Miss Citten The Eel~Kat and her interdimensional space eels... after not being used in any story in over thirty years, EelKat is returning for her 50th anniversary in 2028, as a character in the visual novel: Quaraun Goes To the Fair, currently in production and expected to release summer 2026.

I am an author.

I write Yaoi.

This is my website.

Yaoi means my main characters are gay lovers.

If that bothers you, you're on the wrong website. Sorry.

Transman Quaraun (The Pink Necromancer) and his husband King Gwallmaic (aka BoomFuzzy the Unicorn) King of The UnSeelie Court. Main characters of The Adventures of The Pink Necromancer series. The series heavily features many stories of a pregnant transman, and is therefore classified as MPreg (pregnant males), aka Quaraun himself is USUALLY seen as being between 5 to 8 months pregnant in almost every story he appears in. BoomFuzzy is USUALLY the father, but they are part of a "why choose?"-type 3-way poly relationship, and thus side character GhoulSpawn is sometimes the father. aka it is a transman main character and his two husbands all three living in harmony together, it is NOT a "lover's triangle" sort of trio.

For those who asked about read order, this is it:

Vol 1 (175k word novel - 500+ pages) This volume contains a lot of sexual abuse and on page rape...Highly recommended you be over age 21 to buy this volume. (the prequal to the series; written for the 35th anniversary of the series, it is the "backstory of Quaraun's pre-transgender youth that is so often mentioned throughout the rest of the series... this is the ONLY story where Quaraun is NOT elderly and shown as an adolescent) Note this story contains sex scenes, rape,  graphic violence, and torture...MOST of the series is completely devoid of sex or violence and is Pg13... this specific volume ONLY is EXTREMEL NSFW and unlike the rest of the set.	Vol 2 (95k word novel - 300+ pages)(another prequal story that bridges the gap between BoomFuzzy and night of the Screaming Unicorn	Vol 3 (157k word novel - 400+ pages)--- this is one of the few volumes of the series to contain dub-con, almost non-con sex scenes, including knotting scenes... and is NSFW, reviewers have described it as "morey rapey then I would have ever expected a woman to write". Highly recommended you be over age 21 to buy this volume.	Vol 4 (135k word novel - 300+ pages) --- there are no sex scenes in this but, for some odd reason, reviewers swear that it is erotica and full of sex... I can't figure out why they think that... I assume I must have written phrases they mistook for euphanismes and inuendos? weird
Vol 5 (135k word novel - 300+ pages) --- this story contains a lot of suicide referances and attempts, and a brutal gory murder scene, and is one of the few NSFW volumes in the series. Highly recommended you be over age 21 AND in no danger of suicidal thoughts to buy this volume.	Vol 6 (165k word novel - 400+ pages) --- not on Amazon - this one is currently only available as an unedited draft here on Space Dock 13	Vol 7 (95k word novel - 300+ pages)---this is one of the few volumes of the series to contain sex scenes and is NSFW... also contains very violent domestic violence and spouse abuse scenes, including spouse being beaten into a coma.Highly recommended you be over age 21 to buy this volume.	Vol 8 (short story collection - 150+ pages) --- this collection contains the story "Excited For the New Baby" which was a chapter deleted from Lich Lord's Lover, and takes place about half way through the novel Lich Lord's Lover
Vol 9 (short story collection - 150+ pages)---this volume contains the story of the birth of the baby mentioned in "Excited For The New Baby" in Picking the Perfect Pickle	Vol 10 (50k word novella - 150+ pages)	Vol 11 (single 12k word short story - 75+ pages)---this story picks up a few days after Pumpkin Patch Portal and could be considered part of the same story

These do not have a specific order, but all take place about 3 to 5 years after the ones listed previously

(short story collection - 150+ pages)	(short story collection - 150+ pages)	(mega bundle of over 100 short stories ---short story collection - 500+ pages)	(short story collection - 150+ pages)
(short story collection - 150+ pages)	(short story collection - 150+ pages)	(short story collection - 150+ pages)	(single 12k word short story - 75+ pages)
(single 12k word short story - 75+ pages)	(35k word novella -100+ pages)	(single 12k word short story - 75+ pages)	(single 12k word short story - 75+ pages)

Some of the "after the story" stories... set hundreds of years after the main time line

(single 12k word short story - 75+ pages)

(single 12k word short story - 75+ pages)

(single 12k word short story - 75+ pages)

The colouring books, these contain no story, only images:

	colouring book; 500+ pages/images	colouring book; 500+ pages/images

• Alphabetical Index of all The Pink Necromancer Fiction here on Space Dock 13 (EelKat.com)(links to over three thousand stories)

• An Introduction To The Pink Necromancer Series: The Adventures of Quaraun the Insane (Meet the Characters, What genre is it, and more)

NOTE:

The short stories ARE the MAIN series.

No, the novels ARE NOT the primary stories.

The novels were created as "special editions" for the 35th anniversary of the series.

Here's why:

This series was started in 1978, back then known as "The Twighlight Manor Series" and was short stories published in children's magazines such as Cricket, Friend, New Era, Highlights, and around 200+ other similar titles. This is because I was a 3 year old toddler upon writing the first story, for a "show us your story" type of feature in pre-school children's magazines. (Yes, I was born in 1975, and was only 3 years old in 1978 when the first story was published).

MOST of the stories written between 1978 and 1987 were under 500 words long, and featured a talking black cat named EelKat and her Silver Salamander Eel Hybrid MerMan friend Etiole, and her Sheep Satyr chauffer who drove a 1974 AMC Gremlin, who made visits to the MerMan's father Sir Roderic at his Twighlight Manor, a sentient house that came to life and ate people.

