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. |
(This Chapter is NSFW)


Please Note: The Quaraun Series Is Rated M18+ and you must be 18 or older to buy it.
Why is the Quaraun Series Rated M18+?
You can Find out more about the main characters here:
Please note, this site is the Home Site for The Adventures of The Pink Necromancer aka The Quaraun Series.
The Quaraun series is a set of 130 Fantasy novels about a suicidal, drug addicted, serial killing, transvestite wizard.
Due to the content of the books, you must be 18 or older to buy them and they are sold under M18+ ratings in countries that require book ratings on the cover.
Most pages on EelKat.com are either sample chapters from these Dark Fantasy Yaoi novels or how-to advice and Q&As about writing Dark Fantasy Bizarro Yaoi, and thus many pages feature mention of suicide, drug use, cutting, depression, BDSM fetishes especially CBT, schizophrenia, ritual murder, and thus many pages are probably NSFW.
Reader discretion is advised.

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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.
The Journey Begins
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a short Novel of only 100,000 words
(fewer than 180 paperback pages)
This chapter is...
Word count: 000
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0 paperback pages.

<<< Previous Chapter:
~o0o~ Chapter ~o0o~
Quaraun decided it best not the stay in the village and returned to the road hoping it would lead to another village before nightfall. This area was heavily populated and built up, so villages were many and roads short between. He had counted the mile markers and had determined each town was about 10 miles apart. Quaraun knew he would have little trouble walking 10 miles before night came.
As had happened earlier though, Quaraun couldn't help but feel he was being followed, but when he looked the only thing he saw was a glossy black crow strolling down the path behind him. As he had expected, 10 miles brought him to more farms once again dotting the road. The road soon lead to yet another village and he found himself in yet another tavern. This one, seemed to be no less scummy then the last one though. He had not expected anything different either. Quaraun was after all staying on the coast and following the road South, meaning he was more or less simply going from one sea port to the next.
Merchants, sailors, drunks, prostitutes, and pirates, in between farms and fisherman. There didn’t seem to be much else in this region. It would have been safer travelling had Quaraun simply gone a few miles inland and stuck to the larger cities or the quieter towns and avoided the sea ports. But, The Guild was still after him, and The Guild was scared to set foot in these the fishing villages on the outskirts. Necromancy was illegal, and with the trail of bodies Quaraun left in his path, the price on his head was getting higher every day. There wasn’t a Guild member out there would wouldn’t think twice about killing him on sight.
The crime in these coastal villages was horrendous, and though The Guild prided themselves in upholding the law, they were nothing more then a group of overstuffed, wealthy men who would much rather be sitting in their cushy smoking lounges then chasing a renegade wizard through the slums of the port regions. And so, while this town and it’s tavern, both looked every bit as distasteful as the last ones, Quaraun felt he would be safer here, then risking running into Guild members in a less lawless town.
Quaraun was only in this new village a few moments before he saw a group of Dwarves done on the docks.
“Oh, not more Dwarfs. I’ve had enough Dwarfs for one day.”
Quaraun quickly made his way through the tiny sea port, into a building that he assumed was something akin to a tavern. It sold drinks at least and that was all he cared about. Judging from the women gathered on the door step and on the tables inside, he gathered it was also a whore house. Like every town he entered, Quaraun stood out not only for his bright pink clothes, but also for his being an Elf. Elves being nearly extinct now, left all who saw an Elf in awe of that fact that there was still an Elf alive. The rowdy group of Dwarves, seeing an Elf enter the town, had followed Quaraun, and he had only been in the tavern a few minutes, before they came blundering in, now with Bullgaar in tow.
"That's him, right there!" Said the young Dwarf to Bullgaar.
“Really?”
“Yeah, recognized him soon as I saw him.”
One of the prostitutes, hearing the Dwarfs talking, joined them and asked: “You know the Elf?”

"It's Quaraun the Insane.”
“Who?”
“The Pink Necromancer. He’s like the most wanted criminal in the world.”
“What’s he wanted for?”
“Murder. He’s the Necromancer who murdered Gibedon. He's a serial killer, he's been killing wizards and mages up and down the coast, and now he's here in our village, bet he's here to kill someone."
“Damn,” Bullgaar said. “I just ran into him earlier on the road today. I took him for a cowardly little pussy.”
The oversized Giant Dwarf came storming up to the table where the Necromancer sat. Quaraun looked up and saw Bullgaar, than shook his head.
"Oh, no, not you again," he muttered.
