Happy 2026!
It is our 30th anniversary here at Space Dock 13!
On the web since 1996!
You have encountered an extremely old website that continues to exist in old web ways, the same way it has done for now three decades.
In spite of being now 30 years old this year, started in 1996, it is still heavily active and old pages updated daily, new pages added daily, still now in 2026. All hand written, all hand coded (no AI), all by me, same as it ever was.
We Still Exist: The Old Web Did Not Go Away, You Just Forgot How To Find Us
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This site was NOT designed for mobile devices (as they had not been invented yet when I created it) thus this site looks best on a computer, at 1280x768 or above. |
This is a very old website created in 1996, so, yes, javascript is needed for the site to work as it should. If things don't function, you may need to update javascript drivers on your device |
This site tries to be mobile friendly but it's been online since 1996, so old pages may not load right on mobile devices, and as this site has had pages added near daily for 30 years there are now over 20k pages here. |
Having started out in life as a GeoCities site, this site contains glitter, bright colours, blinkies, moving gifs, and other things the old web was known for. |

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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:
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My Elves Are JellyFish...and I asked Google AI and ChatGPT 5.6 what they thought of this.
As requested, my daily writing prompt series is now available print paperback editions on Amazon.
There are 20 volumes of this writing prompt series currently planned and in varying stages of finishing, hopefully all 20 will be published by the end of 2026. I likely will do a 2nd series of writing prompt books in 2027.
The first of the Visual Novels/Video Games for The Adventures of Quaraun the Inane/The Pink Necromancer series is published and available on Itch.io, there are 3 more planned for release in 2026, 6 more planned for release in 2027, and the big 60-hour 80k word 150 page one (Quaraun Goes To the Fair) is planned for a 2028 release.
There is a Pink Necromancer card game and a Pink Necromancer board game, as well as a Pink Necromancer table top RPG supliment for Dungeons and Dragons, all in the works, and to be released over the next couple of years as well.
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Update Sept 3, 2026:
I am able to get around enough to take Koko to dog park... today is 29 days since getting out of hospital. My diet is still mostly liquid, but im eating some solid food again, but its like rice or soft mushy baby food type stuff because I still can not chew yet, though I can swallow again. My jaw is still not functioning good so im having trouble talking still. So there's been slight improvement to my mouth, throat, and jaw, but, zero improvement to my eye, which is a major concern, be Im almost fully blind right now. im legally blind since birth in my left eye, so I have no ability to fall back on using my left eye. My right eye is the one injured and my vision in it is "40% decreased" according to my doctor, but it wasn't good vision to begin with, and right now my right eye is not much different from my legally blind left eye. Which I why I have to have someone drive my car for me instead of me driving my car myself right now, which is very frustrating, because, being a female, I had to fight for over twenty years to be allowed to drive. I started sneaking out at age 31 and dressing as a man to go to Old Orchard Beach high school to get a ged, because us females are not allowed to go to school. And i was 37 years old when snuck out to the DMV and got a driver's permit and started going to college. I was 42 and 8 months pregnant when my family found out I was going to college and thats when I was punished by the backhoe driving over my house and my spine broken with a golf club and my baby born right then and killed with same golf club. So it's very frustrating now, so soon after finally being able to drive , to now not be able to drive because of an eye injury, especially after 14 years of being paralyzed from the golf club and not being allowed to have a wheelchair, again, because i am female and we females are simply not allowed to do anything. I hate the culture I was born into. I wish I had the freedom to go to school and drive a car the way American women do. I wish having my spine broken with a golf club and my baby killed with a golf club and a backhoe driven over my house was not how men in my family punishment women in my family for learning to read and write. Its so frustrating not being able to to drive again, so soon after 14 years being paralyzed, and being paralyzed by the golf club was the punishment for getting a driver's license back in 2013 after 30 years of men not letting me have one. I hate my family's culture and how they treat us women.
I get so sick of Americans telling me how they wish they could be a Gypsy… they are either misogynist woman hating pigs, or delusional idiots who haven't got a clue how shittily we Gypsy women are treated by Gypsy men, because no one in their righ mind who knows anything about Gypsy culture would ever want to be part of it. I hate that I was born a Gypsy.