In 1987, at age 12 years old, I suddenly was "too old" to write for 90% of the magazines I had been sending the stories to. Note, at this point too, I had published well over 500 stories and had yet to receive even a penny for any of it, indeed, was not even aware that writers got paid at all.

From 1987 to 1996, stories were published locally via The Young Women's Newsletter of The Cape Elezabeth Ward of the Augusta Stake of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, and due to church publication requirements, I made all character members of the LDS/Mormon Church, and sent them on missions... the church would not have published the stories otherwise, they told me as much. I choose Papua New Guinea as the location they were missionaries to, and this is when the black character Esmerald BlackBird and his family were added to the series.

In 1996, I started publishing many of the stories on FanFiction dot net, soon also on Blogger and GeoCities and AngleFire and FreeWebs and Squidoo and HubPages. Those collected locations were connected by a WebRing called "Space Dock 13". In 2013, I collected all the stories off those locations, consolidated them into one location, and bought the url eelkat.com to link to them. All of those stories, more then 3,000 short stories, are still free to read today in 2026 on this site you are reading right now.

eelkat.com was used because at the time, the talking black cat was still heavily featured as the narrator and a primary character of the series. (No, I am NOT "eelkat" and I don't know why people use that like it is my name, as it is rather annoying. I am Wendy and I dislike when people refuse to use my name and/or try to call me by one of my characters' names... you don't walk up to J.K.Rowling and yell "Hey Harry!" do you? So why do you walk up to me and yell "Hey, EelKat!")

The first novel of the series appeared in 2006 (Love, Lust, Madness) but was quickly unpublished due to outrage by local members of our church. It was the first time a sex scene appeared in the series, it also contained the first of several to follow suicide scenes.

There are currently no actively in print versions of ANY of the stories print published via magazines or newsletters prior to 2006. As most stories prior to 2006 appeared only in "send us your story" sections of children's magazines.

By 2010 Blackbird had been renamed BoomFuzzy and many stories had begun mentioning "the evil necromancer who built the Twighlight Manor".

In 2010, the series still was ONLY short stories and all still child safe, kid friendly, Mormon stories written by a Mormon child for other Mormon children.

For the 35th anniversary, I sent out a request, asked readers what should we do for the 35th anniversary of the series. And the top answer was:

1: Make a set of novels based off the short stories.

2: Make the novels about Etiole's great-grand-father, the evil necromancer who built The Twighlight Manor.

And so in 2014 The Night of The Screaming Unicorn was published (most of it had been written in 2011).

The Night of the Screaming Unicorn was the first story ever to feature Quaraun the Insane, The Pink Necromancer, and it was the first novel to feature BoomFuzzy the Unicorn in a primary leading role, as well as the first time he appeared not being called Blackbird.

In the weeks following it's publication readers were sending me requests asking: "Can you write a prequal novel that shows how Quaraun and BoomFuzzy met and how BoomFuzzy became a Lich?" Thus I write the novel BoomFuzzy which was published in 2016.

The other novels came in 2017 to 2021. (Note, ALL novels AFTER Night of the Screaming Unicorn, were written using Dragon speech to text software as I became paralyzed on November 14, 2013 and did not regain the ability to type until May of 2021.)

This is why the novels are written in the exact same dialect which I speak, rather then normal written grammar. I speak Scottish English, and at the time with a very thick accent (I've lost some of the accent over the years and have learned how to say some American words now, so my spokem words are not nearly as "broken" as they were when the novels were written. Dragon Speech to Text software, at the time was known for typing words in dialect spellings, and at the time I had no editor to translate the novels into American English, so these books are written in "spoken dialect" Scottish, and are the exact same way I speak.

but there you have it....WHY the novels are NOT the main story and why, I really have no plans for any more novels in the future.

The series is still and always was a series of short stories, most stories being under a thousand words long each story.

The short stories were never written in any sort of "chronological order" and like hoe The Simpsons TV Show runs forever without characters ageing, with bart always an 8 year old kid for 30+ years, and most episodes never acknowledging the events of previous episodes... same way The Simpsons do that, is how my short stories are. My series is the same characters over and over and over, never really getting any older, rarely acknowledging any events of any other story, and just sort of being "static characters" who live in a "stasis time line that never moves forward."

So, outside of the few I have listed above as "Vol 1, Vol 2, Vol 3, etc" you really can just pick up any volume of the series and read it in any order. Heck, even those ones, you don't NEED to read in order.

But also, since the top comment that gets sent to me is: "You were 3 years old in 1978, you didn't write a novel at 3 years old, stop lying!!!!!" Let's answer that here.

It annoys me when someone who claims to be an author aka a person who uses words for a living and must correctly use words to convey things to a reader... says "book" when they mean "novel". I feel like I, as a reader, can not trust anything they write, when they the writer, don't know that a book is "4 or more pages bound together between a cover".

I have written and published hundreds of BOOKS, but I've only ever written a handful of NOVELS.

A book is "4 or more pages bound together between a cover". 

A novel is "a lengthy work of fiction".

A novel can be published in book format (sheets of paper bound between covers), but it can also be published digitally as an ebook, as a webpage or blog post; it can be published serially chapter by chapter in a magazine or on an app; it can even be published as audio on a casstte tape, cd, mp3/4 file, our visially on RenPy or YouTube or even on a PodCast. There are literally hundres of formats with which to publish a novel; a book is only one of many ways in which a novel can be published.

A book, is 4 or more pages bound together between a cover, and it may or may not include words, it could be only photos or drawings, it could be fiction or non-fiction.

now, with that out of the way, let's back to the issue at hand.

In 1978, when I was three years old, my first BOOK was published.

Note that I said BOOK. I did not say NOVEL.