"You're Quaraun the Insane, are you?" demanded Bullgaar.
"Yes, I am," Quaraun averted his eyes from Bullgaar. The memory of their last encounter was still fresh in his mind. Quaraun began trembling in fear. He was frail and in poor health. He knew he could not defend himself against the Dwarf and certainly didn’t want to be raped again.
"Woo, whoo Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!" Bullgaar roared jovially as he slapped the thin Elf hard on the back, nearly knocking him from his chair. "Well, what do you know! Not only did I fuck an Elf, I fucked the great Quaraun the Insane! Wait till I tell the boys!"
"Please, don't," begged Quaraun, knowing it was fuitial the make such a request. It was humiliating enough for him that it had happened, without anyone knowing about it.
The Dwarf pulled a chair around backwards and sat in it facing Quaraun. "So, I made the big bad fancy pants Necromancer my little bitch. How does it feel to be bitch to a Dwarf?"
"Humiliating, please leave alone.”
“Leave you alone? You scared of me?”
“Yes.”
“Ha! Ha! You’re funny, ain’t ya.”
“I wasn’t trying to be.”
“You like getting fucked don’t you?”
“Not by Dwarfs I don’t.”
“You been fucked before. I can tell.”
“I much prefer Phookas" Quaraun said not looking at Bullgaar. "Please leave me alone."
"Ah! No hard feelings Elf," Bullgaar slapped the Elf on the back again. "I don't normally fuck around with Elves. But you interrupted my booty call, had to teach ya a lesson."
"Fine, lesson learned, please leave me alone."
"That really upset you now didn't it?" Bullgaar sounded concerned.
"Yes, it did. Now well you please leave me alone."
"You know I was only fooling around with you, right? I wasn't really gonna cut your balls off. Wouldn't do that to a man, not even ifing he was a frilly little fancy pants dress wearing lady-man-Elf like yourself."
"Thank you. Please leave me alone."
"Don't take it so hard, Elf," Bullgaar patted Quaraun on his silken white head, like he was a kitten. "I didn't mean nothing by it. 'Was just roughing you up is all. I didn't mean to make you all upset like this."
"Thank you, now, please leave me alone."
"You know you ain't that bad, for an Elf."
Quaraun said nothing. He didn't want to talk to the Dwarf. He hated Dwarves more then he hated Faeries.
"I got half a mind to throw you up on that there table and fuck you right now in front of everyone."
"I don't want to be fucked by a Dwarf, thank you." Quaraun began looking for a quick way out of this building. He was certain the Dwarf was just bold enough to do as he threatened.
"Kind of like to see what you got up there under your skirts again. Those balls of yours felt nice and meaty when I had a hold of them. Plus you didn't get your little scrawny white ass fucked nearly enough, last time."
Quaraun looked up at the Dwarf, their eyes meeting for the first time. The Elf looked frightened. He opened and shut his mouth several times, attempted to speak, but not sure what to say. He was at a complete lose for words and felt like he would faint again.
"I don't want my ass fucked," Quaraun finally said, still staring wide eyed at the Dwarf.
Bullgaar, roared in laughter as he punched Quaraun hard in the shoulder, knocking him and his chair off balance. Quaraun spread his arms trying to break his fall, but the Dwarf grabbed his elbow and steadied him.
"I gots a secret for ya," Bullgaar said in a half whisper, not that he whispered very well. His voice boomed no matter how low he tried to make it.
"Is it something I actually want to know?" Quaraun said sarcastically.
"I'm only a half-Dwarf."
"No!" Quaraun faked shock and went back to his meal.
"It's true," Bullgaar said, as though he thought Quaraun was hanging on his every word. "Mother, bless her soul, was a Mountain Dwarf, but my father, what do you think he was?"
"A Mountain troll?" Quaraun wise-cracked, thinking it would certainly explain the extra-large size of this jumbo Dwarf.
"Well, yer, not far off."
The Rock Gnome barmaid came with the drinks. Bullgaar shoved a coin between her breasts, exposing one delicate pink nipple as he did, slapped her bottom, and than guzzled down his mug in a single gulp.
"More!" he bellowed to the girl, slapping her bottom again. She giggled and bounced back to the tap, neglecting to pull her top back up, and allowing her exposed breast to bob along freely as she bounded across the room.
Quaraun, watched as the Dwarf watched the young woman's jiggling bobbies, than shook his head.
"You're vulgar," he muttered under his breath.
"What was that?" Boomed Bullgaar, turning back to the Elf.