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update sept 7, 2026
"You would not make a good teacher"... what does that mean, and why are there so many people on Railroad Ave and Western Ave and Cutts St why walk up to me and say that to me?
I find it very confusing. I have low functioning Autism (the Rain Man type) and so i have very little understanding of words beyond the basic ones, and i never went to to school, so I never learned maths or sciences, and I only had remedial classes at Southern Maine Community College, because I did not have an education to enroll with regular, I was there taking every reading and writing class they had to learn how to read and write, and also took speaking classes to learn how to talk (i spoke Shetland Scottish language because that was language my grandmother spoke but she died when I was 8 so I only knew that language to speak and write, and I was 37 when I went to college and 42 when I learned English speaking and I still cant speak English good yet), all the other classes I took were art painting and cooking.
So the phrase "You would not make a good teacher" makes no sense to me because it seems to imply that I am trying to be a teacher, but I don't have anything close to the education ti be a teacher, and im not trying to be a teacher. So I don't know why people keep saying this phrase to me and I assume it must have some sort of a slang meaning, but I can't figure out what it could be of why do these people keep saying it to me.
see video below for more information:
@eelkat "You would not make a good teacher"... what does that mean, and why are there so many people on Railroad Ave and Western Ave and Cutts St why walk up to me and say that to me? I find it very confusing. I have low functioning Autism (the Rain Man type) and so i have very little understanding of words beyond the basic ones, and i never went to to school, so I never learned maths or sciences, and I only had remedial classes at Southern Maine Community College, because I did not have an education to enroll with regular, I was there taking every reading and writing class they had to learn how to read and write, and also took speaking classes to learn how to talk (i spoke Shetland Scottish language because that was language my grandmother spoke but she died when I was 8 so I only knew that language to speak and write, and I was 37 when I went to college and 42 when I learned English speaking and I still cant speak English good yet), all the other classes I took were art painting and cooking. So the phrase "You would not make a good teacher" makes no sense to me because it seems to imply that I am trying to be a teacher, but I don't have anything close to the education ti be a teacher, and im not trying to be a teacher. So I don't know why people keep saying this phrase to me and I assume it must have some sort of a slang meaning, but I can't figure out what it could be of why do these people keep saying it to me. #mainelife #biddefordmaine #maine #disabilitytiktok #Biddeford ♬ original sound Wendy C Allen | 📚 Author
update Sept 15, 2026:
I have some slight movement in some my fingers again again after over a decade being paralyzed
you remember how I used to be a professional doll making, pattern designer, and embroiderer, back before I became paralized and before my son was murdered and being the backhoe drove over my house?
all my equipment, sewing machines, ect were all destroyed by the backhoe driving over my house, and I have been quardepelegic for over a decade because of it so could not use my hands to sew or draw or embroider, and so only continued to do my writing of novels since then because I could do that with dragon dictation software,
well, since 2016, I been playing Witcher 3 and don't starve video games on twitch livestream, one hand two fingers, as part of my therapy to regain nerve and muscle use of my fingers, and now after 10 years of that, I have somewhat more movement in my fingers and im thinking maybe I can try to do embroidery and doll making again, but not sure, anyways, now im rebuying all of my sewing and embroidery equipment that the backhoe destroyed when it drove over my house, and hopefully I can use my hand enough to embroider again.
waiting for stuff to arrive in mail, so soon I should find out if ten years of twitch gaming has given me enough muscle strength to use my fingers to embroider again.
update to the previous video, answering viewer question about lack of hospital vs broken spine
Wheelchair Fundraiser... I need to upgrade to a power wheelchair, the manual one just isn't enough anymore. But the power wheelchair is $25k. Yes, twenty five thousand dollars. Wtf? I can get a car for a quarter that price, why are wheelchairs so damned expensive? That's more money then I make in five years, so I need to start a fundraiser for it.