Note too that I have "profound low functioning, non-verbal kanner's syndrome aka autism aka the rainman type" (that is what the medical diagnosis called it), I have the medically diagnosed retarded type of autism, that medical doctors mean when they say "real and actual autism", I do not have the cool trend self diagnoses tiktok type of "autism".

Unlike self diagnosed high functioning autims which affects one in three people in America,  "profound low functioning, non-verbal kanner's syndrome aka autism aka the rainman type aka real and actual autism" is one of the world's rarest diseases and I am one of fewer then 120,000 (one hundred and twenty thousand) people to ever be diagnosed with it in the entire history of humanity.

Unlike the cool trendy self diagnosed high functioning tiktok type of autism, which is a "neuro/mental illness" that only has minor social anxieties and none-physical symptoms... "profound low functioning, non-verbal kanner's syndrome aka autism aka the rainman type aka real and actual autism" includes physical symptoms, such as a shit ton load of life threatening allergies, including UV allergy (I am one of only 640 people in history of humanity to ever be diagnosed with this very rare allergy), as well as I am allergic to most red meats, most poultry meats, many fruits, and many vegetables. There are an alarming very few foods that do not send me into anaphylaxis and or cause massive bleeding pustules all over my arms, legs, and back. This is a major symom of autism that medical doctors look for when diagnosising autism, and if you don't this symptom, chances are around 99.99% that you DO NOT have autism.

If you can speak, there is an 87% chance you do not have autism.

I am both the first and still the only known person with autism to be granted a driver's license, so if you can drive, you probably don't have autism.

Unfortunately "self diagnosed high functioning autism" is made up illness that that not exist in real medical society. It is an "fear of missing out" form of "mass social media induced hyocondrism".

Which is why one in three Americans claim to have autism, while in the medical world, there has not yet been 120,000 MEDICAL DIAGNOSES of Autism in the history of mankind.

And I find it very annoying, when people excitedly, jumping for joy, run up to me chattered that they "have autism too"... you can speak, you can run, you can jump, you are excited and showing emotions... nope... everyone of those things is a thing someone with autism can not do. Because autism impacts nerves and mucsles and joints as well. Most people with autism are in a wheelchair by the time they are three years old, because autism has PHYSICAL and ACTUALLY DIABLING symptoms.

Quicky is NOT a symptom of autism...it is a symptom of aspergers.

Being shy is NOT a symptom of autism...it is a symptom of aspergers.

In fact MOST autistics are extroverts.

MOST autistics have ZERO social anxiety.

MOST autistics are in a constant state of TRYING to be social, and getting shunned or bullied because of their LOW VERBAL GARBLED SPEECH PATTERNS.

People not wanting to associate with you because you have low  vocal abilities is NOT autistics being shy, introverted, or having social anxiety.

Shyness is not a symptom of autism...it is a symptom of aspergers.

Social anxiety is not a symptom of autism...it is a symptom of aspergers.

Having hobbies, liking trains, reading comic books, or playing video games are all NOT symptoms of autism...they are symptom of aspergers.

When most people say they have high functioning autism, what they actually mean is asperger's syndrome, also known as childhood schizophrenia.

Aspergers is NOT autism.

Aspergers is early onset schizophrenia.

Aspergers is not a type of Autism.

Aspergers is a type of schizophrenia.

People who self diagnose themselves as an aspie eventually learn the connection to schizophrenia, and start calling themselves "high functioning autism" due to the stigma of schizophrenia, but is does not change the fact that aspergers is not autism.

Aspergers is so deep far end different from autism that you can be medically diagnosed with BOTH aspergers AND autism.

The problem is when 1 in 3 people is running around falsely calling themselves autistic, it leads to issues with us who actually have autism, issues such as people coming up to us and saying "why are you so retarded, I know a dozen other autistics and not one of them is a fucking mute retard like you"... yes, and I guarantee if your dozen friends are NOT mute and NOT retarded, they also are NOT autistic... because, do you know what the ACTUALL MEDICAL TERM for Autism is? 

Retarded.

If you are retarded you do have autism.

If you have autism, you ARE retarded.

AUTISM IS THE LAYMANS TERM FOR THE MEDICAL DIAGNOSIS OF "RETARDATION".

And yes, people use the term "retarded" as a hate slur, but it is still a medical term used for diagnosing "low functioning individuals, who suffer from non-verbal disorders".

If you are not mute you are not autistic.

Simple as that.

Mommy bloggers, internet memes, and urban myths, have spread lots of misinformation about autism, to the extent, that when someone encounters autism in the real world, they don't recognize it because we autistics are in wheelchairs, mute, have no facial expressions, and do not fit the "online image" of what autism is supposed to be.

Which brings us to me, publishing my first book at 3 years old, because I have autism, and I could not talk for most of my life, and I still struggle with verbal speech today, fifty years later.

I have autism and that means I am low verbal, near mute.

I have autism and that means I struggle to form words from my mouth.

I have autism and that means I write to talk.

I have autism and that means at an age when other children are SAYING momma and dadda I was instead WRITING momma and dadda.

...and this means I type to "speak" and had to learn to type to speak when I was not even yet two years old, so it should be of no surprise that I was about to type words at the age of three. My attempts to speak were garbled, and I was widely regarded as stupid/retarded because of my inability to form clear vocal words with my mouth.

Adults judged that because I could not form clear vocal words, i therefor had no thinking ability, they believed I could not understand anything they did or said, and I was thus removed from school at age eight.

I became obsessed with trying to get adults around me to understand that I was able to think, that I did understand what they said, that I was not stupid, I just could not open my mouth wide enough to talk. And so, three year old me, started writing and writing and writing out of sheer frustration and desperation of trying to get someone anyone to believe I could understand the words they spoke.

