Kelim and The Necromancer: 
(Volume 2 of The Quaraun Series)
Doe'Uan and The Lonely Elf 

The Adventures of Quaraun The Insane
Volume 2 of 130

Kelim and The Necromancer:
Doe'Uan and The Lonely Elf 

(Bizarro Dark Fantasy Yaoi free sample chapter to read online)

(No clue what chapter it is, it's anyone's guess; I did not chapter this novel, yet. You are seeing the pre-publication draft edition of it here, which is not yet edited. The published print edition may be different.)

You are seeing the pre-publication draft edition of it here, which is not yet edited and likely contain errors in spelling, grammar, and various other typos. The published ebook & paperback print editions of this novel are edited and revised and likely will be different.

Some scenes in these online pages may not be included in the finished product, likewise many of the scenes in these online pages will be extended and or otherwise changed. 

These sample sections of the drafts are being made available free to read online at the request from several readers who stated that they wished to see the writing process of the novels while they were still works in progress. Because of the likelihood that these pages may contain spoilers, you may wish to avoid reading them until after publication of the novel.

If you are wondering why the chapters of this novel are not numbered, please read the article answering that question (How many scenes and settings per chapter?) linked to here...---->>>>

Please Note: The Quaraun Series Is Rated M18+ and you must be 18 or older to buy it in countries that require book ratings.

These books are EXTREMELY VIOLENT and some book sellers list them as "SplatterPunk" or "Gorn" or "Torture Porn". 

Reader discretion is advised.

Why is the Quaraun Series Rated M18+?

Because this site is monetized by Google AdSense, sex scenes are not included and have been removed from these online pages.

The Quaraun series has a strong theme of suicide, all 3 of the primary characters suffer from serious suicidal depression, 2 of them habitually practice cutting and self mutilation, and all 3 have attempted suicide at various times. One character is undead, killed himself and now is cursed to kill himself over and over again for eternity. These suicide attempts are graphically depicted on page. 

All 3 main characters are drug addicts and heavy drug use is often ongoing in the series. 

This series contains heavy references to and depictions of violence, brutality, & abuse, including spouse abuse & child abuse, both verbal and physical abuse. The physical abuse is often extreme, resulting in serious injuries, broken bones, and in some cases death. One of the main characters murdered his children and suffers frequent PTSD flashbacks and night terrors of the event. Graphic scenes of young toddlers being brutally murdered by their father and him being tormented by their dead spirits frequent nearly every novel in this series.

This series contains many highly triggering scenes of bigotry & prejudice, on brutality graphic, and gorily violent levels, of hate crimes being committed against people based of race, gender, sexuality, and skin-colour. The main characters are a bi-sexual & interracial couple/trio who are often bullied and brutalized by white supremacists and gay-haters. These atrocities are carried out in the time period of the Spanish Inquisition and include historically accurate methods that were used in real world Medieval torture.

Any pages online containing these types of scenes will have a yellow NSFW/TRIGGER WARNING label put on it, so you will know to avoid those pages should such things bother you.

If you are looking for a list of all the titles in this series, that can be found HERE.

A list of all the chapters that are currently available to read online can be found HERE.

You can Find out more about the main characters here:

Quaraun the Insane

BoomFuzzy the Unicorn

GhoulSpawn the Crazed



By Wendy C Allen
eelkat_red_scarf.jpgWendy Christine Allen, 2019, able to sit up in a chair for the first time in years, and able to raise up my arm and wiggle fingers. This was when I started playing Witcher 3 on Twitch as part of my physical therapy to regain finger movement. Playing Witcher 3 daily from 2016 to 2019, is how I regained the use of my thumb and two for fingers on my right hand... it is also why I stopped playing Witcher 3 in 2019, once I had strengthen my two forefingers enough to start typing again.

Wendy Christine Allen, Old Orchard Beach's Autistic Author, Artist, Illustrator, & Art Car Designer

Counting Down to the September 23, 2028 50th Anniversary of my first published book (September 23, 1978)

If you are here looking for The Twighlight Manor series, The Crystonite Wars series, The Wild Years series, The White Rock Asylum for the Criminally Insane series, The Twisted Tales series, the Captured By a MerMan series, The Space Dock 13 series, The Kats of Planet Ptarmagin series, the stories about Miss Citten the Eel-Kat, or the stories about Etiole... ALL of those series were combined and consolidated into The Adventures of Quaraun the Insane Pink Necromancer series in 2014, so ALL the different series, are now under one series title.

List of the published titles still in print:

The Index of over three thousand stories in The Pink Necromancer series

What the series is about, for those new here:

The introduction to The Pink Necromancer Series. 

If you want some stories to get you started in The Pink Necromancer series, reading these first will give you a good introduction to the 3 main characters:

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.

Health update: August 4, 2026 - in recovery for 6 months+ (at least until mid-January 2027...all book and video game releases are pushed back at least 6 months) see video below for why...
@eelkat

health update #maine #disabilityawareness #wheelchairlife #wheelchairvlogger #multiplesclerosis

♬ original sound - Wendy C Allen | 📚 Author
@eelkat Health update: #chickenpox #bellspalsy #RamsayHuntsyndrome #paralysis #recovery ♬ original sound - Wendy C Allen | 📚 Author
@eelkat

I seem to have had another stroke (during the night while I was asleep?) #stroke #paralysis

♬ original sound - Wendy C Allen | 📚 Author

Update Sept 3, 2026:

I am able to get around enough to take Koko to dog park... today is 29 days since getting out of hospital. My diet is still mostly liquid, but im eating some solid food again, but its like rice or soft mushy baby food type stuff because I still can not chew yet, though I can swallow again. My jaw is still not functioning good so im having trouble talking still. So there's been slight improvement to my mouth, throat, and jaw, but, zero improvement to my eye, which is a major concern, be Im almost fully blind right now. im legally blind since birth in my left eye, so I have no ability to fall back on using my left eye. My right eye is the one injured and my vision in it is "40% decreased" according to my doctor, but it wasn't good vision to begin with, and right now my right eye is not much different from my legally blind left eye. Which I why I have to have someone drive my car for me instead of me driving my car myself right now, which is very frustrating, because, being a female, I had to fight for over twenty years to be allowed to drive. I started sneaking out at age 31 and dressing as a man to go to Old Orchard Beach high school to get a ged, because us females are not allowed to go to school. And i was 37 years old when snuck out to the DMV and got a driver's permit and started going to college. I was 42 and 8 months pregnant when my family found out I was going to college and thats when I was punished by the backhoe driving over my house and my spine broken with a golf club and my baby born right then and killed with same golf club. So it's very frustrating now, so soon after finally being able to drive , to now not be able to drive because of an eye injury, especially after 14 years of being paralyzed from the golf club and not being allowed to have a wheelchair, again, because i am female and we females are simply not allowed to do anything. I hate the culture I was born into. I wish I had the freedom to go to school and drive a car the way American women do. I wish having my spine broken with a golf club and my baby killed with a golf club and a backhoe driven over my house was not how men in my family punishment women in my family for learning to read and write. Its so frustrating not being able to to drive again, so soon after 14 years being paralyzed, and being paralyzed by the golf club was the punishment for getting a driver's license back in 2013 after 30 years of men not letting me have one. I hate my family's culture and how they treat us women.

I get so sick of Americans telling me how they wish they could be a Gypsy… they are either misogynist woman hating pigs, or delusional idiots who haven't got a clue how shittily we Gypsy women are treated by Gypsy men, because no one in their righ mind who knows anything about Gypsy culture would ever want to be part of it. I hate that I was born a Gypsy. 

update sept 7, 2026

"You would not make a good teacher"... what does that mean, and why are there so many people on Railroad Ave and Western Ave and Cutts St why walk up to me and say that to me?

I find it very confusing. I have low functioning Autism (the Rain Man type) and so i have very little understanding of words beyond the basic ones, and i never went to to school, so I never learned maths or sciences, and I only had remedial classes at Southern Maine Community College, because I did not have an education to enroll with regular, I was there taking every reading and writing class they had to learn how to read and write, and also took speaking classes to learn how to talk (i spoke Shetland Scottish language because that was language my grandmother spoke but she died when I was 8 so I only knew that language to speak and write, and I was 37 when I went to college and 42 when I learned English speaking and I still cant speak English good yet), all the other classes I took were art painting and cooking.

So the phrase "You would not make a good teacher" makes no sense to me because it seems to imply that I am trying to be a teacher, but I don't have anything close to the education ti be a teacher, and im not trying to be a teacher. So I don't know why people keep saying this phrase to me and I assume it must have some sort of a slang meaning, but I can't figure out what it could be of why do these people keep saying it to me.

see video below for more information: 


@eelkat "You would not make a good teacher"... what does that mean, and why are there so many people on Railroad Ave and Western Ave and Cutts St why walk up to me and say that to me? I find it very confusing. I have low functioning Autism (the Rain Man type) and so i have very little understanding of words beyond the basic ones, and i never went to to school, so I never learned maths or sciences, and I only had remedial classes at Southern Maine Community College, because I did not have an education to enroll with regular, I was there taking every reading and writing class they had to learn how to read and write, and also took speaking classes to learn how to talk (i spoke Shetland Scottish language because that was language my grandmother spoke but she died when I was 8 so I only knew that language to speak and write, and I was 37 when I went to college and 42 when I learned English speaking and I still cant speak English good yet), all the other classes I took were art painting and cooking. So the phrase "You would not make a good teacher" makes no sense to me because it seems to imply that I am trying to be a teacher, but I don't have anything close to the education ti be a teacher, and im not trying to be a teacher. So I don't know why people keep saying this phrase to me and I assume it must have some sort of a slang meaning, but I can't figure out what it could be of why do these people keep saying it to me. #mainelife #biddefordmaine #maine #disabilitytiktok #Biddeford ♬ original sound Wendy C Allen | 📚 Author

update Sept 15, 2026:

I have some slight movement in some my fingers again again after over a decade being paralyzed

you remember how I used to be a professional doll making, pattern designer, and embroiderer, back before I became paralized and before my son was murdered and being the backhoe drove over my house?

all my equipment, sewing machines, ect were all destroyed by the backhoe driving over my house, and I have been quardepelegic for over a decade because of it so could not use my hands to sew or draw or embroider, and so only continued to do my writing of novels since then because I could do that with dragon dictation software,

well, since 2016, I been playing Witcher 3 and don't starve video games on twitch livestream, one hand two fingers, as part of my therapy to regain nerve and muscle use of my fingers, and now after 10 years of that, I have somewhat more movement in my fingers and im thinking maybe I can try to do embroidery and doll making again, but not sure, anyways, now im rebuying all of my sewing and embroidery equipment that the backhoe destroyed when it drove over my house, and hopefully I can use my hand enough to embroider again.

waiting for stuff to arrive in mail, so soon I should find out if ten years of twitch gaming has given me enough muscle strength to use my fingers to embroider again.

update to the previous video, answering viewer question about lack of hospital vs broken spine

Wheelchair Fundraiser... I need to upgrade to a power wheelchair, the manual one just isn't enough anymore. But the power wheelchair is $25k. Yes, twenty five thousand dollars. Wtf? I can get a car for a quarter that price, why are wheelchairs so damned expensive? That's more money then I make in five years, so I need to start a fundraiser for it.

Kelim and The Necromancer

 is

an Epic Length Novel of more than 200,000 words

(400+ paperback pages)

This chapter is...

