = bettah moost

betray (verb) = svíkja

bewildered = villhyggjandi

building = biggin up --- EXAMPLE: "building confidence in everyday use " > " biggin up confidence in ivvryday øs "

built = builded --- EXAMPLE: "He built a new porch." > "Hims builded a new porch."

cast a spell = hoodooed

cat = kat (sounds like "caught") --- EXAMPLE: "Is it an orange cat?" > "Be he a o'jinn kat?"

child = bairn

church = kirk

color = colour

danger = hœttr

daren't = darena

daring = djarfr

dark = dökk

dark elf = Dökkálfr

dark-elves = Døkkálfar

darker = dökká

do you agree = ,eh? --- EXAMPLE: "That's a fine looking woman, do you agree?" > "Dair's ah right bonnie lass, eh?"

do you want to come too = ,eh? --- EXAMPLE: "I'm going to the store, do you want to come with me?" > "Me go to shope, eh?"

each = eche --- EXAMPLE: "Which each person can understand " > "That kan eche man understonde "

educated = lered --- EXAMPLE: "Both among the educated and the uneducated " > "As wel among lered as lewed "

elf = Alfr

Elf = Álfr

Elf Home = Álfheimr

Elf World = Álfheimr

elf-advice = Ælfred

elf-beautiful = ælfscyne

elf-friend = Ælfwine

elf-guardian (female) = Ælfwaru

elf-guardian (male) = Ælfweard

elf-powerful = Ælfric

everyday = ivvryday

eyelids = eye ledes --- EXAMPLE: "He closed his eyelids." > "Hims did shut hims eye ledes"

fair = faire --- EXAMPLE: "Going to the fair." > "Done gone went to the faire."

feild = felde --- EXAMPLE: "Standing in the feild." > "Stoodt in thems felde."

further = ferther --- EXAMPLE: "I looked further." > "I dids lokid ferther."

green = grene --- EXAMPLE: "Look at the green hedges and woods." > "Look see at thems heigges and holtz so grene."

handsome = braw --- EXAMPLE: "He is very handsome " > "Him wicked braw "

have faith = trúa

Have no doubts about our doing it = Nae faer o wis

Have no liking for this. = Hae nae brou o this.

have not = ain't

He knows how many beans make five. = He kens the laid frae the croun o the causey.

He knows which side his bread is buttered on. = He kens whilk side his bannock's buttert on.

Head for = Mak wye for

head rope in fishing nets and lines = baak

head to head = Be at the knag and the widdie

horse fly = klegsie

I = Me

I Think = Me thinks --- EXAMPLE: "I think we're late. " > "Me thinks that we is late. "

I wish you well for the future = Lang may yer lum reek (translation: Long may your chimney smoke)

idiot = eejit --- EXAMPLE: "You idiot." > "Ya eejit."

idiot = numpty

if = iffy or yif--- EXAMPLE: "If you don't mind..." > "Iffy yas does no care mind...."; "If you'll stay with me long enough = "Yif ye so longe with me wil dwelle". "

I'll be even with you = A'll see day aboot wi ye

know = ken

looked = lokid

looked = lokid --- EXAMPLE: "I looked up." > "I lifte up me eye ledes and lokid ferther."

magic = hoodoo

naked = nøkkviðr

needle = bodkin

neither = nouther --- EXAMPLE: "Who know neither Latin nor French " > "That kan nouther latyn ne frensch "

No = Nay --- EXAMPLE: "No, I don't think so. " > "Nay, me thinks not. "

Nobody knew = not-knew nobody

Noontide = Da heicht o da day

NOTE: Extra words are often added. --- EXAMPLE: "Did you meet the new family next door?" > "Dids ya gets a chance to stop by and meets with thems new folk that move-ed in down yawn there next doors to ya, eh?"

NOTE: Extra words are often added. --- EXAMPLE: "He went to Rite-Aid to pick up his prescription" > "Hims did go to that yawn there new fangled store the new folks call that Rite Aid place, to gets himself some of thems there pills what the doctor gone and tells him to take each morning, a-yep, hims did."

old = olde --- EXAMPLE: "But educated and uneducated, old and young " > "Bot lered and lewed olde and yonge "

orange = o'jinn

out = oot --- EXAMPLE: "The cat wants to go out." > "The kat he do wants oot."

outside = oot dair

people = fokk --- EXAMPLE: "the people of Shetland " > "Shetland fokk "

people = folke --- EXAMPLE: "Look at all those people." > "Lookie at all thems folke."

poorly = febelly --- EXAMPLE: "Who know French very poorly " > "That kan frensch ful febelly "

Recognising = Recognisin --- EXAMPLE: "Recognising the bilingual nature of Shaetlan speakers " > "Recognisin da wye at Shaetlan spaekers is bilingual "

shield = skjoldr

Since = For --- EXAMPLE: "Since that is your native language " > "For that is youre kynde langage "

tell = telle --- EXAMPLE: "I'll tell you in English " > "In englysch tonge I schal you telle "

the = da, de, or is not used at all --- EXAMPLE: "I went to the store" > "Me goes to da shoppe" or "Me goes to da shoppe" or "Me goes to shoppe"

them = dem, dem dair --- EXAMPLE: "I went with them" > "Me goes wit dem dair"

there = dair --- EXAMPLE: "I want those potatoes" > "Me be wanting dem dair tatetas."

they = dey

To where = whither --- EXAMPLE: ""Where you go, I will go." " > ""Whither thou goest, I'll go."

understand = understonde

understand = understonden --- EXAMPLE: "Some understand English " > "And somme understonden englysch "

very = wicked --- EXAMPLE: "very good" > "wicked good"; "very bad" > "wicked bad"; "very cold" > "wicked cold"

Where = Whither --- EXAMPLE: "Where is the restroom? " > "Whither is the privy?"