But all the adults around me just patted me on the head, tossed a candy at me and said "Oh look, the retard is mimicking words on paper! haha!"

And so, with adults refusing to read the words I wrote, and my being left locked in the wood shed "room" at the back of the house from 1983 to 2006, I created fictional characters and wrote them having conversations with each other to make up for, my being shunned and left alone for three decades in that "room-thing".

This:

That photo was taken by Biddeford police office Liv Coleman October 2006. That is the back room of this house at 144 Portland Ave Old orchard Beach, Maine:

That house, Old Orchard Beach's infamouse house of horrors.

My parents hated me because I had commited the sin of being born female. And that was exactly how they wording it: "you vile peice of shit, you'll stay in their because you fucking little bitch had the audacity to dare comit the sin of being born a fucking filthy female! you are unloved and unwanted you fucking female slut! stay in their till you die you fucking whore!"

Every day from the time i was 8 years old, those were the only words ever said to me. That is why I never learned how to pronounce the written words I write.

I never had human contact other then this. EVER.

I was born legally blind, almost deaf, and none verbal, and I spent my childhood, teen years, young adult years, and early middle aged years... locked in that room and told those words daily.

"you vile peice of shit, you'll stay in their because you fucking little bitch had the audacity to dare comit the sin of being born a fucking filthy female! you are unloved and unwanted you fucking female slut! stay in their till you die you fucking whore!"

For 27 years.

No bed, no clothes, a can of herrin/sardines once every 12 days was my only meal. No toilet, no floorboards, just jaggard rock, and piles of decades of feces that I had to sleep in. For 27 years. I was begging and crying that I hated sex at 9 years old. I had 7 misscarriages between ages 12 and 17.

All in that room, that had over four dozen padlocks on the door and boards nailed over the window. The was no roof, only 2x4 nailed over the two with two inch spaces between then so I have no protection from rain or snow. I had no blankets. And no taught me anything. Nothing. My grandmother had taught me to write at age 3, but she died when I was 8 and I was locked in that room thing from the age of 8 to the age of 31; locked in that room for 27 years, with zero knowledge of anything about the world outside... I did not even know other people existed, other then my parents, my husband whom was 37 years old when I was forced to marry him when i was 8, and my uncles. My parents never taught me anything because they assumed my husband would do that, but my husband never taught me anything because he assumed my parents would do that. I was 31 years old before I found out there were not only other people out there but and entire world out there.

All the while, the adults, took my writing, and without my permission, took to sending them in to magazines.

In 1996, I was given a computer, by my husband, with internet access, and I stopped writing on paper. Instead, I created this website, and I continued writing the stories of those same characters, now here on this website where you can still read them to this day. Thus why in 1996, "books" stopped being published and would not return until 2007, the year after I escaped that room.

But I was not writing to any audiance because I did not know there was any audiance there.

I did not interact with other people online, prior to 2006, becaise I had ZERO concept that there were other people out threre in the world at all. It was not until after I escaped that room, that I learned I was living on a planet, called earth, and that it was not only very big, but it had millions, billions of people on it. before my escaping that room in 2006 I DID NOT KNOW there were other people in existance... I only knew about the adults who slung hate yelling into that room at me.

So, when you saw me from 1996 to 2006 posting stories about my characters on this website, I had no clue anyone was reading them.

I started to become aware that there were other people in existance in 2006, but it was not until I started college in 2010 that I actually came face to face with people for the first time and begane to form a concept that not only did other people exist, but a lot of them.

And so at no point in my life, did I EVER write with the intention of other people reading, because I didn't know there even WERE other people out there.

And in 2013 when my son was murdered, I had not yet heard of Stephen King, or aliens, or ufos, or haunted cars, in fact, it was not until the large crowds of people started showing up in my yard in 2021, that I fully began to understand that Stephen King was a person, these were his fans, and, right now in 2026, I still don't yet understand WHY these people show up in my yard to yell at me about Stephen King, of since 2021 also too now Todd Murphy, whom I have not yet figured out who that is, or why, like Stephen King, he is sending his fans to my yard to yell at me.

It was not until 2025, not even yet a year ago, that I became aware of the fact that there are hundreds of YouTube videos and Spotify podcasts, made by Stephen King fans, about me and my car, and that that is the source of a lot of the people who show up in my yard gibbering nonsence about aliens, ufos, and Stephen King. And also in 2025, I've learned that people are calling my 1964 Dodge 330 "the goldeneagle" and I'm not sure why. I've always just called it "my Dodge", I've never called it "the goldeneagle" and I'm not sure why people are calling my car "the goldeneagle" like that's it's or something.

The local Wold War Two homeless vet that these YouTubers and PodCasters call "Etiole" and claim is "an alien", Etiole is not his name, and ... uhm... several of those YouTubers and PodCasters are inetervewing local woman who claim he raped them ... he's a transman, meaning he's biological a cis-female and dose not have a penis, he has a vagina, soooo, those women in those interviews are lying when they describe him being their rapists, because he's a female who uses male pronouns, and that penis they are describing does not exist. Also he's close to a hundred years old now in 2026 and his health ain't doing good because on November 24, 2021 a group of UFO nuts armed with guns, shot him just outside of Biddeford Rotary Park, in the homeless camp he was staying in at the time, they shot him in his tent, in his sleep, while claiming they were shooting an "extraterristrial biological entity" and he's been refusing to go to the hospital so his health has gotten quite bad.