After walking for another quarter of a mile they reached what they assumed to be Witch Pond. There was no sign to tell them this was the place, but it was a pond, surrounded by a swamp, with spooky dead wood trees all about, and certainly looked like a place any self respecting witch would pick for a home. Indeed across the pond they could see, half hidden by the forest, what appeared to be a perfectly sterotypical witch's hovel on the shore. It was as perfectly spooky as a picture on a Halloween card.
Quaraun wasn't noticing the pond or the hoval on the other side. He was too busy slumped over a boulder, vomiting. The poor Elf was not doing much better then he had been eariler when they had seen the sign post directing them to the pond.
"How long does this stuff take to wear off?" ZooLock asked Unicorn.
The priest was becoming increasingly agitated by the Elf's increased lack of sanity.
"No way to tell." Unicorn's bolsterous expression stilled and grew serious. "I did no see what he took or how much. I usualy monitor these things. Him small Elf. Do'na take much to get him gone loopy. Him too prone to overdose himself for me to trust him taking anyt'ing on hims own."
"He's done this before then?" ZooLock twisted several puce tentacles worriedly. "I'm not happy with the idea of him tampering with his mind. Think of how this effects the eggs... the poor Sacred Pink Jelly Fish."
"He be high almost every day."
"He is?"
"Aye."
"I've never seen him do this before."
ZooLock stared at the spaced out Elf.
"No. Him usually not take enough to make it act like this. He took too much of somet'ng. Would help if I knew what it was him took. It'll wear off after a while though. Not much we can do but wait."
"How long does it usually last?"
"Six hours."
"Six hours! Six hours of this? What will that do to the wee ba... the Jelly Fish?"
"Ayha." Unicorn answered. "Six hours minimum. Twelve hours if he took other stuff same time, which he might have. Days, if he took a lot. Him took took much it could kill him or damage him. I has seen other take too much stays with them weeks. Un I t'ink the Jelly Fish the one what does it. Him did no take this stuff before him had Jelly brain ya know."
"Why do you give him anything like that?"
"Him in pain. It help. But I knows how to give him. I give him 'nough to calm him, Help sleep wid out de pain. Dis... dis, what we see now. Him take too much. Un what I give him. Even if him took too much, it no do dis. Him took some'ing else. I know not what. Many t'ing have dis reaction."
"What can you do?"
"To help him? Not much. Not when I knows not what him took. Just watch him. Try un keep him calm. Wait for it to wear off. Hope it not hurt him 'fore it does. Dis not good t'ing him did. Him no understand drugs. Him t'ink like child."
"You said he was in pain?"
"Aye."
"Why?"
"Him sad. Him lonely. Him miss him children. Un BoomFuzzy."
"But he killed his children and you are BoomFuzzy."
"Him loved his children. Him is tormented by what him done. I suspect him were quite high when him kill them. Him no good at no taking too much. When him sad him take too much. No realize it. Forget he take it, take again. When him very sad, him take many times too much. I left him once. Gone long time. We had fight. Him try to kill me."
"Kill you?"
"Tie me up. Put me on altar. Cut me gullet open. Him out of head bad then. I almost die. So I leave. No come back. Gone many months. Him badly regret what happen. Him much nicer to me now. Scared I leave again if him even raise voice. So him be very submissive to me now. Him were not so before. Him scared of himself now. Him knows him have problem, know not what to do. Him kill him best friend. Now him very scared."
"He killed someone else?"
"Him kill many some one else's. Him kill Moon Elves. Sun Elves. A Pixie village. Everyone in valle of Katopas. The Di'Jinn."
"He didn't used to be like this."
"No. Un him no remember what him do. Too high when him do it. Him see dead people after un no knows do it. If very scared. Him no want hurt people."
"Which bring me back to my question: why give it to him?"
"I already done tolds ya. What I give him, it no what make him do these t'ings. Him take other t'ings. T'ings I no give him. I tell him not to. Tell no do dat. Him no can stop."
"He didn't take drugs. Not before he met you. You're a drug deal."
"I Faerie. We all make these things. It no meant for none Fae to take. It no do to us wat it do to Elves and Humans."