Yes = Yea or Aye --- EXAMPLE: "Yes, I think so. " > "Yea, me thinks so. " or "Aye, me thinks so. "

For anyone actually interested in learning my native language, the Scottish government has THIS listed as the official dictionary of our people:  https://static1.squarespace.com/static/61d7352954b7fd1c9dbdfef4/t/65ddb2749d5e0541a01009c0/1709027964496/Spaektionary_2024feb.pdf  

The Scottish government provides this document to show our language in use: https://www.shetland.uhi.ac.uk/t4-media/one-web/uhi-shetland-images-and-documents/documents-/shaetlan/Shaetlan-Language-Plan-2022-Shaetlan.pdf 

More information about our language can be found on this website:  https://www.iheardee.com  which is written in my native language.

However, there is also other reasons why words might be misspelled, or why I might not understand someone when they speak to me.

My grandmother Helen Ricker Allen, was from Unst, Shetland, Scotland, and she the one who raised me. She taught me to read and write, but it was Shetlain that she taught me. She died when I was 8 years old, and I was locked in a woodshed after her furneral, I escaped the woodshed 27 years later at age 31, and have been trying to learn how to speak and write English since then.

It is a very great struggle.

At age 37 I took remidial reading and speaking classes at Southern Maine Community College, but we are Gypsies and Gypsy men do not allow us Gypsy women to have education, and so, while at college, on November 14, 2013, I was beaten with a golf club, while I was 8 months pregnet, breaking my spine, hips, and knees, killing my baby and leaving me quardepaleic since.

Now my primary focus these past 13 years has been on relearning to use my hand so I could type... as of 2023, I have regained the use of my right thumb, and first two right fingers, and after 10 years offline, I am back online due to I can use three finguers.

I never went to school, so I do not know maths and numbers and sciences, and I do not know what else would have been taught to me in school. We are Scottish Gypsies and Gypsy culture does not allow females to go to school. Being born female was already a great sin, but my grandmother took great risk in teaching me reading and writing. At 4 years old I was punished by my Uncle Bruce for knowing how to read, by being beaten in the face with a cinder block brick, that broke my right jaw and left me with garbaled near-mute spoken words ever since.

Because no one ever spoke words to be face to face from he time I was 8 years old until I was 37 years old (I escaped the room at age 27, but did not start college until 37), I have no training in how to vocally sound out or speak the words I write or read. I can read words, but I do not know how to sound out or say those words. I can write words, but I do not know how to match the written word against the spoken word. I struggle to associate spoken words at all, or make them match up with writen words.

Esentially, written words and spoken words are two completly seperate languages in my brain, and I have difficulty understanding spoken words.

If you say a sentance to me with your mouth, chances are very high I will have ZERO understanding of what you said and I will not be able to ander you.

However, if you WRITE down that exact same sentabnce, I can understand you and can type a written responce to you.

My doctors tell me this is a side effect of extreme isolation and neglect and lack of human contact during my toddler, childhood, teen, and young adult years, and that my brain never deveoloped to comprehend spoken vocal words due to no one ever speaking to me in over three decades of the first half of my life.

While I can read and write, American English (somewhat) I do no know how words are sounded out, what they are supposed to sound like. I readand write by shape recognition, not by sound/vocal recognition, so when reading and writing I do no "hear the words in my head" as I am told most people do when they read and write. In other words... I see "c a t" and think "c-a-t" I do not think "cat" nor do I "see" an image of a cat, no do I "hear" the word cat spoken. I'm told that this is very rare and that most people read and write by sounding out the words and linking them to visual mind images, while hearing the sound of the word in their head. I neiher hear words in my head no see images of things in my head. I'm told this is what makes me both a speed reader and speed writer, because I'm not tripped up by hear sounds or seeing images in my head like nomal people would be doing... however, I'm also told this is why my spelling and grammar are very poor, because my brain is not hear the sounds of the words or seeing visual images of the objects the words represent, so my mind also does not register spelling and grammer errors at all.

As I was only let out of the woodshed on Sundays to go to the Cape Elezabeth Ward Church of the August Stake of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, I was never allowed to go to school or hospital either. No adults ever talked to me because I was evil for comitted the sin of being born female, so I never learned how to speak properly and do not know how to sound out words to say them.

I was 42 years old, in 2016 when, while having an MRI for my spine, the doctors found out my speak issue was caused by a broken jaw as a toddler that was healed wrong because not being allowed to go to doctors. I had surgury to fix that, and since 2016 have been trying to learn how to use my jaw and touge so I can speak vocal words now.

Since 2023 my primary focus shifted to relearning to walk. I can now, in 2026, sit up for 2 or 3 hours a day, and can sand with a cane for a few minutes, and can walk for around five thousand feet in 2 to 3 segments a day, with the help of pushing my wheelchair like a walker.

As of 2026, with a slight return to using my fingers and legs, I am once again focused on trying to learn the American English, but I live in mortal fear of my uncles and male cousins, as they are so hateful of allowing me to have education.

have no one to help me to know if I am doing words correctly, and as such, I have no way of knowing if there are spelling and grammar errors, but I asume there are, and I fix them when I learn them, but I do not know what I do not know and spelling American words is a thing I do bnot know.

I have Low Fucntioning Kanner's Syndrom, also known as "RainMan Type of Autism" aka REAL and ACTUAL Autism, not to be confused with Aspergers, High Functioning Autism, or and of thr 861 illnesses on the Autism Spectrum. An Autism Spectrum Disorder is an illness that has symptoms similar to Autism but IS NOT Autism. If you have an Autism Spectrum Disorder, it LITERALLY MEANS you do NOT have Autism.