"Nothing. You was telling me about your mother," Quaraun reminded the Dwarf, hoping to avoid a fight. Quaraun took the glass the Rock Gnome had left for him, held it up to the light and stared thoughtfully at the swirling yellow blobs, that were fizzling in the opaline blue liquid. There was an orange slice on the edge of the glass. The drink smelt nightmarish like burnt hot chocolate and vomit. He put the glass back down, not daring to drink the strange looking concoction.
The barmaid returned with another drink for Bullgaar, the nipple of her exposed breast now tightened and perky after having been exposed to the cool night air.
"What is this?" Quaraun asked the half naked barmaid, holding up the glass of blue and yellow globby syrup.
The barmaid opened her mouth to answer, but the only thing that came out was: "The locals drink it on special occasions and today is... Whoooooah!"
Bullgaar had grabbed the chubby little Rock Gnome by the waist, tossed her skirts up over the back of her head, and slammed her face down onto the table, right into Quaraun's plate, as Bullgaar pulled his own pants down and began rubbing his hard erect dick on her plump bare ass. She braced her hands on the edge of the table as the Dwarf began to fuck her swollen wet pussy from behind.

Quaraun sat back in his chair, watching the Dwarf violently fucking the Rock Gnome, on the table in front of him, as she howled like a wild animal. Her pussy juices squirted onto the table as she squealed to the pounding she was receiving.
"Oh by the gods, do you mind!" Quaraun said, but Bullgaar wasn't listening.
Quaraun looked around the room, wondering why no one was doing anything about this, and another barmaid, seeing the confusion on his face, knelt over and whispered into his long pointed ear:
"He does that to us all the time. She's his favourite."
"How delightful," Quaraun replied dryly. "I seem to need another plate, and another meal...,"
"OOOOHHHH" both the Gnome and the Dwarf groaned as their fluids mingled on the table.
"...and a clean table," Quaraun added. “One preferably with no Dwarf cum on it.”
"Now!" Bullgaar boomed as he dropped the Rock Gnome, and stood up facing Quaraun. "It's your turn."
Quaraun tried to leap up and run, but Bullgaar had a hold of him before he could think to do so. Bullgaar bear hugged the Elf from behind, as he began fumbling to pull up the wizard's long bubblegum pink, heart embroidered robes.
"No," Quaraun cried out, as he struggled to pull free of the Dwarf's tight grasp. "Please! No, please don't!"
Bullgaar squeezed the skinny Elf tighter, Quaraun felt as though his ribs would shatter under the pressure. The large Dwarf lifted the wizard up off the ground. Quaraun could feel Bullgaar's hard dick raised up under his ass, poking up between his legs to the front and pressing hard up under his balls.
"Please don't," the Elf cried out again, as he gasped for air, struggling desperatly to break free of the giant Dwarf's iron grasp. Bullgaar was squeezing Quaraun's ribs too tight, the air was sapping away out of his lungs, his head felt light, the room went blurry.
"Bullgaar, stop that this instant, put that Elf down right now!"
The woman's voice was the last thing Quaraun heard before passing out.
<<< Previous Chapter:
Next Chapter: >>>

Picking up immediately where The Night of The Screaming Unicorn ends... Quaraun continues on his way to Inuvik, intending to kill himself once he arrives home, only to find that in his 300 year absence, a Human village has been built up over the remains of the decimated Moon Elf village.
Quaraun's sanity wavers more than ever, as he questions the reality of his two traveling companions, both of whom he is certain he murdered years ago. Quaraun decides to head back to the coast in search of the Unicorn, but can't shake the feeling he's being followed.
BeLuna the Gnome, oddly still alive these 300 years after the destruction of the Moon Elf Village and still sitting in the exact same spot where Quaraun had left her 300 years ago, joins the Elf in his search for the Unicorn.
Annoyingly for Quaraun, BeLuna disappears whenever any one else is around and is nowhere to be found when he crosses paths with a gang of Elf hating drunk Dwarves and again when Orcs show up.
Wandering aimlessly through the forest, lost and now accompanied by a disappearing Gnome and a silent Dwarf, Quaraun is at a loss to explain who his companions are or why they are following him. Rumors that the serial killing Pink Necromancer is now travelling the countryside building an army of Gnomish Ghosts and Dwarven Zombies doesn't help matters any.
Things are not right with Quaraun's two new companions, and it takes an Undead Unicorn to show the Necromancer there are some things no one else can see.