"He shouldn't take it."
"Ya should no has put Jelly Fish in him head."
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"Ya Sacred Pink Jelly Fish is very unhappy at being implanted in him head, ya know? She wanted her freedom. When ya kidnapped her out of her ocean. She dreamed of escape. When ya kept her looked in a tiny bowl of water, she hoped to return to her sea. Now she trapped for eternity in the skull of an Elf. She can no stand it. It torture for her. She not born inside Elf body like ya was. She was feral Thullid in natural state. Ya took that away from her. It why she keeping ya in chains now. Yis be priest what put her in this Elf. She want ya to know what it feels like to have ya freedom taken away."
"I was not trying to hurt her. I never wanted to hurt her. I saved her. The rebels would have killed her. Putting her in this Elf was the only way to save her life."
"Ya killed the Elf. I t'ink she would rather have died instead. Only t'ing that keeps her going is trying to be the Elf she killed. And she having a hard time of that or t'is sort of t'ing would na keep a happening."
"And you don't know what he took?"
"Him were picking flowers. I did nae knows he was eating them as well. I could have paids attention to which ones he was eating, had I gone and thunk he would eat them."
"What might he have eaten?"
"Poppies most likely. We was in a field of poppies. Shit ton load of poppies back in that field. More likely was drinking raw tears, straight from the pod. Not as strong as if it were refined, but certainly different reaction from normal. Or Morning Glories. There could have been some morning glories out there. Right time of year for the seed pods on them too. A handful of those would has done this to him. Or mushrooms. Mushrooms is everywhere and him be known to grab a few of those from time ta time. And spearmint. Been seeing that everywhere. He could has been chewing on it all day. Who knows? All thems grow wilds around here. Who knows what else? I does nae knows this forest. All sorts of strange tings could be out here for him to nibble on and get wonky with."
"You do not suggest he just randomly eats plants not knowing what they'll do to him?"
"Oh fuck yeah. Him does it all the time. Always on look out for new plants to give him new highs. Him fucking wicked addicted to it in fact."
"And he does this frequently?"
"Aye. Every damn fucking day, him taking trips to the moon. Ya get used to it."
"Why have I never seen him do this before?"
"Well, usually I give him stuff and him does not go looking for it on him own. I knows how much to give him to keep him from going off fucking deep end like this, sos usually ya sees him just wide eyed and not acting too much out of character for him."
"So he took too much of something now?"
"Too much? Oh hell, yeah, too much of somet'ng and wrong time of day."
"What does time of day have to do with it?"
"In day time it impair him judgement, like what ya seeing right this now. I usually give it to him just before bed. Helps him sleep. Him too scared of sleep otherwise."
"He's scared to sleep?" ZooLock stared at the Elf. "How does one be scared of sleep?"
"Nightmares. Bad ones. Fucking pogo man."
"Pogo man? What's that?"
"I does no know. His dad murdered his mum when him was just wee lil pup of an Elf. Then him has murder of him four babies stuck in him head. And me fucking suicide does plague him every night. Him cling to me desperate to make sure I does no re-die on him again. Him no sleep well. Him go many weeks between sleep. So I make him happy dreams. Give him eggnog to send him to happy lands at night. This way him have happy dreams. Usually. I try to not give it to him during the day, on account of him get like this."
"That doesn't have anything to do with the things you do to him at night?"
"Aye. It does. That be a Yorhinbre bark. Oooh! Makes him all tingly in his balls! Gets him wanting to rub them on something to relieve the tension. Let's me rub me own balls on his. We both get to go to high heaven."
"Does he know you're drugging him so you can molest him?"
"Aye. It were his idea."
"His idea?"
"Him like the drugs. Him like getting the tingles in him balls. Him like getting double fucked up his arse by a double dicked horse. Him like hanging by his balls from the ceiling."
"He... what?"
"Heh ha! Ya should join us in bed sometime Squidy. T'ink of all de places ya could stick them tentacles."
"Why I never!"
Unicorn had let go of Quaraun and the Moon Elf wandered away from the road, zig-zagging back and forth along the edge of the pond.