Word count: 4,033

or

12 paperback pages.

NOTE: This novel is still being written and these online free sample chapters are unedited draft versions that may be very different from the final paperback books.

Kelim and The Necromancer: 
Doe'Uan and The Lonely Elf 
(free chapter to read online of Bizarre Dark Fantasy Yaoi Novel)

<<< Previous Chapter:

~o0o~ Chapter ? ~o0o~

Quaraun opened is eyes when he heard the sound of someone in the room with him. Silently he watched the woman as she cooked the day's meal for her family. After a while he sat up to watch her. She was busy in her work and did not notice him.

"Where am I?" Quaraun asked.

The woman let out a yelp of fright at the sound of his voice.

"Oh! It's you," she said as she looked around the room and realized Quaraun was sitting up and looking at her. "You startled me."

"I did not mean to."

"Are you alright?"

"I seem to be. More or less. Enough at least. Where am I? And who are you?"

"We found you in our barn. Uhm... you were wounded."

"Did you take care me?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"What do you mean, why? You were hurt."

"And you are a Human."

"So?"

"I am an Elf."

"What differance does that make?"

"In my experiance, Humans generally kill Elves on sight. No questions asked. We are not Human, we therefore deserve to die as greusomely as possible."

"You've not meet nice Humans."

"Aparently not."

"I'm sorry. Not all Humans are like that. Are you feeling better now?"

"I'm well enough to have woken up."

"Are you well enough to eat?"

Quaraun stared at her as though she had just hit him with a bag of bricks. He wasn't accustomed to people offering him food. He was much more used to people throwing food at him, along with sticks and rocks and whatever else they could get their hands on. So few people showed him kindness that he was suspicious of anyone who did.

Not waiting for the old Elf to answer her, the woman continued talking.

"Do you like chowder?"

"What is chowder?"

"Potatoes, cooked with milk and corn, and clams, and lobster. We grew the potatoes and corn ourselves. Milk is from our goats. And the children gather the clams and lobsters off the beach at low tide."

She scopped the white globes of gooey, runny lumps on a plate and handed it too him.

Quaraun stared at the plate. Clams and lobsters. Food of peasants. He was horrified, sickened, and disgusted by the thought of eating the gutter filth grub of peasants.

"Is something wrong," the woman asked.

"You expect me to eat this?"

"What's wrong with it?"

"Clams and lobsters."

"Yes. They are good for you."

"Civilized folk don't eat stuff like this. Lobsters are trask to feed pigs in slop. Soldiers won't even eat them. And clams are nothing but slugs."

"You're used to fine wines and fruit pastries aren't you?"

"Do you eat slugs and insects, all the time?" 

"We are not wealthy."

"I'm sorry. Perhaps I can help with that." Quaraun took 10 gold coins from his beaded heart shaped bag and handed them to her. "You clearly this more than I do."

"I can't take your coin."

"You most certainly can. I have plenty more. I've a Dragon. She brings me all the gold I need."

"You.. have.. a dragon?"

"Yes."

"Like... a pet?"

"Yes. I have a pet Dragon. She lives in my pocket."

"Ooooo... kay. You're kind of crazy aren't you?"

Quaraun's expression changed. It upset him deeply when people told him he was crazy.

"Just take the gold. I don't need it. You do."

"We don't take chairty."

"Consider it payment for taking care of me then. I might have died if you hadn't."

"I've never seen a gold coin before. Takes a lot of coppers to exchange for gold. A decade of harvest wouldn't even bring in a single gold coin. So many coins. And you just give them away like they are nothing?"

"They are nothing to me. I told you I have plenty more. These will not be missed."

"You're very wealthy aren't you?"

"The highwaymen who attacked me on the road certainly thought so."

"My husband said you looked like an aristocrat, based on how you're dressed. On account of all the gold and jewels you're wearing, and all the embroidery and trim on your robes."

"I'm a priest. This is how my order dresses."

"We thought you were a woman when we found you."

"Meaning you undressed me to discover I wasn't? I don't like being undressed. No one ever sees me naked. I do not like it."

"You got a sword wound. It needed tending to. Had to undress you to get at the wound. Didn't think nothing of undressing you, seeing how I thought you was a lady. Why do you wear so much jewelry?"

"I told you. I am a priest."

"Yeah... all the priests I've ever seen, wear drab wool, grey or brown, homespun. Not pink silks and gold chains. You look more like a courtesan then a priest."

"Elven priests do not dress, like Human priests."

"I never saw an Elven religion where the priests dress like you."

"Do you even know any Elven religions?"

"Of course..."

"Perhaps I should mention I do not follow an Elven religion. I am a Di'Jinn priest."

"Di'Jinn? Are they Demons?"

"Yes. Thullids. A type of Chaos Demon. I wasn't raised by Elves. I was raised by Thullids. I am a priest of a Thullid religion."

"Suppose that explains the colours. Demons do like their colours. Lavish creatures, Demons are."

"Do you know any Demons?"

"Not many. But we see them from time to to. The ports right over there. Merchant ships from all over the world dock here. This is the main road inland to the cities. Demon peddlers and merchant go through once in a while. All their bright coloured wagons and colorful clothes and all that jewelry. Yeah. Should have guessed Demon priest what with all the colour and gold you got on."

"I'm still an Elf..."

"Doe'Uan said you looked like royalty. He thought you must be from one of the royal families from the Deep North."

"I am. I'm also a King. And I am from the Deep North."

"You're a King?"

"By birth, not by choice. But I prefer to be a priest. That I chose."

"Doe'Uan said..."

"Doe'Uan? That is an Elf name. Who is Doe'Uan?"

"My husband. He brought you in here out of the barn."

"Your husband is an Elf?"

"Yes."