The name "Etiole" and "Captain Golden Eagle" are both names of a MerMan in my books. Captain Goldeneagle of The VISION-D8, is his title and rank, and his name is Etiole de Blue de Azure Swanzen. He is Sir Roderick's youngest son, via his mermaid wife Lady Melneeva. Roderic is the grandson of the series' main character Quaraun, The Pink Necromancer. The VISION-D8 is a flying merchent ship, the idea comes from Dungeons and Dragons' SpellJammer... a big pirate ship that can sail the ocean or fly in the clouds. Etiole is a Silver Salamander Eel Siren, a part eel, part salamander merman, with silver fish scale skin, pirahna fangs for teeth, and goldfish fins on his arms and legs. He lives in The Thunder Hole's cave in Acadia, and captain's the VISION-D8 ship when The Pink Necromancer travels. He's also FICTIONAL and NOT REAL.

He's also why I go to Acadia every year, and sit in front of the real Thunder Hole, and record hours of video footage of the Thunder Hole at all hours of the day and all seasons of the year... so that I can write about the different tides and such.

When I was 6 years old, 2 years before being locked in that room thing, my grandmother took me to Acadia to see the Thunder Hole, and that same weekend to Cape Elezabeth to go on the tour of the Portland Headlight, and we got to go up the stair o the top of the lighthouse. That was in 1981. I created The Black Tower Lighthouse aka Space Dock 13 that same day, I set the books, in the future, after a zombie apocalyps (inspired by Night of the Living Dead, a movie I had watched with my grandmother that same week) and the idea of the merman came from the movie The Little Mermaid (a cartoon, that I think was made in the 1970s), which we saw at the Scarborough driveine also that same week. I moved the lighthouse to sit over the Thunder Hole and the very earlisest stories I wrote were very simply an eel merman named Etiole living in a cave under the lighthouse. My grandmother used to read books to me, and Edgar Allan Poe and Fall of House of Usher is where both Sir Roderic and his Twighlight Manor came from, while Quaraun being a JellyFish eldritch creature desguised as an Elf necromancer digging up corpses to build a lich, came from various H.P.Lovecraft stories.

At some point, I feel like someone, somewhere, read my Twighlight Manor and Black Tower Lighthouse stories about the eel merman named Etiole aka The Goldeneagle, and somehow thought they were real?...???...and somehow tacked them on to a local homeless man and my Dodge?...???...but I'm not sure who or how or why they did it.

My grandmother watched Star Trek, and so long before I turned 8 years old, I had seen every single Star Trek episode, no fewer then three times.

Most of what I designed was inspired by Star Trek... for example the Black Tower Lighthouse is a teleport device, and has room that has everything seen in the transport room of Star Trek, including the crew. The lighouse beam is a play on the whole "beam me up Scotty", the entire lighthouse, and the area arouns it as outlined by the lighthouse beam teleports to a new planet. This is how main character Quaraun, the Pink Necromancer gets from planet to planet to sell his wares.

Quaraun is a merchent who sells crafts at farmer's markets, craft fairs, and festivals, because that is what my family did. Saco Farmer's Market, Yarmouth Clam Festival, Moxie Festival, Strawberry Festival, all the craft fairs at all the southern Maine schools and nursing homes. We were set up in all of them. I had my first booth, when I was 4 years old, Maine did not have very good child labour laws back then, I sold eggs, I was born and raised on what was from the 1940s to the 1980s Maine largest non-comercial egg and poultry farm. I also sold books, books that I had written that my grandmother had hired copy shops to print. And I sold hand woven stuff, because at 4 years old, I had been already been weaving at a heddle loom for two years. My father sold woodwork, things like little nook shelves, my mother sold little toddler pagent dresses and cloth dolls.

You can see WHY my main character was a weaver and sells crafts.

The black cat named EelKat, came from two inspirations, once again Star Trek, there is an episide with a talking black cat, and also a Disney movie called "The Cat From Outer Space". Miss Citten the Eel-Kat is a eye eyed black cat, wearing a emerald encrusted collar, and is the ownder of the ship the VISION-D8 and the iolot of Space Dock 13, which Quaraun calls Black Tower Lighthouse. The entire mountain, the Thunder Hole, the BioDome behide it, the Twighlight Manor behind it, and the beach in front of it, all jump planets with the lighthouse when it teleports.

The same Star Trek episode that features the black cat, also features a haunted house, and the house itself is a teleportation device, that jumps planets, and looks like a gothic castle with a dungen. The Twighlight Manor, and the fact that it and the lighthouse teleports to multiple planes, comes from that Star Trek episode.

The BioDome comes from a very old SciFi movie in which a town was trapped under a glass bubble, I think it might have been made in the 1950s? I don't know, I saw it with my grandmother when I was 4 or 5. She died when I was 8. I've never been able to find what the movie was called. But Quaraun's BioDome comes from that, it's a giant glass bubble that encases an entire city, the city is called The UnSeelie Court and they are all Faeries, there are four hundred families, in total around three thousand people living inside the BioDome.

In total there are five full mapped out and worldbuilt planets. The Planets Flame and Crystonia, were inspired by Heat Meisr and Frost Mieser from the movie A Year Without a Santa Claus. In the earliest stories, it was people made out of flames and people made out of ice crystals fighting with each other. In later volomes I changed them to be Elves.

Quaraun's home planet is Vesonta, which is just Earth twenty thousand years after Humans destroied the planet, and yes, that come Planet of the Apes, another movie I watched with my grandmother.

Planet Diona and Planet Ptarmagin, both come from books. I don't know the names of either. I had some books as a toddler my grandmother read to me, one was a pop-up book, about dinosuars, and it showed a lot of deserts and from that I created the Planet Diona and desert full of dinosaurs and a lot more BioDomes. Planet Ptarmagin is a swamp planet, inspired by a nature book that show pictures of swamps and birds, and there was a section on ptarmigan birds.