"Hey!" Unicorn called out to the Elf. "Ya gets ya arse too close ya gonna fall in."
Quaraun wasn't listening however. He was too busy staring down at the pink and white lily pads growing along the edge. Unicorn trotted up beside Quaraun.
"Whatcha looking at?"
The pony stared down into the water, but saw nothing but lily pads floating quietly in the murky peat boggy muck that rippled along the pond's mossy edge. Suddenly Quaraun yelped and ran, stumbling across the road, and falling into the ditch.
"Oh fuck titties! What are ya doing in there?" Unicorn said as he trotted across the road. "Ya missed the pond when ya fell over. But ya fricking muckier here then had ya landed in the water."
"There is a fuzzy Swamp Shark after me," Quaraun said, terror dripping from his voice.
Unicorn looked back at the pond.
"There were nothing there," he said as he turned back to Quaraun.
ZooLock waddled over to the water and looked in. "Nope. Nothing here," he agreed with the horse.
"There's sharks in the water," Quaraun said as he huddled back against the tree he was leaning against. "They're falling out of the sky."
Quaraun pointed down to the water.
"Outta the sky?"
Quaraun nodded. Still pointing at the water.
"That not sky."
"What is it?" Quaraun whispered, his voice growing more fearful.
"It be water."
The Moon Elf's eyes widened even bigger then they already were.
"Water?"
"Ayah. Water."
"That's water?"
"Yep."
"Why is it up there?"
Unicorn brought his face close to the Elf's and looked deep into his eyes. Quaraun's pupils were dilated so much that the blue of his eyes was no where to be seen.
"Morning glories be me guess," Unicorn said to ZooLock. "Look at what it done to him eyes. Him eyes get like that when him has had too many morning glory seeds. Not sure him know how to count or measure. T'ree hundred seeds is him limit. He prob'y ate way more then that."
Quaraun screamed again and grabbed hold of Unicorn, hugging the pony for dear life.
"They're after me," the frightened Elf wailed.
"What is?" Unicorn crocked between the Elf's strangle hold on his throat, looking around and seeing nothing.
"Sharks. They want my testicles."
"Oh boy. Here he goes. Sharks live in oceans. This here be pond. Swampy pond."
"They're Swamp Sharks," Quaraun whispered. "They're gonna take my eggs!"
"There be no such t'ing."
"They're covered with fur. We need to escape."
"Sharks don't has no fur."
"They're right behind you. They'll eat us."
"I sees nothing."
"You never do," ZooLock added. "Even if there was something there, you wouldnt see it. You're blind."
"Yis not helping, ZooLock."
"I saw them," Quaraun whispered.
"I bet ya did," Unicorn whinnied. "Ya gone loopy today. I does no doubt ya seeing a lot of t'ings right now."
"I see a meadow up ahead," ZooLock pointed out. "Perhaps we should get him over there. He can rest for a few hours. We can watch for danger from the hill and he could sleep off whatever this is he's on."
"Aye. Excepting him no gonna sleep. Him wide awake and ready to run at every sound. More so then usual. Him got lots o t'ing to run from around him right now. Not sure what him took. Mushroom maybe. Him seeing bad shit wanting to kill him, that not usual."
Unicorn turned back into his Humanoid form and reached he hand out to the fallen Moon Elf who was still sitting in the mud in the ditch.
"Come on, we sees a place ya can rest. No sharks to bite ya balls off over there. See?"
Unicorn pointed towards the direction ZooLock had suggested the meadow to be in. He couldn't see the meadow, but he assumed ZooLock to be telling the truth. Being almost blind, he couldn't really do anything else.
When they reached the meadow, Unicorn directed Quaraun to sit and rest rest. He sat down beside the Elf and watched as Quaraun, once again, slowly fell over and then stared up at the sun.
"There's no sharks on the sun," Quaraun said.
"Nope, not one," Unicorn agreed. "Ya balls is safe here."
