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.
Massimara and her Orc guards all lay dead on the ground. Burned to ash.
Everyone in the crypt lay dead on the ground. Burned to ash.
Everyone in the castle lay dead on the ground. Burned to ash.
Everyone in the village lay dead as well. Burned to ash.
Every animal in the field, every bird, all dead.
The vast herds of Katopas galloping across the savannah, their bones lay blackened char.
The grass and the trees, burnt to stubble.
The river and all the streams, were evaporated.

Every man, woman, child, bird, insect, plant, and beast. All the cattle and horses and every last Katopa running wild in the savannah. For many miles around in all directions, all was dead. The silence of the sudden lack of birds to sing and insects to chirp, ate like a cancer at the little pink haired, green skinned Flower Gnome's soul as she stared in horror at the true power the Necromancer possessed. Long had she and Bullgaar heard the awe inspiring rumours of Quaraun's terrible powers, but this was the first time they had ever laid eyes on how great his control over life and death truly was.
As BeaLuna stared out at the blight that had struck the land, she shuddered in horror, for it was not just the people and the animals, but also the plants and trees. Every living thing had withered up and died. The rich green grass, hung brown and dead. Trees that moments ago, were lush and green with life, had dropped their leaves and their dry limbs now hung curled, brittle, lifeless and empty. For as far as the eye could see, no life existed, save Quaraun, BeaLuna, and Bullgaar, who now stood over the dead mutilated body of their Phookan friend.
"Quaraun?" BeaLuna asked. "What did you do?"
"They killed Unicorn."
There was no emotion in his voice.
There was nothing.
"And you killed them...and...and...and...everything else...but...how?"
"I'm a Necromancer. I can kill anyone in the blink of an eye.”
“This isn’t Necromancy.”
“I have full control over life and death.”
“What did you do?”
“I am a god.”
“What?”
“Anything with a soul can have its soul ripped out by my will.”
“Are you a Psion?”
“I am the Grand High Emperor of the Triple Planets.”
“What?”
“What him talking about?” Bullgaar asked BeaLuna.
“I don’t know.”
“What that Emperor shit?”
“It’s a Thullid reference.”
“Those squid beasts?”
“Yeah. The Cult of the Sacred Pink Jelly Fish. They worship some Elder Brain Demon God. That’s what they call it. The Grand High Emperor of the Triple Planets. Unicorn kept saying Quaraun wasn’t an Elf any more. Called him a Thullid.”
BeaLuna and Bullgaar watched the little Elf.
Quaraun hadn’t moved. He was still standing over Unicorn. BeaLuna wasn’t sure what to do. Or say. She had just witness this normally peaceful, quiet little Elf obliterate everything for miles around.
“Quaraun?” BeaLuna asked the wizard. “Are you okay?”
“They murdered my Unicorn with no reason.”
“But you killed just killed everyone ... and ...everything.”
“They don't deserve to live.”
“Quaraun? Everything deserves to live. You always say that. You never hurt anyone. You never even fight to defend yourself.”
“They killed Unicorn, just like my people killed BoomFuzzy.”
“BoomFuzzy commit suicide. No one killed him. Don’t you remember?”
“They didn't deserve to live either.”
“Who?”
“The Moon Elves. They all hated BoomFuzzy. They wanted him dead."
"Quaraun, you can't just kill people and animals and plants and everything around us like that. It's not right."
"They killed Unicorn. That wasn't right."
"But...Quaraun, you just murdered...everyone."
"They murdered BoomFuzzy."
“BoomFuzzy?”
“I loved BoomFuzzy.”
"Quaraun? BoomFuzzy died three hundred years ago. That’s Unicorn. They killed Unicorn, not BoomFuzzy. Unicorn wasn't BoomFuzzy."
"Yes he was."
"Quaraun. BoomFuzzy was an Elf and he died a long time ago. He commit suicide on your wedding day. Remember? He loved you and he couldn't bear to live without you. He killed himself, because you married someone else.”
“I never married anyone. The whole thing was a lie made up by my father. He locked me in the tower. She was his wife not mine.”
“Okay, but that was a long time ago. Quaraun? What just happened now?”
“Massimara killed BoomFuzzy.”
“Quaraun, Unicorn's not BoomFuzzy. I know you blamed yourself for BoomFuzzy's death. Everyone knew how hard you took it when he died. Quaraun, this isn't right. You can't kill people like this. BoomFuzzy wouldn't have wanted you to do this. He was a good wizard, like you used to be. You used to help people, just he did. You can't go around killing people like this."