I am medically diagnosed as "kanner's syndrome, actual autism, the rainman type, profoundly retarded autistic savant, with a general IQ of 73, and an writing IQ of 221" but they added that they did not know how to properly diagnose me as I am "technically a feral child" and they don't know "how much is the autism, and how much is simple horrific levels of abuse and neglect induced post traumatic stress disorder that will go away with proper socilization".

It means I know how to write, I can write a lot, and it is next to impossible for you to teach me how to do literally anythig else because my brain only knows how to write and doesn;t know how to do anything else..
There's a reason, when I do book signings, people are quick to say: "Okay, what's the joke? why is this stupid retard here? where's the real author? I know this retard isn't the author. where are you hiding the author, why is this fucking retard here"

The end result is, I have near zero social interaction... my 3 years in college was the ONLY face to face interaction I have ever had with humans in my entire life, and I struggle deeply to understand MOST words used by MOST people when they ask me question. And so I suffer from a huge lack of understanding many words people say to me, how to translate those words into spelling, and how to translate what it is that has been said.

The fact remains hat until there exists a human on this planet who is willing to sit down and teach me what words spoken line up with and match what words written, this deficent is unlily to improve. But the fact also remains, that I am simply far too profoundly retarded for anyone to even try to make any attempt at all even to speak a friendly "hgelloe" or "good morning" when passing me on the street, so I have lost all hope of anyone ever either being my friend, being willing to teach me how to match spoken words to written words, or how to speak to other humans.

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.

Thank you for stopping by and have a nice day! ꧁✨🌸🔮🦄🔮🌸✨꧂ And if it’s your birthday today: ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐꧁ᴴᵃᵖᵖʸ☆ᵇⁱʳᵗʰᵈᵃʸ꧂🤍🎀🧸🌷🍭 Wendy Christine Allen 🌸💖🦄 aka EelKat 🧿💛🔮👻

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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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.

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 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. If 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. If 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. If 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.

More information about the backhoe attack, my son's murder, my becoming crippled, my becoming homeless, and the FBI investigation around all of it, can be found here.

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All the writing prompts found here on my website, are also available in printed paperback editions, on Amazon.

There are no ebook editions as they are already available digitally here on my website.