BoomFuzzy being a Shetland Pony... I had a Shetland Pony named Thunder Puff. She had eyes when I recieved her for my 4th birthday. Both of her eyes had been stabbed out with knives, by the time I was 8 years old. I know who did it, but I don't know why. She did it the same day she put me in that room. That is WHY I write BoomFuzzy as a Unicorn who disgueses himself as a blind Shetland Pony. Thunder Puff, died from having her head beaten in with a brick. Punishment for getting out of the room once. I never dared try to get out of it again, because she said she'd do the same thing to me that she had done to my pony.

I made BoomFuzzy a Lich Unicorn, as a way to resurect my ThunderPuff. And I made BoomFuzzy shapeshift out of Shetland pony forn into a Black Man form, tto spite the adult who locked me in that room, because they have an extreme hatred for Black people and there is nothing they hate more.

They who killed my horse by beating her head in with a brick, know full well, the significance of BoomFuzzy's being a GHOST of a Shetland Pony, they know it is a constant reminded to them for what they did to my ThunderPuff.

Everything in my series is all stuff that was a blended up "fanfiction" of things I had learned from my grandmother. She died when I was 8. I was locked that room thing the same day as her funeral.

The FBI has told me there was a kidnapping police investigation when I was 8, they said my parents walked into the Loranger School and took me right out of Mirs Mullen's classroom, had a big fight with her. And for some reason no one ever found me. The entrance to that room thing was disguised as a wood shed, it looked like three or four cords of chopped firewood across the door, so no one knew the door was there. The FBI said the police did try to find me, but for some reason, never thought to take down the huge wood pile and look behind it to find out there was a little cloest like "room" behind the wood pile with me locked in it for twenty seven years.

I wrote my series, from that room, and it was all just me, holding on to memories of my life before the room, and rewriting those memories over and over again, all handwritten on lined college ruled paper... hundred and hundreds and hundreds of 3 ring binders full of thousands of page... I still have every one of those pages. All those hand written papers, are amoung the this the FBI believe the backhoe was hired to destroy... but those papers were not in my house, so they survived the backhoe attack of August 8, 2013 and I still have them in 2026.

but since escaping that room thing, I got a driver's lisnce and drive to Acadia every year, sit there writing more stories every year getting a better range if how everything in The Pink Necromancer's little world actually looks like. Because for 27 years I wrote it, based only off the memories I had of the first trip when I was 6 years old.

Because of being nonverbal, I carry with my pens, pencils, crayons, markers, and pads of both lined and unlined paper and when people talk to me, they must wait for me to write down or draw my answer to them. And this is WHY adults marveled that I a three year old could write a book and they decided to publish it, something I at three years old had no choice or decision in. 

In July 2016, I had surgery on my jaw, and was able to speak verbally for the first time in forty-two years. It was not until 2019, three years later that I was able to speak enough words in a row to speak in full sentences. 

And, because of over for decades on no use of my vocal chords, my vocal chords did not grow properly and so, my voice is barely more a whisper. I am physically unable to raise my voice to even a quite level, and I'm not able to yell or scream. If you are hard at hearing, you will not hear my voice and I will still have to write my answer to you.

If I make an attempt to yell, my voice almost reaches a level that is normal speaking range to the average person. It is unlikely I will ever be able to speak at anything higher then a whisper without further surgery.

Today, in 2026, I still carry pen and paper with me, but, if your questions are simple and you take the time to wait, I can usually now speak a very slow, but verbal spoken with my mouth, actual responce.

The problem is, I don't always know what you are saying, because I learned how to WRITE as a toddler, but I did not learn how to speak until I was forty-two... AND I went four decades with no one speaking to me, because the adults around me believed I was too retarded to know what they say...

...meaning, I know how to read, I know how to write, but I do not know how words are pronounced, I don't know how to verbally say the words I write. And so when you talk to me, I often have no way of knowing how to match which spoken word sounds go with which written words.

And as I had no education past eight years old, I also do not know how to do numbers, counting, math, time, clocks, money, measurements. I do not know science things either.

This is why I write characters who live in tents, do not use money, grow their own food, make their own clothes... 

...in 2010 I got a GED and started college, hoping to learn those things. But, August 8, 2013 a backhoe drove over my house, and November 14, 2013, I became paralized.

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

I only had contact with people for a little less then three years. In that time I learned that stores existed, toilets were a thing, people brushed their teeth and used forks and spoons and took baths and showers. All things I had not known existed before my three years in college.

2010, was my first time having contact with people.

2013 was my last time.

It is my hope that some day I will recover my injuries enough to once again, try my hand at learning to interact with people and hopefully, through that, learn how to speak verbal words better.

I'm in Biddeford or Old Orchard Beach. I live in both, and I get notes slapped on my car all the time (i am the author with the antique volvo that has murals of my characters from my novels painted on it) ... literally you have to trespass onto my private property, AND walk up my 175 foot long driveway, to eventually reach my car. WTF?

The notes I get are all transphobic hate slurs accusing me of being transgender (I'm a cis female, so, not sure why they think I am transgender), and using the phrase "this car is too gay for the family friendly town of Old Orchard Beach" (I'm left wondering how a car can be gay, like how can my car be a male, its a car; and where is my car finding other male cars to have sex with... its a car, cars don't have sex. I don't think these people know what the word gay means.) In summer of 2025 after fifteen years of people accusing my car of being gay, I painted a gay pride flag on the roof of my car, so now there is actual at least something gay-ish about my car. And some say "get out of our town your transvestite freak" (again, I'm not trans, so I'm completely baffled by this accusation.)

it started in 2010, and continues to go on now in 2026. They've escalated to more than letters though because on August 8, 2013 they drove a backhoe over my house (while I was 5 months pregnant) while yelling "too gay for the family friendly town of Old Orchard Beach" leaving me homeless as I can not afford to rebuild my house. Then a few weeks later, on November 14, 2013, while I was 8 months pregnant, same group of women who did the backhoe, showed up at Southern Maine Community College armed with a golf club, and hide behind my car at the lighthouse parking lot, beside Spring point lighthouse at the Buglight Lighthouse Art Studio classroom, and when I came out of my art class, attacked me, broke my spine and triggered early labour, then beat my son's head in minutes after he was born.