"Then your children are mix blood mongrels."

"That's very rude."

"Is it? It was not intended to be rude. I merely stated a fact. You are a Human, your husband is an Elf, and therefore your children are mongrels. No reason to get defensive, I have nothing against half-Elves. Some of my best friends are half-Elves."

"You got a name?"

"Quaraun."

"Well, Quaraun, I don't like your attitude, especially not after I spent all season taking care of you. You could stand to be a little less rude and show some respect. You ought to be grateful, we didn't just toss you out in a ditch somewhere. We could have you know. The Guild is active around here, you know. We put our lives at risk taken care of you."

"The Guild? Why do you bring up the Guild?"

"You used magic to put yourself in that sleeping trance thing you did there."

"Oh. Yes. I did, didn't I? I forget things like that are considered magic."

"Isn't it?"

"Well, no. Not for us. It's just something we do to heal ourselves. One doesn't have to know magic to do it. One only has to be a High Elf."

"So you're not a Wizard?"

"... I... I didn't say that. And I'm sorry I was rude. I did not mean to be. I am grateful for what you've done. I did not mean to upset you."

"Are you going to eat that?"

"I've never seen food like this before. And I'm not in the habit of eating bugs."

"It's not bugs."

"It's lobster."

"It's good for you."

"I'm  civilized..."

"Implying we're not?"

"That's not what I..."

Doe'Uan came in just then.

"He thinks we're not civilized!" The woman yelled at her husband.

"What?" Doe'Uan asked.

"That's not what I said, nor what I meant," Quaraun tried to explain.

"What's going on?" Doe'Uan asked his wife.

"He woke up and I gave him some chowder to eat, but he won't touch it, because he says civilized people like him don't eat bugs like us poor people, and he called our children mongrels because they're half-Elves."

"That's not what I said," Quaraun protested. "You're twisting my words."

"What DID you say?" Doe'Uan asked Quaraun.

"I..." Quaraun stammered. Common Elves frightened him as much as Humans did, if not more so. "I did use those words, but not in the way she's saying I did. I meant no disrespect. I'm not used to talking to common people."

"Common people? You don't see how offensive that is?"

Quaraun stared up at the couple, looking very confused.

"I'm sorry," Quaraun said, looking away from them.

"How old are you?"

"I don't know. Old."

"You're clothes are old fashioned. So is your manner of speaking. And you're dialect."

"I was born in the Human year 938."

"938? It is 1453 now. You ARE old. You're over 500 years old. Not many Elves from your era around these days. Not many Elves live that long. Even 400 ears is rare. You are ancient."

"Yes. I am aware of that. All my people are dead. I am the last of the Moon Elves. And I fear it won't be long before I am soon the last of all the High Elves. There are so few of us left. But I am older than I should be. It's the JellyFish in my brain. It keeps me alive beyond my natural years."

"You are an aristocrat aren't you? A wealthy nobleman of some sort, yes?"

"I... kind of. Used to be."

"Used to be?"

"I used to be a King."

"A king?"

"That was a long time ago. Like I said, my people are dead. I have no kingdom,no subjects. Not any more. Not in centuries. I'm a king by blood. Not a warrior king who conquered some country. I am the son of fifteen generations of Konung."

"Konung?"

"I'm an emperor. Or I was. I'm not any more. Now I'm just a wandering vagabond with no family, no people, no place to call home."

"He said he wasn't a Wizard," the woman said to her husband.

"I did not say that!" Quaraun yelled at the woman, far too defensively.

"Why does that upset you?" Doe'Uan asked. "Are you a Wizard?"

"I... yes. I am a Wizard of the DiJinn Order."

"Order? So you belong to a Guild?"

"No."



Hamsa
Eye of The Grigoi
Eye of the Watchers
Eye of God
Hand of God
Eye of Protection
Evil Eye
Gypsy Curse

"You're not a Guild member?" 

"No. Certainly not!" 

"Have you any idea the danger you've put my family it?" 

"How have I endangered your family?" 

"You sought shelter in our barn." 

"I was wounded. There were highwaymen on the road. Dangerous region you live in here." 

"And you sought shelter in our barn." 

"I intended to be gone by morning. I lost more blood then I thought. And it was you who moved me into your house. You could have left me in the barn. Or tossed me to into the gutter, as most people would have." 

"I did not know you were a Mage." 

"I'm not a Mage."

"Do you not know the laws?"

"I am a stranger in this region."

Doe'Uan went to a small wooden chest on the shelf, and took out an official looking document. He returned to the fireplace and began reading the paper to Quaraun: 

"By order of The Guild of Wizardry & Magic, anyone caught giving shelter to a Mage, shall be burned with him or her..." 

"I am not a Mage," Quaraun stated very matter of factly. 

"You just said you were a Wizard." 

"Yes. And a Wizard is differant then a Mage."

"The Guild does not make a distinction."

"The Guild can burn in Hell."

"The Guild makes the law."

"Only because Finderu is an ass."

"Finderu is the Jarl."

"Yes. And an ass. And a Jarl is only a territorial chieftain. The Konung outranks him."

"The Konung is dead."

"I know. I killed him. And I will kill Finderu as well. It's on my list of things to do."

"You can not kill the Jarl."

"I can and I will. He founded the Guild. I do not approve of the Guild."

"The Konung did."

"He was my uncle. And now he is dead. My word is law. Not Finderu's."

Doe'Uan began reading the paper to Quaraun once again:

"By order of The Guild of Wizardry & Magic, anyone caught giving shelter to a Mage, shall be burned with him or her..."

"I am not a Mage!"

Quaraun stood up angrily, to speak to Doe'Uan face to face, even though he was only five feet six inches tall and was eye level to Doe'Uan's chin.

"Wizard. Mage. What's the differance? You all use magic and magic is forbidden."