The Park Bench Method of Writing 100+ Cozy Fantasy Writing Prompts for NaNoWriMo & NovNov 2025 Finding Your Character’s Goal Through Mundane Moments (Character Creation & Development - NaNoWriMo & NovNov 2025) --with 500+ Writing Prompts! 30 Cozy Fantasy Writing Prompts - June 2025 - 30 Day Edition 30 Cozy Fantasy Writing Prompts, Queer Throuples/Polycules Slice of Life Edition 30 "TRUE COZY" Cozy Fantasy Writing Prompts 🫖 30 More Cozy Fantasy Writing Prompts - June 2025 Writing Character Driven Flash Fiction for NaNoWriMo & NovNov 2025 -with 90 Cozy Fantasy Slice of Life Writing Prompts A shit ton load of daily writing prompts and writing dares to use for National Novel Writing Month, 2025 edition! For the people who had been asking where to find them, the Print Paperback editions of the writing prompts found on my website are available HERE. What's New (Newly Published or Recently Updated or Edited) NaNoWriMo (Now NovNov) Annual October Prep - 2026 Edition (22 years!) Oct 23, 26 03:51 PM NaNoWriMo (Now NovNov) Annual October Prep - 2026 Edition (22 years!) Read More Currency in a zombie apocalypse or The economy of Vesonta Oct 23, 26 12:03 PM Currency in a zombie apocalypse or How does the economy of Vesonta work? or Do the UnSeelie Court use money? Read More What makes a wizard a wizard? Oct 22, 26 04:42 PM What makes a wizard a wizard? Character Creation and Worldbuilding lore Read More Vampires - a look at Vampirism in The Adventures of Quaraun the Insane Oct 21, 26 11:50 AM Vampires - a look at Vampirism in The Adventures of Quaraun the Insane/The Pink Necromancer series Read More Is Quaraun gay? | Quaraun FAQs Oct 14, 26 02:59 PM Is Quaraun gay? Is The Pink Necromancer transgender? | Answering readers FAQs about Quaraun the Insane Read More Wendy C Allen: Old Orchard Beach & Biddeford Maine Dark Fantasy Author Oct 10, 26 05:58 AM Official Home Page Of Wendy C Allen: Old Orchard Beach & Biddeford, Maine's Autistic Artist, Doll Designer, Art Car Builder, and Dark Fantasy MPreg Author Read More How Did The FBI Get Involved? Oct 05, 26 10:46 PM How Did The FBI Get Involved? Read More But is it Omega Verse? Sep 30, 26 11:11 PM Readers have suggested my Quaraun series is Omegaverse... let's find out if it is or not Read More Who is Tod Murphy? (updated for Christmas Eve attack 2025) Sep 27, 26 10:49 PM Who is Tod Murphy? (updated for Christmas Eve attack 2025) Read More Phookas Sep 25, 26 02:46 PM Everything you could ever want to know about phookas Read More ChatGPT Command Prompts For Fantasy Writers Sep 16, 26 04:27 PM Asking ChatGPT To Create Its Own Command Prompts For Fantasy Writers Read More The Egg Question: A Pink Necromancer Short Story Aug 06, 26 08:42 PM After a long day of killing Humans, The UnSeelie Court's pregnant mage contemplates why having sex with the Dragon King does not result in laying Dragon Eggs. Read More Fish, Eels, Storyland, Autism, Becoming a Published Author, Art Cars Jul 30, 26 09:16 AM Fish, Eels, Storyland, Autism, Becoming a Published Author, and Art Cars; a long and varied conversation with ChatGPT5.6 Read More The Cat at the Sea Cave Jul 29, 26 10:02 AM A Pink Necromancer story poem Read More My Elves Are JellyFish Jul 13, 26 01:38 PM My Elves Are JellyFish, and I asked for thoughts from Google vs ChatGPT Read More The Three-Seventeen Pee Expedition Jun 16, 26 02:33 PM The Three-Seventeen Pee Expedition: A Pink Necromancer Short Story Read More Why I Write (Some Thoughts on Living With Autism) Jun 10, 26 10:45 AM Why I Write (Some Thoughts on Living With Autism) and a look at the history of 144 and 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine Read More How Much Money Do Self-Published Authors Make Jun 08, 26 08:26 PM A Look at How Much Money A Million Books Sold Is Equal To - How Much Money Do Self-Published Authors Make Read More 146 Portland Ave Old Orchard Beach, Maine, FBI Murder Investigation Jun 08, 26 08:20 PM 146 Portland Ave Old Orchard Beach, Maine, FBI Murder Investigation; How Did The FBI Get Involved? Read More The Quaraun Series Prologue May 20, 26 03:11 PM The Quaraun Series Prologue Read More An Introduction to The Pink Necromancer Series May 17, 26 04:47 PM An Introduction to The Pink Necromancer Series: The Adventures of Quaraun the Insane Read More No, Disabled People Do Not Exist To Inspire You May 14, 26 11:01 PM Yes, it is offensive to write disabled characters to act as inspiration to others. or how to write disabled characters accurately Read More Murder Investigation Updates, Old Orchard Beach, Maine May 11, 26 12:25 PM Murder Investigation Updates, Old Orchard Beach, Maine Read More The FBI murder investigation 144 & 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach May 06, 26 07:05 PM The FBI murder investigation of 144 & 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine - Everything we are allowed to publically release Read More Thoughts on Reborn Therapy Dolls After My Son's Murder Apr 15, 26 06:29 AM My 8 month old son was murdered; Thoughts on Reborn Therapy Dolls After My Son's Murder Read More Addressing victim blaming in murder investigations Mar 13, 26 09:40 PM Addressing victim blaming in murder investigations Read More The Tussah Day Serenade Feb 16, 26 07:44 AM The Tussah Day Serenade, a fiction short story poem - LGBTQAI+ FICTION | The Adventures of Quaraun The Insane | TransMan MC | Read More Ghosts Beneath the Pink Silk Tent Feb 11, 26 05:11 AM Ghosts Beneath the Pink Silk Tent Read More An Existential Crisis Feb 11, 26 05:09 AM An Existential Crisis 🌸{A Pink Necromancer Triple Drabble} 🦄🌸 Read More The Moon Goddess Laughs From The Rooftops Feb 11, 26 05:05 AM The Moon Goddess Laughs From The Rooftops Read More 10 Years of Injustice: Tackling Radical Church Extremism Feb 11, 26 04:29 AM 10 Years of Injustice: Tackling Radical Church Extremism Read More Don't Be A Stalker Feb 10, 26 09:14 PM Don't be a stalker Read More IMPORTANT NOTE: All the writing prompts found here on my website, are also available in printed paperback editions, on Amazon. There are no ebook editions as they are already available digitally here on my website. January February 2026 Updates If you are one of (as of December 2025, the now more than ten thousand) daily visitors, who arrive here daily in search of SEO advice, I made this page for you: My response to the alarming spike in traffic to my "SEO" pages. aka I am getting Weird Spike In Google Traffic For SEO & Content Writing & Marketing keywords and search terms even though this is a Yaoi and Gay Romance website that has absolutely nothing to do with SEO or Content Writing or Content Marketing What the fuck? The Park Bench Method of Writing Receiving death threats over a septic tank and a little brown log cabin, but I own neither a septic tank nor a little brown log cabin... what even are these thugs talking about? I am a mute/none verbal wheelchair user and I just had an encounter over my wheelchair, but being mute had no way to defend myself. Crazy Woman Just Attacked - No Clue Why or Who She Is (August 14, 2025) Articles For Writers on How To Write & Publish A Rapid Release  Series Want to write like I do? You want this page: Writing Mindset Shift & Lester Dent vs Kishotenketsu w/Thoughts on Being one of Dr. Lindstrom's 200 PenPal Students (NaNoWriMo & NovNov 2025) plus Polyamory Beyond Fetish: Writing Multi-Partner Relationships and Writing Blind Characters Plus Elves and Very High, High Elves  VS Unicorns and Phookas and Demons and also What exactly makes an Elf an Elf? (What is the definition of an Elf?) but Noses, Penis Piercings, And Rapunzel Hair and Need Help Defeating Overpowered Fantasy Wizards? + Wizards and More Wizards and Even More Wizards and Still More wizards and MAKE VILLAINS EVIL AGAIN: A WRITER’S BATTLE CRY TO RECLAIM THE DARK SIDE Have you ever considered: How Things In Your Life Affect Your Writing or Currency In Worldbuilding and The Dangers of World Travel or  Dragging a Body Through The Snow and