I was quadriplegic since then, it took me 9 years to regain use of two fingers on my right hand.

I have been homeless and in a wheelchair for thirteen years, and these notes still show up on my car.

The FBI murder investigation into this, quickly ran into a wild issue, as locals in both Old Orchard Beach and Biddeford started spreading wild rumors about me call me an alien abductee, even though I don't believe in that alien bullshit.

FBI believes the backhoe driver, the golf club attackers, and the notes writers started the alien and ufo rumors to try to make me look crazy and draw attention away from the fact that they murdered my infant son.

FBI agents say they are astounded by how paranoid and quick to believe in aliens, the locals are. They say they've encountered so many people in one small area, so willing to believe in aliens, yet also so willing to refuse to help solve a child's murder.

I've lived on my land since 1975, and Old Orchard was never like this before 2010. But also, I was locked in that room-thing from 1983 to 2006, so maybe Old Orchard Beach always was full of violent hateful people like this, and I just didn't know it, because, I was locked in a woodshed for 27 years.

There is a reason WHY people call me "the feral child of Old Orchard Beach" and why social workers say they doubt I will ever be able to assimilate into "normal mainstream society" no matter how much I try. I would desperately like to have people in my life. I've never had that and so I'm not sure what exactly that is like. I had a quick experiance with being around people from 2010 to 2013 when I was in college, so I somewhat know what it is like to have people to interact with, I just never had enough time between escapeing that room and becoming crippled, to learn better how to interact with people.

It is the reson locals shun me, refuse to talk to me, run away and hide when see me and my dog on the sidewal.

I am the feral child of Old Orchard Beach.

I am The Atwater family's "social experiment" as one uncle puts it "to see what would happen to a child who spent their whole life untouched, unloved, and unwanted".

I have never been loved.

I never been wanted.

And there is not one single solitary person in the entirty of York County, Maine who will so much as say a single word to me, look at me, talk to me, treat me like a Human.

I've heard of things know as friends, but I've never had one, I can not even begin to imagine what having another human being talk to me might even be like, let alone what having a friend might be like.

The social workers helping the FBI, say there is no recorded record of a feral child ever assimilating into society, not because the child can not learn, but rather because scoetiy ostracises them, sides with the abusers, and turns on the victim.

Well, we've certainly seen that happen haven't we.

I tried to join society and they drove a backhoe over my house, broke my spine with a golf club, put me in a wheelchair, and beat my baby's head in with a golf club.

I've yet to find anyone willing to even try to talk with me, and that is why though I had surgy to give me vocal abilities, now ten years ago in 2016, I've not yet, learned how to speak proper full sentence in 2026. I've no one practice speaking with, because all the residents of Old Orchard Beach, and Biddeford, Maine are scared shitless of me and treat me like a plague, because I was locked in a cage for 27 years.

Do you see NOW why I think it is ridiculous, your vile slander connecting me to Stephen King? A person I had never heard of.

Do you see now, how sick, vile, and disgusting the people who call me an alien abductte are? I had no clue what aliens or ufos even were before I found out about your horrible smear campaing slander! I had to look up the words alien, abduction, and ufo to find out what you people were even talking about.

Do you not see, why you people are being ridiculous in called my novel characters gay? or calling me transgender? Words I had never heard before YOU said them, and I had to look them up to find out what you was talking about?

I don't use big words, because I do not know big words.

I never had access to schools ot tv like you people did. I have no knowledge of who any of the presidents have been, or any of the other political titles, which I don't even know what the political titles and stuff are, I still don't know what red and blue or red pill and blue pill or red state and blue state or left and right mean... I keep asking you guys what those words mean when you are yelling your crazy political rants at me, but you never tell me, so I haven't got a clue the meanings of the words you are even saying.

I'm still trying to learn how to use a fork, I can't figure out how to use one and I don't have anyone to show me how. I have one. I don't know what to do with it.

But there you go... that's why I write.

It's the only thing anyone ever taught me how to do. Grammy Helen Ricker allen taught my how to read and write, before she died when I was 8 years old, and I got locked in that room after her funeral. Grammy Eva Viola Atwater came to the room a few times a year with pens and paper. So I wrote. I had nothing else to do. There was nothing else in that room. I don't know why you people keep thinking I am supposed to know Stephen King or know about aliens and ufos or know how to even write erotica let alone an eroticaa novel, because novel writing has never been what I did I wrote whatever fit on a single sheet of paper and Grammy Eva Viola Atwater took them after. You people have built up this wild fanfiction of my life, that YOU filled with Stephen King and demon cars and aliens and ufo, that's YOUR head canon about me and it has no basis in any soort of reality at all.

The reality is I was locked in a room thing for 27 years, and I am only just now learning how to do almost everything that you people all learned how to do with your were preschoolers.

I don't know where you people came up with all the wild stuff mixing me up with Stephen King or haunted cars or aliens or ufos or writing erotica novels... I don't know who told you that stuff about me, but they lied to you, they lied to you big time. And the only people who have any motive to lie to you about me are:

the people who kept me locked in that room

the people who drove a backhoe over my house

and the people who murdered my son.