"A Mage is a know-nothing apprentice. A student, still learning to carve runes. I am a Wizard of the Di'Jinn Order. That is the highest level of achievement a Wizard can achieve. I'm the world's most powerful Wizard. No one matches me in magic. I spent centuries reaching my level of skill. I have more magic in my little finger then a Mage will learn in a hundred years."

"A Mage is a Mage."

"How dare you compare me to a Mage! I am Quaraun, Grand High Emperor of the Triple Planets, World's Most powerful Wizard!"

Doe'Uan gasped at the sound of Quaraun's name, and took several steps back, pulling his wife with him.

"Ohhh... and..." Quaraun continued, now no longer screaming. "I believe I stood up too quickly. Oh my! I am so very dizzy. I need to sit back down before I pass out."

Quaraun slowly slid back to the floor, and sat on his knees gasping for breath.

"Am I to understand you are Quaraun the Insane?"

"I'm not insane. And I hate people calling me that."

"You are Quaraun, The Pink Necromancer?"

"Yes. I am."

"Get out of our house."

"Doe'Uan, he's still hurt. He can't even stand up yet..."

"I don't care. He's a criminal. A monster. Murderer. He's outcast from Elf society. No one is to give him shelter. No one is to talk to him. He's an Outcast Elf. Shunned. I didn't know who he was. I never would have brought him in here had I known who he was."

"But..."

"Do not defend me," Quaraun said to the woman. "He's right. I am Outcast. I am a murderer. I murdered my wife and children. Were I a Human, I'd have been executed for my crime. But Elves have no death penalty. To take a life is wrong. Even execution is not allowed. He is right. I am cast out of society. Condemned to wander the world, with no family or home. No friends. No kindness. Forced to sleep the gutter with rats and fight wild dogs for my food. Unloved. Unwanted. Cast out. Homeless. Friendless. This is my punishment. He speaks true. No Elf is to give me shelter. No Elf is to speak to me. This is how my life has been these past four hundred years. I am welcome no where. I will leave. I am sorry I inconvenienced you at all. It was not my intention. I intended to rest a few hours and leave before morning. I did not expect I would be out for so many days or that you would find me. I was injured more badly then I thought I was." 

Quaraun stood up, slowly this time, now holding on to the wall for support.

"No. Don't leave," the woman said, taking hold of Quaraun's arm and gently forcing him to sit back down once again. "You can barely stand up. Where you gonna go? You're not fully healed. You won't get far with that wound. Doe'Uan, let him stay." She turned to face her husband. "Tell him, he can stay. Please don't turn him out. Not while he's still hurt like this."

"He's a murderer."

"He said it happened four hundred years ago. Four hundred years is a long time to punish someone."

Doe'Uan nodded.

"It is." 

Doe'Uan adressed Quaraun once again.

"Why did you kill them?"

"Does it matter?"

"Maybe. Why did you kill them?"

"It was an arranged marriage. I didn't love her. I never even met her before our wedding night. She had someone else she wanted to marry, I had someone else I wanted to marry. She continued to see her lover, I continued to see mine... until she went power crazy. I was next in line to be King. The King was old and sick, and suddenly she want to be queen. She plotted with her lover, to kill me and my lover, then her son through me would be King. She'd kill him, while he was still a child, become Queen. I didn't care about the crown. I would have let her have it. But I loved BoomFuzzy. I was soul bond to BoomFuzzy." 

"Soul bond? Are you a soul bound Elf?"

"I am."

"The soul binding ritual is illegal."

"I know. It is now. Now that they know how dangerous it is. What it does to an Elf to have his soul ripped out by the murder of his lover. She killed my lover. BoomFuzzy's soul was ripped out of mine. I felt so empty inside. I loved BoomFuzzy. She killed BoomFuzzy, so I killed her. I loved my children, but I couldn't bare that she was their mother, so I killed them too. I regret that. I deeply regret killing my children. I love them so much, and I miss them terribly. But I don't regret killing my wife. She killed BoomFuzzy. She had to die." 

Tears were streaming down Quaraun's cheeks.  

"BoomFuzzy isn't an Elf name. What kind of a name is that?" 

"BoomFuzzy was a Faerie." 

"So you don't hate half-Elves?" 

"No." 

"Why'd you call my children mongrels?" 

"I told you, your wife misunderstood my meaning. I meant no offence. I've lived alone too long. I used to be civilized. Now I'm no better then a wild dog. I've forgotten manners and social skills. I've no one to but myself to talk to for so many years now." 

"And you cry. I had heard High Elves did not show emotion." 

"We have emotions. We share a hive mind. What one feels, we all feel. The whole must think as one, or be cut out for not conforming. I was a child. Nine years old when they cut me out. I was filled with fear. Terror. Dread. They couldn't stand it. Rather them comfort the child, the solution was to cast it out. Abandoned. Unloved. Unwanted. There was at the time, a group of Demons traveling through the area. Thullids. Demon priest of the Di'Jinn Order. They sold me to the Di'Jinn priests. Thus how I became a Wizard. Seven decades in chains. Learn your potions or go hungry. Memorize the runes or gain lashes to the back. Let the Alchemists force feed you toxins, or have your nails ripped off."  

Quaraun removed the gold dragon claw armor rings that covered his fingers, revealing that he had no fingernails. The ends of his fingers, covered in scars. He lacked the distinctive razor sharp claws High Elves possessed. 

"They pulled them out. One by one. Because I couldn't memorize the sacred tomes. The grimoires of ancient Sorcerers, in languages I'd never heard of."

"You've no claws."

"No. They pulled them out. Ripped them out with burning hot tongs. It hurt so much. I couldn't use my hands for weeks."

"I'm sorry."