Talking While Falling Asleep or Worldbuilding MoonQuakes and Disabled Characters for Fantasy Writers or I have everything but the kitchen sink... wait, how'd that kitchen sink get in my pocket? Writing Absurdist Fantasy Books but How long does it take to reach 1667 words? and 50k in one day - is it possible? plus What is the average typing speed? plus What (self-publishing) platform pays the most (for books)? My top 3 picks. Comparing my results from different places. and Knowing what to include when describing the surroundings of a scene also Validation Is a Cult and Open Strong, Stay Loud and  Where are the writers who love writing? plus Self-Publishing Success: Does Anyone Ever Succeed at Self-Publishing? and Where To Get Writing Ideas? and Writing What You Know Might Not Be What You Think It Is and Why I do not attend writing groups...are they all like this or just the ones in Maine? but also Don't Forget To Just Write  because Yes, You Can! Plus The Park Bench Method of Writing (with 10k writing prompt list) or The Park Bench Method of Writing (just the article) plus: How did you build your audience? Not online, that's for sure. aka How to sell ten million books aka How I sold ten million books. Need Writing Prompts? For Anyone Looking for: The "haunted car" people call The GoldenEagle & my response to Stephen King's illegally filming my family and farm in his movies? My response to MUFON's Amphibious Aliens? My response to Coast to Coast AMs Arrival in my yard? Back to the Home Page Wendy Christine Allen, Old Orchard Beach's Autistic Author, Artist, Illustrator, & Art Car Designer Counting Down to the 2028 50th Anniversary of my first published book (September 23, 1978) Yes, I am aware there are a lot of spelling errors on this site. No, I likely will not be fixing most of them. I have been quadriplegia/paralyzed arms and legs since November 14, 2013; As of 2026, I have regained use of two fully functional fingers on my right hand, and only stiff limited movement of all remained eight fingers. This causes most of the typos and spelling errors as my near-dead pinky and ring fingers tend to drag over the other letters on the keyboard. Attempts to correct errors, often causes more errors for the same reason. Much of my writing is also speech to text, but I have "profound low functioning, non-verbal kanner's syndrome aka autism aka the rainman type" (that is what the medical diagnosis called it), I have the medically diagnosed retarded type of autism, that medical doctors mean when they say "real and actual autism", I do not have the cool trend self diagnoses tiktok type of "autism". What this means is, in spite of five decades of trying, I have very limited vocal speaking abilities and a lower then average vocabulary, that leaves my speaking ability around the level of a 4 or 5 year old child; I do not know math or money or clocks and. I also, was raised by a Shetland Scottish Grandmother (Helen Ricker Allen) until her death when I was 8 years old, and she did not speak American, she spoke Shetland/Scottish, Shetlandic, which is a Nordic language, different from Scotts Language, not related to Gaelic which is what many Scottish speak, and while classified as a type of Scottish English is is considered "Olde medieval Norse" dialect of Scottish English and spoken by fewer then two thousand people as of 2026. It is the language of Scottish Travelling Gypsies, which is what we racial are. I was 31 years old first time I ever heard American English, and only started to learn American English at 42 years old. Right now in 2026 at 51 years old, I am able to speak American English on around the level of an 8 year old child, and greatly do not understand over 90% of American words, American slang, and American media references. What this means is, OFTEN words you think are spellt wrong (like color vs colour, or traveling vs travelling, are in fact NOT spelt wrong, because I use Scottish spellings) and often when I hear an American word, I spell it phonetically because I do not know the correct American spelling. Likewise we Scottish do not have words like my or your, and so say me and you, in places where Americans would say my and your.  I also use Scottish word meanings, not American word meanings, for example Unicorn means a blood thirsty flesheating shapeshifting sea creature that comes on land and pretends to be a wounded horse to lure in humans to eat, it can only be captured by a virgin. But when I say Unicorn, a word I frequently use, because I write Unicorn folkloric short stories... I find that most Americans connect Unicorns to children's cartoons, gay pride, or swinging sex lives... I struggle to understand who in their right mind thought the most bloodthirsty monster of Scotland folklore was good fodder for children's cartoons or "sex positive" mascots, me thinks Americans need to brush up on the lore of Unicorns using their horns as sword to stabbed people's eyes out, while gallopping through swamps with rows of bloody Human heads hanging from their backs via braids made of Human entrails... really, why did Americans thinks a monster like a Unicorn was fit for children's cartoons or sex positivity? Americans is weird. All this to say... speech to text software, struggles badly with my thick Shetland accent, my slurred Autism speech impediment, and causes additional misspellings and typos because it can not figure out what words I am trying to say. And while I could take the time time to run all of it through a spell checker, that does require better hand mobility then I have, to copy the text from one program to the next and manually click each word, with finger mobility that I simply do not have, but also, most of my time is spent in trying to relearn to walk, and if you are local, you've probably seen this as I'm a stubborn bitch who refused to accept the doctor disnosis that I will never walk again, so, I walk around the block every day pushing my wheelchair, refusing to sit in my wheelchair, and... ...it's taking me 13 years to do it, but, I'm not actually able to stand up and make it all the way around the block now, and my focus on trying to relearn to walk is far more important to me, then catering to your pampered arse by fixing spelling errors, when there are far bigger problems to worry about in life, the spelling errors made by a quadriplegic who is typing this with her only two functioning fingers. Also, in recent years, I've watched the internet devolve into a mindless clusterfuck of ChatGPT written everything. Everyone sounds the same online these days, because no writes their own work anymore. Every website out there has become a carbon copy of each other, because they are all be written by ChatGPT now. I think ChatGPT makes a funny thing to chat with in your spare time, so you can laugh at the hilarity of how inaccurate it's responses are... but I am horrified that people are using AI for serious writing, writing they publish and try to pass off as their own. We live in a society where people people are forgetting how write. Heck I can read and write cursive, calligraphy, italic, short hand, and editor's marks, also edit my books by hand diagraming every sentence, and that... start walking around your neighbourhood and ask anyone under 30 if they sentence diagraming IS, let alone how to do it. So yes, I CAN spell check, and no I don't, for anything but my novels and short story collections, I spell check when it matters... and this is a website, not a printed book... but also, I am just getting so damn fucking fed up with endless AI writing online, so, no, I'm not going to fix errors and typos on my website, and you can bitch about that all you want (yes, I do get your messages, I just don't answer anyone in private) but, honey, maybe instead of bitching over my spelling errors, be thankful is still at least one website on the internet that still being written by a Human now in 2026 when ChatGPT writes over 70% of all posts online.