Nothing else happened for quiet some time. Quaraun spent the rest of the day, laying on his back, intently watching the clouds drift by and pointing out the various monsters he saw jumping out of them, while Unicorn and ZooLock, tried to patently wait for the drugged Elf to come back to his senses.
~o0o~
Several hours slowly drifted past and soon the pink glaze of sunset was whispering against the big fluffy white clouds.
"There's a pretty, pink sequined axolotli up there," Quaraun said, pointing up at the clouds. His voice sounded clear and normal again.
"What a axolotli?" Unicorn asked.
"A white salamander that lives under the water."
"That was a full and complete sentence."
Quaraun turned his head and looked at the Faerie Horses sitting beside him.
"Why wouldn't it be?"
"Ya been gibbering about strange t'ngs all day, most of them not coming out in full sentences, half the time slurred up so much ya can no tell what words it was ya were intending to be saying."
"I took too much of something, didn't I?"
"Aye. Ya did."
Quaraun sat up and looked around.
"my head hurts."
"I bet it does."
"I feel weird."
"Yis still high. Just less loopy."
"I feel like I'm flying outside of my head."
"That not good."
"I feel like there's two of me, trying to break out and run away in different directions."
"What did ya take?"
"Nothing. I didn't take anything."
"Ya took somet'ing."
"I don't remember taking anything."
"Maybe ya forgot when sharks was after ya."
"Sharks?"
"Ya was out of ya head for a bit. A bit more then a bit."
"I feel like I still am."
"What ya feeling?"
"Like I'm falling. Like everything around me is a big black hole and I'm just falling and I can't stop. Make it go away. I want it to stop. I feel like I'm falling out of the sky. Forver ever and ever and I can't hit the ground. And there's blackness tring to swallow my feet."
"I tinks ya is still seeing tings."
"Make it stop."
"Make what stop?"
"I can't stop falling."
"Yis got ye bum sitting firmly on ground."
Quaraun looked down at the ground then ran his hand through the grass.
"I can see it."
"See what?"
"The ground. It's there. I can see it there. Why... I feel like I'm falling through it and it's not there. I can see I'm not."
"And ya can no remember what ye took?"
"I didn't take anything. I know I didn't."
"Maybe someting got in ya food? Ya eat any wild berries or plants or mushrooms. Anyt'ing that look normal, but may have not been what ya t'ought it were."
"I don't think so. Where are we?"
"Having a moment of quiet contemplation on a nice grassy knoll overlooking Witch Pond."
"Witch Pond?" Quaraun gazed out over the swampy pond. "What are we doing here?"
"Ya tells me. It be ya idea to come here."
"It was?"
"Ya was tripping quiet a lot this morning."
"Yes. I remember ... some .... of it. How did we get here?"
"We does what we always does. We walked. We kind of half dragged ya. Ya was looking at stars and moons where there were none."
"I'm dirty."
"Yis feeling somewhat better if ya noticing the dirt."
"There's dirt on me."
"Yeah, ya kept laying in the road. Could nea get ya to stand up most of the day."
"I need a bath," Quaraun said.
"Aye."
Quaraun stood up quickly, then stumbled and sat back down.
"I'm dizzy."
"Yeah. Ya nay out of de woods yet."
"I need a bath."
"Ya will drown ya self if ya can not stand up."
"Help me bathe."
Unicorn helped Quaraun as he bathed himself. It always amazed Unicorn that this Elf who daily sought out a brook, pond, river, lake, or ocean to wade into and bathe himself, was also the same Elf who ran screaming in mortal terror from bridges, had a horrific fear of crossing water via fallen logs, avoided rain, and spent an inordinate amount of time worrying that he'd fall into inch deep mud puddles and drown.
“Tell me how it is," Unicorn asked Quaraun. "That ya be so fearfully terrified of every wee little thing. Water afearing ya more then most things. How does someone so terrified of water, bathe so much?”
Quaraun looked down at the water he was currently waist deep in.
"I am scared of water, but I'm more afraid of being dirty.”
"Ya is dirty this time, but what about all the other times?"
"Other times?"