"You know not what it is, to become a Wizard. No one chooses to become a Wizard. No one. The priest, they take young boys away from their homes and kin and train them, mutate them, mold them, torture them. You learn magic or die horribly. So much pain and suffering. And so few live. So many young boys die in agony. I lived. I hated them. Every day they tortured me, I learned to hate them more. I was determined to live, just so I could spite them and used the very magic they taught me to kill them. You know not what it is to become a Wizard. They strip us of every last dignity. The Human priests are the worst of them all. Starve us and rape us. Made us their slaves. Mutated us into ungodly beasts of magic. We were nothing but weapons to them. They saw us not as living beings, but high powered swords they could wield in war. Chained us up in magic restraining bonds, shackles that prevented us from using the magic they embedded in us. They created us, but they feared us. They built us, then slaughtered us when the war was over."

"I didn't know."

"No one does. They built us, then they spread rumours and lies. Filled the world with fear of Wizards. Everyone hates Wizards and no one knows why. We were nothing but tools of war. Expendable. The most powerful Wizards are the ones who were tortured the most, the longest, we endured where others couldn't. I hate using magic. I almost never do. I can point at a village and tell it to die, and every last man, woman, child, beast, bird, and plant will wither away to ask. Like they never existed. I can pull the energy out of the core of the Earth and send it through an army. Kill every last soldier in in the blink of an eye. They built me to be a weapon of war. I'm living weapon of mass destruction and I hate it. I didn't ask for this. I didn't want this. I just want to live a normal life. People think we wanted to become Wizards. The Guild built us. And now they are trying to erase their mistake, by killing us off. Finderu is a hypocrite. He's a Wizard too. They built him, just like they built me. But he's nowhere near as powerful as I am. No one is. No one even comes close to me. THAT'S why I'm punished. Not for the murder of my wife and children. Finderu doesn't care about that. I love the power. He likes being a Wizard. And he hates that he's not at my level. He's all the Wizards more powerful than him, so he can be the most powerful Wizard in the world. Power is all he cares about. I'll never have peace while he's alive."

"Is that why you are here? To kill Finderu?"

"Yes. He's the Jarl of this region. I'm here looking for him."

"You very emotional. I've never seen an Elf with some much emotion."

"They tortured us. At night we slept chained in prison cells. My own family sold me to the Di'Jinn and do you know why? Because I witnessed my mother's murder. My father, murdered my mother. And he hid it. He hid it from the hive mind! I was only 9 years old. I saw him do it. He was going to kill me too, but my uncle stopped him and sold me to the Di'Jinn. I was raised by Demons, not Elves.  Demons do not hide their emotions. I never learned to hide my emotions. The Di'Jinn are all Demons. Except me. I'm the only non-Demon to live through the rigors of Di'Jinn training. And I surpassed them. I surpassed them all and now I am more powerful than all of them, and for what? It matters for nothing. I am alone. I have no one. I never wanted to be a Wizard. I never wanted to be a King. Both these things were forced on me. BoomFuzzy is dead and I am shunned and hated by all. We cry. We laugh. We feel joy and sadness. Only those raised in the hive mind unit show no emotions. They are taught not to. Emotions disrupt the hive mind. But I'm not part of the hive mind, am I? I was never welcomed into the hive mind. I was never taught not to shed tears."   

"I'm sorry. I didn't know." 

"No one does. And no one cares enough to find out. Too quick to judge. So quick to condemn me before getting to know me. I'm tired of being judged. I'm tired of being alone. I'm tired of being alive."

"You are very lonely."

"Yes. I've been alone too long. I know this. One does not have to remind me."

"When was the last time you sat down like this and talked with some one?"

"Decades. Centuries. I don't know. I've lost track of time. Nothing matters anymore. BoomFuzzy is dead and I am alone."

"You can't stay here. The Guild's Witch Hunters are active in this area. If they came here and searched our home. Found a Wizard here... they'd board up the doors, and burn us alive in own home."

"I know what The Guild does. It's why I am here. I'm looking for Finderu. He must be stopped."

"How can one stop The Guild? They're killing mages and witches up and down the coast. They've taken over the government. They ARE the government now."

"One stops a killer, by killing him. I will find Finderu and kill him. This madness must stop. Were it not for The Guild's religion craze magic hating hysteria, fear mongers wouldn't be killing off the so-called magical beings. Dragons and Unicorns are nearly extinct. There's barely a hundred Wizards left on the planet. Faeries have been mass slaughtered. Entire Fae villages burned to the ground. We High Elves have been forced into the mountains. Even you Common Elves are being killed for no reason now."

"Killing Finderu's not the answer. He has too many followers now. You'll make him a martyr. They'll start worshiping him like a Saviour."

"Finderu's a hypocrite. A Faerie Wizard himself. He just doesn't like competition. Do you know why he founded the Guild? To get rid of King Gwallmaiic and Gibedon."

"The Necromancer King and his Necromancer General."

"Yes. Those who knew Gwallmaiic best, called him BoomFuzzy. My BoomFuzzy. He was King Gwallmaiic. Finderu got his wish granted. Gwallmaiic is dead and my heart is broken."

<<< Previous Chapter:

Next Chapter:  >>>

Volume 2: Kelim and The Necromancer

Quaraun is hunting down the Guild and killing off it's members one by one. Guild leader Finderu is next on his list.

The tiny Pixie Kelim has fallen in love with the Lilac Faerie Ophelia, but Ophelia is in love with some one else and soon to marry him.

News of a wish granting DiJinn Wizard being sighted in the area, sends Kelim looking for a love potion that win Ophelia's heart. Bored with the Pixie's request, Quaraun sends Kelim on his way, but Kelim is persistent and demands the DiJinn grant his wish. Rebuked again by the wizard. Kelim returns a 3rd time desperate to stop Ophelia's wedding.