Looking for my annual NaNoWriMo Prompts and Dares? I've been publishing these every year since 2004! Here's,for my 26th year, a shit ton load of daily writing prompts and writing dares to use for National Novel Writing Month, 2025 edition! The Park Bench Method of Writing The Adventures of Quaraun The Insane: Paperpacks & Hardcover Editions on Amazon: Not sure what the series is about?  Check out  The Quaraun Series Prologue and Faeries vs Elves (In The Quaraun Series) A Pink Necromancer World Lore Post and Worldbuilding MoonQuakes and Disabled Characters for Fantasy Writers and How well do I know Quaraun? - Let's find out! to find out more about the plot and lore of the series. Not sure which story to start with? These here are good places to start, to get a good introduction to the three main characters: Absinthe Slushies: An Ode to Frozen Green Fairy Wine Bone Dice BoomFuzzy's Chowder Dilemma The Cellar's Forgotten Treasure Chaos in The Lighthouse - Shattered Panes, Shattered Minds The Cliff-Side Temple Control or Protection? A Dark and Stormy Night Drying Herbs Excited For The New Baby Five Ways To Save Money in Las Vegas The Golden Dragon Keys Herons in the Dunes If your ass ain’t freezing or your brains ain’t scrambled, you’re ain’t really trying Kiss Me Fuckin' Arse - Just Another Day in the Ice-Laced Ruins of The GodForsaken City Lens and Light Maintenance Macaroni and Cheese: A Creamy Pasta Dish Drenched in Melted Cheese, Often Topped with Breadcrumbs- It's Never That Easy A Map Worth More Than Gold The Morning After a Night of Teaching Wizards To Gather Magic With Cards Necromancer of the Parched Sands in the Desert of Diona Necromancy-A Day in the Life of a Bumbling Necromancer-Again Nightmare Nook Paddlewheel Maintenance The Phooka's Dragon School The Red Hakama Springtime by the River Spirit-Walk Slippers Sticky Rice, Bare Fingers, and Slippery Chopsticks The Sweet and Sour of Lemons The Terror Bird 3 Perspectives on an Apple The Valuable Mystery of the Talking Saloon Door and How We Nearly Got Shot Over Stale Tacos Vendetta over Vittles A Very Important Clump of Grass Wagers and Wiles in the Godforsaken City The Washer Woman & The Fae Weather Forecasting Stones You Never Know What Info You Might Pick Up in the Afterlife aka Quaraun's Near Death Experience (A NDE Fiction) Or if after reading those, you still are looking for more free to read stories, there are over three thousand of them on this site, too many to list here, but here a few dozen to get you started... ...you can just jump in and try reading some of the free to read online stories first before committing to buying the books: Abyssal Addlepated: Stupid and Confused All the roads are gone Alone Ancient Coin Hoard Unearthed Angry Ocean Waves at Sunset The Arrival The Art of Destroying a Human Village for Fun and Profit At the High Priest's Altar Back At The Tavern and Still No Shrimp The Bandits and the Pink Necromancer The Banshee Sisters: Bean-Nighe and Ben-Neeyah In the Swamp of Death The Beacon Room at the Top of the Black Tower Lighthouse The Beauty of a Silk Moth Hatching The Beginning of the End Bellicose: Warlike! Aggressive! Hostile! Beneath a crimson sky, the silk weaver wove pink silk. Beneath Malevolent Stars The Black Sock, Again Blizzard The Boat Fiasco The Book Burning Maggots, a You Can't Spell Hatred Without Red Hats BoomFuzzy's Gingerbread House from Hell The Brownies & The Witch, or Why Faeries Don’t Wear Socks The Bumbling Pursuit of The Pink Necromancer Candied Nightmares The Candle Con in Ember Hollow The Candy Corn Unicorn Captured By The Lich Lord The Cast Iron Frying Pan Cattail Pollen Spaghetti with Wild "Oregano" A Chilly Light Drizzle Becomes Snowfall on the Shore Chocolate Bliss Chocolate in the Neon Shadows Christmas in 40th Century Dystopia Christmas With The Krampus Family The City of Death Clam Digging in the Rain The Clock Ticks Away Clotheslines, Games, and the Village Code Ghosts Comet Fall Snow Day Blitz Conundrum in the Bazaar Corsets, Elves, and Undead Faeries Crabapples in the Rain Cranberry Muffins The Crooked Dice The Crows Are Restless Crullers and Curses at Midnight The Curse of the Liquid Gold The Cursed Mirror Dangerous Tides {A Pink Necromancer Drabble Dozen, featuring Etiole} Dark Damp Basement A Day At Witch Pond & Fleeing To The Forest Deadly Shores of Noodle Beach The Demon Cultists and The Coming of The Darkness The Demonic Music Box Desolate Nostalgia on a Frozen Shoreline The Diamond Forest in the Bio Dome The Disbelief of Humans Discovering A Floating Castle Dismal Day at the Street Market The Doors' Dark Secret - A Wedding In A Zombie Apocalypse Dreams of Purple Pearls The Drunk Moon Elf Echoes of the Glass Forest Echoes of the Unseen An Eclipse in the Faerie Glen An Eclipse Looms Tonight An Eerie Discovery Eerie Symbols in the Snow The Egg That Was Not an Egg The Elf With Crippled Hands Ember Enable The Enchanted Map Encountering ghostly apparitions in the swamp Evil Eggplants Stalking Outside Evil McEvil of The Twirly Moustache Existential Crisis Perspectives - 3 Perspectives on an Existential Crisis Exploring the Swamp's Forgotten River A Fall in the River A Field of Poppies On The Road To Witch Pond 15 Drabbles About Being Transgender The First Flicker of Dawn Fishing in the Rain Five Ways To Save Money in Las Vegas Fizzy and Frigid A Flapdoodle Wizard’s Duel Fleeced for Fizz Fog & Peach Melba Toast After Last Night's Rain Footprints In The Sand Forest Kings and Their Antler Crowns The Fragrant Smoke of Flavoured Herbs Freshly Baked Sugar Cookies The Frilly Nest of Panic A Garden of Pink Chrysanthemums Get your hands off my dress! GhoulSpawn & The Cultists GhoulSpawn Said The Moon Don’t Laugh GhoulSpawn's Toasted Marshmallow Magic A Glass of Fresh Milk Gloom Blob of Doom: The Dreadful Dripping of the Doom Blob of Gloom Glumpish, Grumpy, Sullen, Gloomy Golden Field, Pink Glories The Golden Mask The Graveyard That Ate