"BoomFuzzy was a Necromancer."
"No, Quaraun. He wasn't..."
"You didn't know him. He trained me. Where do you think I learned to do the things I do. BoomFuzzy taught me."
"Quaraun this has to stop. You've lost your mind. You don't seem to realize it, but you are insane. You've been alone too long. You can't tell good from bad, right from wrong any more. I know you're hurt and you're not evil, but you're doing evil things and other people won't understand. They won't know about your pain, how much you've lost. They'll just think you're evil. Quaraun, if you kill people like this, the same way the Lich Lords do, people will hunt you down and try to kill you, rid the world of you, same way they do the Lich Lords."
"I'm more powerful than the Lich Lords now. Or didn't you know that? No one can stop me, unless I let them. I'm on the path the Lichdom or did you forget that? I'm not hunting the Liches to kill them."
"But it's not for evil. You want to become a Lich to kill the Lich lords."
"No. I'm not. That's just the lie you tell people, because you can't accept me for who I am. You refuse to accept me just like my father refused to accept me. BoomFuzzy is a Lich and I will join him. He is the Elf Eater of Pepper Valley. We will be together for eternity and no one will stop us or keep us apart."
"Quaraun, you're upset. You don't know what you're saying. Unicorn's death is opening old wounds for you. You're confused and hurting."
"You're confused, Gnome. I told you stop following me. I'm not what you think I am.”
“You're a Lich Hunter.”
“I'm a Thullid wizard of the Di'Jinn order.”
“You're a Moon Elf, Quaraun.”
“You and Bullgaar are looking to kill Liches, and you follow me because you think that's what I am. A Lich hunter. I'm not. I'm looking to join them, not kill them, that's why I don't want you following me. I'm a Flesh Warner, I seek to become a Lich, you know that. You delude yourself about my motives. You think because I am a Lich hunter that I kill Liches. I am a Flesh Warper, I don't kill Liches I make them. I'm not hunting then down to destroy them, I'm hunting them down to catch them and control them. BoomFuzzy turned himself into a Lich. I have one motive and that's to be with BoomFuzzy. I am trying to find BoomFuzzy. I seek nothing else and I will do whatever I have to do to be with him."
"Quaraun, she said he was a Lich. If BoomFuzzy's a Lich and Unicorn is BoomFuzzy. Then Unicorn a Lich and he can't die. He'll come back. That's what Liches do. They regenerate."
"Unicorn was BoomFuzzy. She killed BoomFuzzy."
"Quaraun. People said BoomFuzzy, killed himself in a Lich ritual. Did he? You were there. You found his body. You were the only one who knew how he died. If Unicorn is a Lich, then he's not really dead, he'll regenerate."
"BoomFuzzy was a Phooka. The gingerbread house, the candy trees, his Elf form, it was all an illusion. He was afraid I wouldn't love him in his true form. BoomFuzzy wasn't an Elf. He was BoomFuzzy the Elf Eater of Pepper Valley, he came to kill Elves to eat and I helped him."
“Quaraun, you have to stop obsessing over BoomFuzzy. He died three hundred years ago.”
"I loved BoomFuzzy."
"I know you did. Everyone knew you did Quaraun."
"They tricked him. I didn't betray him. They killed BoomFuzzy."
"Your clan?"
"I never loved her. I didn't want her. I still love BoomFuzzy. No one who hurt BoomFuzzy lives."
"Quaraun, who killed your people?"
BeaLuna backed away from Quaraun as a new thought struck her mind. A thought too horrible to think. Unicorn had said it many times, but she had laughed it off as Unicorn talking nuts. Quaraun's village had died 100 years to the day of BoomFuzzy's death. Only Quaraun survived and no one knew how or why. The entire village...like the villages here in the valley of the katopas ... every man, woman, child, bird, animals, insect, and plant, was dead in a heartbeat. Everything except for Quaraun and BoomFuzzy's chocolate covered apricot trees, had been obliterated, same as BeaLuna had just witnessed happen here. No one had ever seen the Lich Lords in the Deep North. Everyone just assumed it had been the Lich whom had killed the Moon Elves on the 100th anniversary of BoomFuzzy's death.
"Quaraun...when your people died, I was the only one in the village who didn’t die, besides you and the first thing you said to me, do you remember what you said?"
"You didn't hate BoomFuzzy."
"Is that why we were the only two who survived? You survived because you killed everyone and I survived, because I was friends with BoomFuzzy too?"