Obsessed with his plot to kill Finderu, Quaraun only acknowledges Kelim's plight upon discovery that Kelim's believed Ophelia is Finderu's daughter, and in a plot to murder Findaru, Quaraun finally agrees to grant Kelim's wish, but not until Kelim first signs a contract written in blood, agreeing to hand over his first born child to the world's most feared Necromancer.

The one thing Kelim forgot to remember was... never trust a wish granted by a DiJinn, especially not when that Di'Jinn is The Pink Necromancer himself.

A twisted baby murdering retelling of Rumpelstiltskin, this story tells what actually happened, in the bedtime story Quaraun had told to the Phooka in Night of the Screaming Unicorn.

Bandits and Highwaymen In the Night

Doe'Uan 

Doe'Uan and The Lonely Elf

Kelim and The Lilac Fairy


Finding Finderu (this link goes to my DeviantArt account)

Off To See The Swamp Hag


Kelim Meets Quaraun The Insane (this link goes to my DeviantArt account)

Hiring A DiJinn aka The Wish Granting Wizard


The DiJinn's Contract, Written In Blood


A Wish Granted


The Price of Love


Payment Due


Pocket Lich Unleashed: Quaraun Murders Finderu


Did you know...

Quaraun The Insane aka The Pink Necromancer (A Transvestite Moon Elf Wizard)Quaraun The Insane aka The Pink Necromancer (A Transvestite Moon Elf Wizard)

Quaraun was originally the unnamed villain of the Twighlight Manor series, known only as The Grand High Emperor of the Triple Planets, sometimes called The Pink Necromancer, said to be a transvestite Necromancer who built the Twighlight Manor. His massive wardrobe of jeweled pink dresses was carefully locked away in one room of the Manor, by Quaraun's grandson Roderic Swanzen, the main character of The Twighlight Manor series. While it is hinted to that Roderic knows what became of his infamous grandfather, no one is ever able to get Roderic to speak of The Emperor's disappearance and his vanishing after building The Twighlight Manor remains a mystery the series never revealed.

In the Twighlight Manor series Quaraun is portrayed as the evilest person to ever walk the face of the Earth. No one can remember his name, because after The Battle of Ongadada, his name was erased from history.

Yet, in the Twighlight Manor series, people exist, who say the stories about him are untrue, that evil men buried the truth to hide a secret far worse then Ongadada.

The Quaraun Series is the prequel to The Twighlight Manor series and tells the story of the Pink necromancer and the events which would lead up to his building The Twighlight Manor.

Throughout the Quaraun series, Quaraun is treated as the hero and is rarely seen as being evil. This is largely due to his being the primary point of view character of the series. The stories being told from his point of view of the world, means he is not seen as the villain, because he does not think himself evil. The Quaraun series is told from the perspective of a supervillain (Quaraun), who does not think of himself as evil or villainous.

Kelim and The Necromancer is one of the few stories in the series to show Quaraun as a villain. A story which shows the dark nature of the Necromancer and how far he is willing to go, to get revenge on the people who killed his lover.

You can find out more about The Pink Necromancer here.


Who is Pocket Lich?

Quaraun is hailed as "the world's most powerful wizard" partly because he is one of the few people to have ever killed a dragon. However, he had not set out to kill said dragon and her death was an unfortunate side effect of a spell gone wrong.

Distraught at having taken the life of an innocent peaceful creature, Quaraun resurrected the dragon, turning her into a Lich. She immediately set out the slaughtering villages.

Realizing the error of creating a DracoLich, but finding himself unable to kill her again, he instead creates a new world, a dragon's paradise, which exists inside a tiny green bottle that he carries in his pocket.

With his pet dragon safely locked away in her bottle, Humans forgot about the horrifying beast a DracoLich truly is or how dangerous a Necromancer with a Lich at his command actually is. Though mentioned in nearly every story, she rarely makes an on page appearance.

She was named Pocket Lich by Unicorn, another of Quaraun's Liches.

Originally a fire-breathing Black Dragon, Pocket Lich is now an undead ice-breathing Frost Lich Zombie Dragon.

Kelim and The Necromancer is the first and one of the few volumes in the series to actually show Pocket Lich. She is also seen in Summoner of Darkness, Captain Quirk and the Pirate Ship Rent-A-Prize, The Dragons of Ongadada, The Battle of Ongadada, and The Phooka of the Thousand Deaths.

Pocket Lich is seen on the covers of Friends Are Forever and The Dragons of Ongadada:

Where's Unicorn?

Unicorn is NOT in Kelim and the Necromancer.

Evil Necromancer Quaraun, is almost never seen without his trusty Lich, BoomFuzzy the Unicorn, by his side. Kelim and the Necromancer is one of the few stories that does not feature Unicorn.

This story is set after BoomFuzzy's death (1158) and before Quaraun finds Unicorn at The Screaming Unicorn Inn (1458) during the 300 year period he wandered alone, hunting down The Guild and slaughtering it's members.

This volume features the murder of Guild leader Findaru.




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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Wendy Christine Allen 🌸💖🦄 aka EelKat 🧿💛🔮👻
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Wheelchair Fundraiser

@eelkat

i just found out there is yet another bizarre rumour going around. where are these wild rumours coming from? who is starting them? and why?