TRIGGER WARNING:
This volume contains heavy use of suicide, cutting, and depression references, including graphic on page descriptions of cutting and suicide attempts.
If you suffer from depression, anxiety, suicidal thoughts, or are easily upset by such things, it is highly recommended that you avoid reading any of this novel.
(Some of these free to read online sample chapters are NSFW)
The Journey Begins, is Part 2 of The Night of The Screaming Unicorn:
Home Again
The Gnome That Refused To Stay Dead
Raped By The Mountain Dwarf
Alone Again
Bullgaar the Vulgar (NSFW)
The Dwarf's Wife
A Dwarf In The Night
Gnomes and Dwarves That Are Not There
The Black Jaguar/The Phooka
The Elf Eater of Pepper Valley/That Bastard Murdered Me! Wait? Why Aren't I Dead?
The Double Dicked Unicorn
How To Properly Fuck an Elf
Humans For Dinner
Another Day, Another Town
Ooloff The Stupid
Oolong The Wise
Waiter, There's a Head In My Soup
The Orcs and The Necromancer (NSFW)

Please note, this site is the Home Site for The Adventures of The Pink Necromancer aka The Quaraun Series.
The Quaraun series is a set of 2,000 short stories and 130 Fantasy novels about a suicidal, drug addicted, serial killing, transvestite wizard.
Due to the content of the books, you must be 18 or older to buy them and they are sold under M18+ ratings in countries that require book ratings on the cover.
These morbid novels do not have happy endings, and main character Quaraun's depression, suicidal nature, and drug use gets worse as the series progresses. If you are looking for cheerful, happy stories, these novels are not for you.
Most pages on EelKat.com are either sample chapters from these Dark Fantasy Yaoi novels or how-to advice and Q&As about writing Dark Fantasy Bizarro Yaoi, and thus many pages feature mention of suicide, drug use, cutting, depression, BDSM fetishes especially CBT, schizophrenia, ritual murder, and thus many pages are probably NSFW.
Please be aware that this site is considered an "Adult Entertainment" website and by viewing it you agree that you are over the age of 18 years old.
Reader discretion of both the Quaraun novels and the pages of this website is advised.
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ZooLock the Great |
Characters: |
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The World: |
The Adventures of Quaraun The Insane: First draft/sample chapters from the novels.
NOTE: The scenes and chapters featured here, are from the unedited first drafts, and NOT from the finished published novels. This was done because many readers had asked to see what the first drafts looked like to see how different they were from the finished product. Because these are from the unedited first drafts, they contain spelling and grammar errors, typos, and sections that are still unrevised. These errors are corrected in the final published editions.
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The Quaraun series is a set of 130 Fantasy novels about a suicidal, drug addicted, serial killing, bi-sexual, polyamorous/polygamous, masochistic, time traveling transvestite Elf wizard, his sex crazed, sadistic, drug dealing unicorn, and their bloodthirsty sentient house. The Quaraun series contains heavy use of the following:
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The Quaraun series has been banned by the following:The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints aka The Mormon Church (1991) (Reason: too much sex) (Interestingly, there were no sex scenes in the series before 2014) The Arundel Christian Tabernacle, Biddeford-Arundel, Maine (2001) (Reason: evil and influenced by Satan) New Life Church, Biddeford, Maine (2003) (Reason: Too gay for the family friendly church) (Interestingly, there were no gay characters in the series before 2014) Fan-Fiction.net (2012) (Reason: Too violent) Curtis Lake Church, Sanford, Maine (2013) (Reason: Too gay for the family friendly church) (Interestingly, there were no gay characters in the series before 2014 and I added gay characters to the series BECAUSE of this false complaint) Old Orchard Beach Town Hall of the Town of Old Orchard Beach, Maine, a division of the United States of America Government (January 4, 2016 via court order)(State of Maine, Biddeford District Court: Docket #BDDC-PA-2015-00574) (Reason #1: Too gay for the family friendly town of Old Orchard Beach)(Reason #2: Contains transgender characters depicted as living in Old Orchard Beach, in violation of the ordinance which states Old Orchard Beach is a "Family Friendly Town" by virtue of it's ban on LGBTQ+ residents) NOTE: As a result of this ban, and my discovery that OOB had an ordinance banning LGBTQ citizens from living in our town, an additional court case rose up, and on October 21, 2016, Alfred Superior Court overruled the ordinance banning LGBTQs in OOB, AND overturned the town hall's ban on the Quaraun series, citing that both the ordinace baning LGBTQ residents and the court order ordering the Quaraun books to be removed from Amazon.comto be "gross violations of civil rights".) Did you notice how 3 different places used the exact same phrase of "Too gay for the family friendly..." In each of these three cases the exact same minister was behind the ban. |