"They tricked him. I didn't betray him. They killed BoomFuzzy."
"Did you kill your family and everyone in your clan? Quaraun? Did you kill your own people to punish them for what happened to BoomFuzzy?"
"I loved BoomFuzzy. Unicorn was his true form."
"Quaraun, please calm down. We need to bury Unicorn and you need to go somewhere to rest and think..."
"I will not bury Unicorn. I will not let him die. BoomFuzzy is a Lich. His soul is trapped between worlds. It can be found and brought back. Liches are eternal, they can never truly die, they always come back. It takes a hundred years for a Lich to regenerate. I'm a Necromancer, I can change that. He'll return in hours, not years."
"Quaraun, Unicorn's dead. Let him stay dead. You can't keep playing god."
"I am a Thullid. I have the power of a god. Life and death mean nothing in my hands. I can take it and give it to whomever I choose. And you with your hatred for Unicorn. You annoy me."
"I don't hate Unicorn."
"You hated BoomFuzzy too. I just couldn't see it back then."

Quaraun wakes up in The Mournful Lamb Inn, with no memory of who he is or how he got there. Every one tells him he arrived covered in blood and collapsed, but no one can answer any other questions, save a gargoyle-like beast of a vampire, who tells Quaraun he is dead by suicide and wanders through the Swamp of Death, the holding ground between life and death, heaven and hell. The holding grounds for people too good for hell but too evil for heaven, as well as the place where lost souls wander until they can be set free: The Mournful Lamb being the resting place for murder victims and suicide victims.
Confused and alone, Quaraun tries to leave the inn, only to discover a vast barrier around it prevents any one inside from getting out.
The vampire tells him the only way out is to look into his own memories and seek out the truth: seek for the three friends, who never travelled with you, answer the question: why do always travel alone.
Unlocking his past reveal a horrifying truth: BeaLuna the Gnome, Bullgaar the Dwarf, and BoomFuzzy the Unicorn were never there - figments of his warped imagination or ghosts of the past, he can't tell which, but in all this time no one but Quaraun has ever seen any of them, for they are all ghosts who now haunt their murderer.
TRIGGER WARNING
This novel is about a murder-suicide, in which the suicide victim is found still alive.
This novel contains references to and graphic depictions of cutting, intentional drug overdose, suicide attempts, dismemberment, murder, and beheadings.
Some of these scenes are included in the free-to-read-online sample chapters.
Reader discretion is advised.
Possibly NSFW
BDSM YAOI
TORTURE PORN
BARBED KNOTTING WARNING
This novel contains one of the most graphically detailed and brutally violent CBT barbed-knotting torture/sex/rape scenes of the entire series. No part of this scene is available free-to-read online.
Reader discretion is strongly advised.
NSFW
The sample chapters listed below equal about 1/10th of the novel. No additional chapters will be made available free to read online.
The Mournful Lamb Inn
Everyone Is Dead?
Where Are Your Friends?
The Valley of the Katopas (Part 1)
The Valley of the Katopas (Part 2)
The Witch Massimara Of Mount Yenka
TYPE: Long Novella/Short Novel
WORD COUNT: 61,449 words
PAGE COUNT: 164 printed paperback pages
POINT OF VIEW: third person; Quaraun’s point of view usually; a few times from Unicorn’s
HAPPY EVER AFTER? no, this volume does NOT have a happy ending; character death ending
CLIFFHANGER ENDING: Yes. Sort of. Almost. This volumes ends with a sort of “To Be Continued...” that doesn’t actually continue
CONTINUING SERIAL? Yes; this is volume 8 of 130
INTERRACIAL COUPLES? Yes; a white skinned cross-dressing male Elf and his black skinned male Phooka lover.
Genre: Dark Fantasy > Sword & Sorcery > Bizzarro > Literary
LITERARY FICTION WARNING: This entire series is Slice of Life Vignette Literary Fiction, meaning there’s a lot of dialogue, a lot of talking, a lot of thinking, a lot of monologue, and a lot of emotional introspective, but not much action going on in this heavily character driven series. Each story is a narrow focused look at a single event (often a single day or hour) in Quaraun's life.
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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Thank you for stopping by and have a nice day! ꧁✨🌸🔮🦄🔮🌸✨꧂ And if it’s your birthday today: ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐꧁ᴴᵃᵖᵖʸ☆ᵇⁱʳᵗʰᵈᵃʸ꧂🤍🎀🧸🌷🍭 |
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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.