♬ original sound - Wendy C Allen | 📚 Author
@eelkat

since I've been flooded with hundreds of messages the past two weeks asking if I still own "the world's most haunted car", yes, and here it is, filmed today May 18, 2026… but my son Xavier is dead, i am crippled and given that people are AGAIN showing up calling my Dodge "haunted", calling my friend "an alien", calling me "transgender", and spreading wild defamation slander connecting me to Stephen King, I think I need to start taking down the contact information of every blogger, podcaster, youtuber, and social media account spreading these rumors, and sue every single one of them for CAUSING my car to be cut in half May 10, 2010, for CAUSING the backhoe that drove over my house August 8, 2013, for CAUSING my son's murder November 14, 2013, for CAUSING me to be crippled and in a wheelchair November 14, 2013, and for CONTINUING to CAUSE harassers to show up in person to harass me near daily, STILL now in 2026. EVERYONE telling you my car is haunted, telling you my friend is an alien, calling my car "the goldeneagle", calling my friend "Etiole", or trying to connect me or my car to Stephen King, is lying to you. They crippled me when I was 8 months pregnant, and a woman with a golf club, severed my spine and bashed my baby's head in, I spent 9 years relearning to walk, and the FBI is 13 years into the murder investigation and not yet identified the attacker who crippled me and killed my baby, both violently with a golf club and the FBI believes that it is friends and family of the woman who did it, are the ones who started and spread the rumors saying my car is haunted, saying I'm an alien abductee, saying all kinds of similar bs about aliens, ufos, ghosts, witchcraft, demons, and Stephen King connections, even though I don't believe in ghosts, aliens, ufos, demons, and had never heard of Stephen King before 30k of his fans showed up in my yard trying to find my car! FBI believes the backhoe driver and the murderer are the same person and it is a developer who wanted my land and so started the Stephen King, ghost, and alien rumors all in an attempt to drive me off my land, and when it didn't work they drove a backhoe over my house, and when that didn't work they crippled me and killed my son. Why are they doing this? How do I get them to stop?

♬ original sound - Wendy C Allen | 📚 Author






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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.

eelkats_house_before_after.jpgMy house at 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine, July 4, 2013, photo taken because we had just finished building a baby room on the back. vs My house August 8, 2013, when the same group of people (yes group, the golf club woman was not alone when she attacked November 14, 2013, nor was she alone with her second attack July 2016.) who murdered my son and crippled me, arrived the first time with a backhoe that they used to drive over my house, during a time of day that I normally was home asleep... I had to work a different shift at the Waffle Cone Pizza Food Truck at George's Parking Lot by Bill's Pizza at the OBB Peir, that day, otherwise, I too would be at the bottom of a landfill, along with my house and everything I owned that was also in the house. I was 5 months pregnant at the time and have been homeless for just under 14 years, homeless ever since.

The backhoe driver returned November 14, 2013, armed with a golf club, used it to break my spine and smash my baby's brains out on the ground

On November 14, 2013, my son was murdered. I was 8 months pregnant, leaving my college classroom, and just getting into my car, when 3 strangers, a man and two women, armed with golf clubs leapt out from behind my car screaming "kill or be killed, kill the transvestite freaks, kill them all before they kill us! look at that thing! That is Ken's son, look at how it's dressed! kill the transvestite freaks! kill or be killed"... while the bald man and the red haired woman chanted this over and over, the blonde woman, lunged with the golf club.

She severed my spine, I am now a quadriplegic, and been paralyzed arms and legs, and in a wheelchair for 13 years now. She broke my hips, my knees, my legs, ruptured most of my discs, and shattered three of my vertebrae so bad that the shards of bone acted like glass and embedded themselves into my spinal column nerve bundle.

The attack also triggered labour.

My son was born in that parking lot, and he lived only a couple of minutes, before the deranged blonde woman, beat his head in and smashed his brains out, with the same golfclub she had just used to sever my spine and leave me crippled for the rest of my life.

Realizing that I was not transgender, and they'd just murdered a baby, the man grabbed the 2 women and forcibly dragged them away to a 4 door white pickup truck, and they left me there to die.

The FBI told me later, that a few weeks before this attack, and transwoman, had murdered a cis woman, in a parking lot, abou 20 miles away from where I was attacked. The FBI, believes that my attackers, had somehow found out I wrote transgender fiction, connecting my real name to my penname, (my father's name is in fact "Ken", and I do have a brother) and believed that I wrote transgender fiction, because I was myself transgender, even though I'm not transgender. The FBI, believes the attackers, thought I was my brother, pretending to be a woman.

The FBI investigation, into my son's murder, has dragged on for 13 years, and still now in 2026, continues on, with the FBI, still not having yet identified my attackers, and only guessing at what their motive was.

Thus we come to 2014, and the full swing change of the series I write. WHY my series, went from just a transman main character living life, to the full blown Mpreg genre series that it now is today.

Before the attack, I had a chance of having a baby. I don't know. And because I'm in America, I'm too old to adopt. You have to be under 45 years old to adopt a baby. That is the law in America. I was informed this, when we tried to adopt, now that my injuries leave me unable to get pregnant a 9th time.

Thus began my obsessively writing, my transman main character, pregnant. Always pregnant now. Every time. Every story. Stories that now fully focus on pregnancy, labour, miscarriages, babies dying, babies living, raising babies... the whole series, since 2014 has devolved into an outright baby obsession.

Meanwhile, reborn baby dolls were suggested to me by my therapist, and have also become a deeply obsessive part of my life. Because 13 years ago my son was murdered minutes after he was born, because a transphobic bigot mistook me for being transgender, I'm STILL in a wheelchair, struggling to relearn to use my arms and legs, now 13 years later, and I'm still DAILY dealing with police officers and FBI agents who while they are trying to find my son's killer, they are also daily reminding me... oh, yeah, my son was murdered, literally ripped out of my belly, by a transphobe. Who still has not been located and walks free to kill again.

The golfclub woman as she looked during the golf club attack at Southern Maine community college November 14, 2013. She is about 20 to 30 years older then me and would be around 75 to 85 years old now in 2026.

Clairescreenshot.pngIf 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.

zzzz999ClaireRed2016-screenshotIf 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.

Kendrascreenshot.pngIf 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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