Do you agree? #reading #quote pic.twitter.com/t3VjaM6UE7
— Janneke Jobsis-Brown (@JJobsisBrown) March 1, 2018
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Volume 13: King Gwallmaiic, The Elf Eater of Pepper Valley |
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Volume 00: 000000 Volume 00: 000000 Volume 00: 000000 Volume 24: The Dread Chant of the Fan Boys |
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Volume 00: 000000 Volume 23: The Return To Fire Mountain Volume 00: 000000 |
Volume 27: The Sorcerer's Tower of Cake
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Volume 00: 000000 Volume 31: The Crystal Palace of Mt. Demontooth Volume 00: 000000 |
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Volume 48: A Baby For The Necromancer
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Volume 00: 000000 Volume 58: Zebulon's Captive Volume 00: 000000 106: The Haunted Lighthouse |
Volume 00: 000000 Volume 00: 000000 Volume 107: The Battle of Ongadada |
Volume 00: 000000 Volume 00: 000000 Volume 00: 000000 Volume 108: Friends Are Forever (Volume 1 of The Twighlight Manor series) |
Volume 119: My Two Favorite People
Please Note: The Quaraun Series Is Rated M18+ and you must be 18 or older to buy it.
Most pages on EelKat.com are about writing, publishing, marketing, and CosPlaying Dark Fantasy, Bizarro, Gorn, Monster Porn, Torture Porn, CBT, Psychedelic Literature, Weird Lovecraftian Horror, Pink Humour Satire, & BDSM Yaoi.
With this in mind, some pages may not be safe for work and are marked as: [NSFW].
Reader discretion is advised.
Why is the Quaraun Series Rated M18+?

Book publishing hiatus: November 14, 2013 I was beaten up by a woman who claimed to be a unpublished author. I was paralyzed for 5 months and am still 4 years later relearning to use my legs & arms. While I was cripple, offline, and recovering these past 4 years, she next proceeded to hack my website and most all of my forum and social network accounts.
April 2015 she returned, filled my motorhome with 1,000s of gallons of feces/raw sewage and cut my cats heads off nailing them to my door. 10 cats are currently still missing.
October 2006 she blew up my house with a bomb, in May 2013 put a bomb in my classroom at college, November 2015 put a bomb in my department where I work at Walmart, and June 2016 put yet another bomb in WalMart. The FBI is trying to identity of this woman. More info about these terrorist attacks on my family can be found here: https://www.eelkat.com/1667Words.html
If you have any information about this woman, please contact the FBI agent in charge of the case, his contact info is on that page.
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.
>I also write on these locations: | Amazon | Ao3 | Blogger | GumRoad | Medium | Notd | OnlyFans | Tumblr | Vocal |
Do you know who drove this backhoe over my house at 146 Portland Avenue, Old Orchard Beach, Maine on August 8, 2013? If you have any information, please give it to FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 of the Portland, Maine FBI office.
My house at 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine, July 4, 2013, photo taken because we had just finished building a baby room on the back. vs My house August 8, 2013, when the same group of people (yes group, the golf club woman was not alone when she attacked November 14, 2013, nor was she alone with her second attack July 2016.) who murdered my son on November 14, 2013 at Southern Maine Community College and crippled me July 26, 2016 at scarborough WalMart,... they arrived the first time with a backhoe on August 8, 2013, that they used to drive over my house, during a time of day that I normally was home asleep... I had to work a different shift at the Waffle Cone Pizza Food Truck at George's Parking Lot by Bill's Pizza at the OBB Peir, that day, otherwise, I too would be at the bottom of a landfill, along with my house and everything I owned that was also in the house. I was 5 months pregnant at the time and have been homeless for just under 14 years, homeless ever since....
... which means it is now only a few weeks from the 14th anniversary of my son's murder. I was 8 month pregnant November 14, 2013, and a student ay SMCC, and coming out of the Buglight Lighthouse art studio after art class, when a still unidentifiedwoman wielding a golf club attacked me, severed my spine, while I was 8 months pregnant, triggered early labour, then killed my son minutes after he was born.
While accusing me of being transgender, screaming "transvestite freak" and "look at that thing, that's Ken's son in a dress"... while I was 8 months pregnant.
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.