"Ya bathe every damn day. That ain't normal. No one else does. Ya know de Humans have laws against it. Exicute ya as a witch iffy ya bathe more then twice a year."
"I'm not a Human."
"Elves does no bathe this much ether."
"JellyFish do."
"Yis trying to live in water, but yis trapped in body what can no breath under water, then eh?"
"Yeah."
"I almost drowned once. I didn't know... I didn't Elves couldn't beath under water. I don't want to lose this body. Have to change Elves. This body is beautiful."
"It is that."
As they sit on grassy hill overlooking Witch Pond, which is actually a large swamp, edged with dead wood trees, Quaraun contemplated the events of the day. The ones which he could remember, that is. The murky water was covered with lily pads and cattails along the roadside edge. To the far side across the pond, he could see a beaver damn. Beaver chewed tree stumps stood here and there around the road side. Quaraun was sitting with his knees pulled up to his chest, his chin resting on his knees. Unicorn, in the form of a little black Shetland pony, was sitting beside the Elf, quietly munching on grass. ZooLock was laying on the grass to the other side of Quaraun and had fallen asleep.
"This is a nice place," Quaraun said quietly.
"It is," Unicorn agreed.
"Where are we?"
"I'd say ya has arrived at a vast, dark, foggy swamp."

Back from the dead, once again with Unicorn in tow, and now with the Thullid priest ZooLock his prisoner shackled in chains, Quaraun is headed back to The Screaming Unicorn Tavern in Old Orchard Beach, but finds himself cursed with endless bad luck, as one thing after another drops out of the sky in his path.
Highwaymen, hellhounds, a turtle as big as a house, fire breathing butterflies, a train station from the 20th century, and a strange glow-in-the-dark demonic wizard with pockets full of sheep, who sits in a red armchair in poppy field in the 1400s reading 1980s spellbooks books by Gary Gaygax.
Quaraun goes head to head against The Gremlin, a time traveling wizard from the future who refuses to allow the Pink Necromancer back into Old Orchard Beach, where since his last visit, an evil Sorcerer named HellBorne has erected a giant cursed lighthouse known as The Black Tower.
ZooLock however has other plans, and while 4 rival wizards tear up the town in a wizard's duel, the Squid Headed Aliens From Neptune's Moon and their armies of JellyFish worshiping cultists arrive in town to preform a ritual that will unleash an Elder Brain Chaos Demon, known as The Sacred Pink JellyFish on the world. Too bad they didn't know she was already in town.
NOTE: Most of this novel will be available as free to read online.
(The End?)
The Summoner of Darkness is the first time The Gremlin, EelKat, Lyxiana, Bela, and Spriggan (all characters from the original 1978 edition of Friends Are Forever, Volume 1 of The Twighlight Manor Series) make appearances in The Quaraun series.
While most of the Quaraun series is written with Quaraun as the only point of view character, EelKat, the primary point of view character of the Twighlight Manor series, alternates with Quaraun as a point of view character in Summoner of Darkness.
The novel tells 2 stories side by side, with all odd numbered chapters telling Quaraun's version of the story in the 1400s, and all even numbered chapters being written as letters from EelKat in the 1980s to her sister Lynxian.
EelKat is a 4th wall meta breaking narrator.

This is the first time GhoulSpawn appears using the name GhoulSpawn. In previous volumes he was using the name Glinta instead.
In the Twighlight Manor series he is known as The Gremlin.
Quaraun's teenaged lover GhoulSpawn is a "natural born" Sorcerer. He is a half-Elf/half Demon.
GhoulSpawn's father was an evil Demon who commanded an army of Ghouls. Because of this, he was known simply as "The Ghoul".
GhoulSpawn's mother was a Sun Elf whom had fallen in love with The Ghoul, but was forbidden by her family to have contact with him. She in turn ran away with her Demon lover, thus causing a war between Elves and Demons.
The Sun Elves tell a story of how their Princess was kidnapped and raped by the Ghoul, thus she gave birth to the Spawn of the Ghoul. Though his mother named him Glinta, she died while he was still very young, and his Elven kin, took to calling him GhoulSpawn as a way to brand him not one of them.