the Living The Great UnSeelie Court Swindlers He Always Comes Back Heirloom Tomatoes Help! He's trying to feed me! The Herd Approaches The Howl on Silent Moor How to Create a Literary Empire with Just Your Bum Poems How To Kill a Lich How to Hijack a Human Supply Train Without Getting Shot How to Overthrow an Entire Settlement Without So Much as Lifting a Finger I Need To Feel Safe Ignoramus — An Utterly Ignorant Crowd of Humans IkuTursu's Cursed Depths of the Swamp Where Pine Boughs Whisper Incandescent Shadows Over Driftwood Bay The Infected Survivor Inner Fortitude Insidious Love Invigorating Cool Air Iron Hooves and Burning Roads, Krampus on Wheels The Ivory Tower of Greed The Jar of Pickled Toes Jibber Jabber Ramblings by the Fire The Jolly Red Lich King Journey Through the Zombie-Infested Swamp on the Blue Monkey Judgement An Ode To The Lunatics Preaching The Rapture of September'25 Kelim and The Necromancer: Finding Finderu Kelim Meets Quaraun The Insane Lanterns Over the Faerie Glen Leaving Your Bed Messy Isn't Exactly the Apocalypse The Leprechaun of The Deep North A Lich's Lament For a Mortal Lover Growing Old A Lich's Reflections On Escaping The Swamp of Death The Lich's True Form Revealed The Lighthouse’s Glass-Eyed Horror The Lighthouse Keeper The Lighthouse That Leapt, Space Dock 13's First Jump Through Space The Long Road The Loot Tree Lord of the Hive Lost In The Forest of No Return-Trying To Find Directions The Lost Library and The Snowglobe The Lotus' Silent Prayer on the Sandy Shoreline Lover's Triangle Make tea and go for a rainy forest walk Maple Cotton Candy Served as a Topping on Vanilla Ice Cream A Market Day Disaster Market Day Weekend - Three Days In The Life of The Pink Necromancer Marsh Serenity Reflection Mayonnaise Meeting Mallac Melt, Ya Safe With Me The MerMan's Wrath Milkweed Meadow Mint, Madness, and Motor Parts The Mischief of the Purple Unicorn Misplaced Utensils and the Cascade of Confusion Monsters & Mayhem: How Black Tower Became Pink (8+ Parts) The Moon and The Drowned The Moon Goddess Laughs From The Rooftops The Moon That Hungers The Moon and The Mirror Morning Sickness at The Shattered Stein (TW: MPreg Yaoi) A Mysterious Door No Goldfish, Today? No Place for Birth The Noodle of Power Not Little Red Riding Hood Obsessive Love-Dangerous Love An Ode to My Shattered Sanity Ominous One River In Three Perspectives Open Grave An Ordinary Day A Path of Twisted Trees A Peaceful Night on the Tundra The Peaceful Shores of Noodle Beach Phantom Tides Pickling Perfection Pickles, Panic, & Permafrost The Picnic Pink Marabou Trimmed Rainbow Leg Warmers, a Purple Feathered Black Leather Codpiece, and an Emerald Green Overly Fluffy Scarf The Pink Necromancer's Deceitful Carpet Weave Pink Sheep, Cheesy Burritos, and The Grim Reality of Zombies Pliable Clay on the Potter's Wheel Pocket Lich Unleashed: Quaraun Murders Finderu Preparations for the Street Market of the GodForsaken City Psychotic Dead Things Quaraun's Beauty Makeovers Quaraun's Candle Business Quaraun's Irritable Day Quaraun and The Wandering Turtle City Quarreling Over the Last Slice of Pizza A Quiet Day on The Blue Monkey The Quiet Evening in the Pink Silk Tent A Quiet Evening In The Rain A Quiet Night on The River A Quiet Place To Sweep A Quiet, Relaxing Foot Rub The Rain-Drenched Alley Raining Cats & Dogs Readers vs Readers, What Really Makes a Reader, a Reader? Remove! The Return of ZooLock The River Boat Man-Woman The Sacred Pink Secret (TW: Mpreg Yaoi) Safety and Emergency System Activated. Please Being Calm Santa's Floating Dead Body Santa's Letter To Satan The Screaming Contest The Seagull Sea Slugs and Clam Chowder Bread Bowls Secret Meeting Hidden Behind Closed Doors Shadows on the Clam Flats Shipyard at Dusk The Silence of the Unseen Silks in the Snow The Singing Crabgrass Crabs — A Green Fairy Wine Tale A Sinister-Looking Stone Well Six Days Earlier The Snake's Prophecy of Doom Upon The Fractured Moon A Solitary Black Sock Spinning Dreams in Silk The Soul Eater Spacious Space Spooky Scary Skeletons - A Graveyard Waltz Stillness in the Garden's Chaos Stone Cakes for the Road Survival Preppers Of The Zombie Apocalypse The Swamp of Death The Tavern in the Faraway Town The Temple City of The Green Goddess, Where Every Street Has a Name The Terrifying Cliffs of Noodle Beach, featuring Etiole That Afternoon When Quaraun Got Stuck In a Crab Trap That Big Bad Darkness in His Heart A Threatening Letter Too Busy Cooking Lemon Tarts Toobe's Well-Prompted Apocalypse (A ChatBot Plans Global Domination) The Trade Caravan A Tumble In The River The Vacuous Tavern Fool Waiter, There's A Head In My Soup Wandering Merchant: The Trader’s Cryptic Goods (Part 2 of ShipYard At Dusk) What I Wish I Knew Before Not Becoming an Astrophysicist When a Government Tries to Cover Its Crimes Why the Sea is Salt A Winter Wizard Wishing For Lobster Rolls-Never Make Wishes In The Presence of Wizards WORMS! Wrath of the Sacred Pink JellyFish Yelling at the Snowstorm You've Only Known Our World Through The Eyes of a Madman You trust that nonsense over a map? Zombies Are Not the Worst Thing Here {TW: Love fucking wins} Zwodder: A Drowsy Stupid State of Mind Hmmm... soooo... I was making the above list to ALL the links to EVERY Quaraun story published on my website here, and adding it into the footer of my site, here as you can see, which loads on every page, and then I realized... wait... there are over two thousand Pink Necromancer stories up free to read on my website, I can't put two thousand links on every single page! Whoops! LOL! So, now I'm putting list to ALL the links to EVERY Quaraun story published on my website here on this page instead and just link that page to the footer instead. But also I'll just leave some of the links in the footer, as you can see above. FacebookXPinterestTumblrRedditWhatsApp ShareFacebookXPinterestTumblrRedditWhatsApp The Park Bench Method of Writing

The Park Bench Method of Writing

IMPORTANT NOTE:

All the writing prompts found here on my website, are also available in printed paperback editions, on Amazon.

There are no ebook editions as they are already available digitally here on my website.

Want even more writing prompts?

If anyone contacts you saying 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, is for sale, know that they are lying to you... it is my land, and it has been in my family since 1531... and the ONLY person whom has EVER gone around saying it is for sale, is a woman who the FBI believes to be the same woman who murdered my son.

My son is buried here, and the FBI believes she is trying to buy my land in order to destroy his grave and destroy evidence of his murder.

Since my son's murder November 14, 2013, every year dozens of real estate agent show up all with a story of a female developer who is offering them MILLIONS of dollars for my lot of land that is only 1/4 of an acre and is not big enough to develop.

When shown police sketches of my son's murderer, the real estate agents say "Yes, that's the woman who hired me to buy 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine", but then the woman disappears and the real estate agents never hear from her again... all contact information she gave them turns out to be fake.

The woman who murdered my son, is DESPERATELY trying to buy 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine... this is the woman to watch out for... and this is what she did:

Looking to find out more about my son's murder, that information is on these pages:

• How did the FBI get involved?

• Never Forget my son was murdered

• Do you know who this woman is? And no 146 Portland Ave is not for sale.

• Thoughts on Reborn Therapy Dolls After My Son's Murder

Answering the questions:
Can you give me links to the news reports of your son's murder? 
and
Why can't I find any news reports about this?

Maine has well over a thousand murder cases that have never been in the news.

I found this out after my son was murdered November 2013, and a year later I found out it had never been in the news, even though I was hounded for weeks by news people. I went to each of the over a dozen TV stations and newspapers whom had showed up at the hospital and asked why they had never published any report after all the trouble they had gone through to (in some cases illegally) het into the hospital to interview me.

in every case they said some version of "well, it just wasn't news worthy, there was nothing we could use to get views". Really? These were big news stations, channel 13, 6, 8, Portland Press Herald, Bangor Daily...

What exactly was it they claimed was "not news worthy"?

I'll tell you.

On November 14, 2013, my son was murdered. At Southern Maine Community College in the parking lot of The Buglight Art Studio beside the Spring Point Lighthouse.

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.

Oh yeah, and I've been quadriplegic for 13 years.

oh yeah one more thing, same trio, they also found out where i lived in Old Orchard Beach and drove a backhoe over my house as well.

146 Portland Ave Old Orchard Beach, Maine... July 4, 2013 vs August 8, 2013

I have been homeless and quadriplegic for 13 years, and right now it's just a few weeks away from both my son's 14th birthday and the 14th anniversary of the day he was murdered, both of which happened the same day.

Explain to me what about any of that is "not newsworthy"?

I did find out WHY it was deemed not newsworthy. "it would negatively impact tourism" was their reason. The College at Fort Prebble is a tourist destination. The lighthouse at the college is a tourist destination. My house on Portland ave is situated on the primary road to the beach that is a tourist destination.

The news reporters explained to me that, they risked losing their jobs if they publicised "negative news" occurring in these sorts of tourist destination spots.

My son's murder wasn't in the news, because it might cause tourists to stop visiting that lighthouse. That was the reason the reporters gave me.

How often are there things not being reported on just so businesses don't lose tourist money?

How often does this happen? A lot, I've since found out. In trying to find other mothers of murdered children to interact with... I found five others JUST in Old Orchard Beach, whom the murders were not in the news, and all of them happened after my son's murder. I found 2 such mothers in Scarbourogh, their children's murders not in the news. I found over a dozen more in the Bar Harbore area, also all not in the news.

It's a very disturbing trend here in Maine, one that I never would have found out about had my own son not been murdered.

One thing's very clear: in Maine you can get away with murdering a child, if you do it in a big tourist location, because news stations REFUSE to report any crime occurring in tourist locations.

Fuck torists.

I don't give a shit about your precious tourist money.

My son was murdered and I want his killer found... and I am VERY displeased with the deplorable way news stations try to bury child murders in Maine, just to appease tourist funded businesses.

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This website is a safe zone for LGBTQAI+, pagans, and BIOPIC communities.

This website is a safe zone for LGBTQAI+, pagans, polys, trans, neurodivergent, disabled, mobile aid user, minority, cosplayers, otherkin, furries, & BIOPIC communities.