GhoulSpawn is an interdimensional time traveller, because he is unable to remain in any one time, place or dimension long, because he was born in the Hell Dimension, which exists outside of the realm of time and space as we know it. The Ghoul tried to escape the Sun Elves by going to the distant future (1974) and leaving his half-Elf son and the boy's mother there to live among a band of LSD addicted hippie Humans whom drove a 1974 AMC Gremlin.
The Sun-Elves eventually found their missing she-Elf and brought her back to the 1400s where she belonged, but she refused to leave her half-Demon son behind.
After his mother's death, GhoulSpawn was made a servant to his High Elf step-father and full blooded Elf step siblings, all of whom abused him and treated him like a slave. He grew up constantly being told he, because he was only a half-Elf, was unloved and unwanted and should have been killed at birth, resulting in the very low self esteem he has.
Neither Demons nor half-Elves are considered welcomed members of society, both being forced to live in small tribal groups on the outskirts of civilization. Both are often stoned to death or hung if they dare set foot in a city.
GhoulSpawn being both a Demon and a half-Elf is doubly mistreated by the majority of the world's population. He takes to travelling with Quaraun because Quaraun simply accepts GhoulSpawn as he is and is not bothered by being seen in the company of either a Demon or a half-Elf.
There are several instances when people try to bully GhoulSpawn and Quaraun (a high ranking full-blooded aristocratic High Elf) is quick to stand up for him, protecting and defending the half-Elf. Quaraun is often classified by other Elves as "insane" simply because he is willing to be friends with a half-Elf.
GhoulSpawn has a speech impediment which lessens when he is relaxed and grows worse the more nervous or frightened he becomes.
Around calm laid back characters like Quaraun, GhoulSpawn speaks without difficulty. However around domineering, headstrong, or bullying characters such as Unicorn or HellBorne, GhoulSpawn develops a stutter, making it difficult for him the get to the end of a sentence.
Because he is a Demon, GhoulSpawn was born with natural magical abilities, making him a rare "natural born wizard" or sorcerer.
GhoulSpawn is typical of a Sorcerer in the Quaraun series, in that he has Demon blood, was thus born with a Demon's natural ability to cast magic on some levels, has taking to self-teaching himself how to control the magic powers he was born with, is outcast from society because of his link to Demons, and is generally not well thought of, even though he is not in any way evil, and is in fact the only part of the cast who could be considered anything close to being a Hero.
Being a time traveller, there are times when Quaraun encounteres both GhoulSpawn and his future counterpart Gremlin in the same novel.
This is the first novel in the series to feature multiple versions of GhoulSpawn in a single novel.
GhoulSpawn remains one of the most hated and most loved characters in the series. People who dislike him, absolutely despise him and have gone so far as to request I remove his character from the series entirely. While people who love him, often cite him as their favourite character and often request I add him into more stories more often.
For the people who don't like him, I'm sorry, but he remains one of my favourite characters of the series and he's not going anywhere.
For the people who want to see more of him: there are plans to make changes to several stories in the series to include him in the future editions, more often.
You can find out more about GhoulSpawn here:

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This novel was originally written in: 2014 - 2016
This novel was originally written on: 2014 - 2016
This page last updated on: April 17, 2017
This page was written by Wendy Christine Allen of 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine.
All Rights Reserved.
While there are around 20k pages on this website, most of them are blocked from search engines, with only around 800 of them available for appearing in Google/Bing/etc search results. The remainder can only be accessed via the various links found throughout this site. This was done deliberately on my part, and I did it because the bulk of the pages on this website are chapters from 138 novels and 423 novellas, so only the first page of each novel and novella indexed by search engines, and the remainder are linked in order, one page at a time, via clicking "next page" at the end of each. So if you are looking for a specific page from a specific novel, Google can't help you.
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Get an email whenever Wendy Christine Allen 🌸💖🦄 aka EelKat 🧿💛🔮👻 publishes on Medium.
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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.
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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.
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There are no ebook editions as they are already available digitally here on my website.