The FBI ranks my husband and my parents, two of my aunts, four of my huncles, and 21 of my cousins ALL as "primary suspects working together" for hiring the golf club woman who beat my infant's head in with a golf club in a parking lot.

According to the FBI, they think most or ALL of them were involved in hiring the backhoe that drove over my house.

Why?

According to the FBI, I was never supposed to escape that room. No one was ever supposed to know I existed.

Acording to the FBI, those people, used my social security number to takes hundreds of credit cards, bank loans, buying things mail order and not paying for them... the entire time I was locked in that room.

I don't even know what my social security number is, nor do I know how to find out. Because before the FBI told me they were doing this, I had never heard of a social security number, nor was I aware I had one.

According to the FBI both online and offline several of them were pretending to be me.

According to the FBI THIS is the most likely reason why my baby was murdered.

According to the FBI, they couldn't let anyone find out I existed, because my existance ruined everything they were doing with my social security number. That's why I was kept locked in that room for 27 years.

My going to college in 2013 triggered something, I'm not sure what, but the college had to locate my social security number, they did so by contacting the statehouse records department to find out if I had a social security number, and, this lead to some sort of freeze on all my scam artist relatives' credit cards and bank accounts, so say the FBI. There are multiple theories to why my son was murdered, but this is the FBI's primary one.

But it all goes back to that room, and the fact that I was born non verbal low functioning autism. All the adults around me believed I was too retarded to be bothered with, too retarded to be useful, and because I could not speak my grandmother taught me to write, at 3 when most toddlers are learning to speak.

And that's how I started writing at the age of three.

And how at three years old, my first book was published.

Book.

Not novel.

I've never said "novel".

I've always said "book".

My first BOOK was published in 1978 when I was 3 years old, and it was sixteen pages long, made out of 16 crayon drawings, with fewer then a hundred words in the entire book.

If when I correctly and accuratly say "book" and you incorrectly falsly assume "novel" that's on you, not me. Learn better reading comprehension.

My first BOOK was published when I was THREE years old, and I'm constantly getting grown adults commenting "a three year old can't write a NOVEL", but... a book is not the same thing as a novel.

Uhm... I did not say my first NOVEL was published when I was three years old, I said my first BOOK was published when I was three years old... it was a 16 page picture book, that was 16 crayon drawn pictures and a total of about a hundred words. 'My first BOOK, published when I was most definitely not a NOVEL and could better be described as an illustrated drabble, but the fact remains, it was still a BOOK that was published in hardcover and paperback form.

There was no attempts to write a novel, no being inspired by having read a novel, no desire for readers to read a novel, because I had no concept of what a novel was, I had no novels to read, I had no knowledge that there existed any people besides the seven adults who kept me locked in that room thing.

They were 4th generation LDS/Mormons, so extremest fundy conservatives, and thus, I had no knowledge of the existance of sex or gay or transgender or woke oe erotica or any of the other words you people accuse me of. Those things are not in any of my books at all, which you'd know had you ever read them. You come to me weilding slander and false accusations, based on false assumptions and your own political agendas and assume because YOU hate a thing that I therefore must have written the thing you hate, regardless of whatever it is you hate, so you don't bother to read the book, because you've built up in you mind false assumptions about it, you convince yourself it must be this or that, and then come here acussing me of those things, and prove by your our accusation that you know nothing at all of what I wrote,, prove you never read my words at all, because if you had read my books, you would already know that none of the things you acusse them of are in them at all.

The bulk of the stories, are very simple one character, sitting and watching the sunset over the ocean, while describing what the ocean sounds like. This being because I could see the sunset colours through the two inch wide roof slats, and I could hear and smell but not see the ocean just outside.

My characters always sit in one spot rarely moving, because in the course of my 27 years sitting in that one spot, I forgot that things like walking and running existed. When I escaped in 2006, I could not walk or run, because after 27 years sitting in one spot, my joints had fused, the bones grew layers of bone over my hips, knees, and ankles. So I crawled with my arms, dragging my legs. I found a six foot long metal pole laying on the ground outside the building and used it to hoist myself up, and try to use my legs. I had to reteach myself how to walk, and I was only able to walk while clinging to the metal pole that I was using like a staff.

Its while after the golf club attack of November 14, 2013, you heard me say I had to relearn to walk A SECOND TIME, and why after the July 24, 2016 shopping car attack, you hear me say "I had to relearn to walk for the THIRD TIME." Because the first time was in 2006 when I escaped the room thing and remembered for the first time in decades walking was a thing people did.

But this is WHY my characters sit and talk. They don't run, they don't walk, they don't move at all.

More then half the stories are a character sitting in prison, in a prison cell, looking through the cracks, listening to thesounds outside. Gremlin and SunTa both were in prison for 500 years, and there are hundreds of stories of them, in neighbouring cages, talking to each other. These were written because I was in that cage like room thing for 27 years and desperatly wished I had another person to talk to. I knew this was possible because a local homeless man had discovered me in there and tried many, many times to get me out. He was successful on many occasions and took me out into the swamps of the Ross Forest to hide me, but the adults always found me, and they would tell wild fear monger stories to me claiming the homeless man was a demon. I knew he was not a demon, because they spent years telling me I was a demon too, and I never believed I was a demon. So I knew it was possible to sit in your cage and talk to someone on the outside, because the homeless made frequently did this. Thus why more then half of the entire series is stories of Gremlin as the main character, locked in a prison cell, and talking to SunTa who is outside in another cage. This is why SunTa never makes an on page appearance, because Gremlin never sees him.

So you see, I can tell you know nothing of my books when you call them full of sex or erotica or characters of any sexuality type at all, because my books were all written by a child in a cage, with no real concept of what existed outside of said cage. Most of my books are characters siting alone in darkness, desperatly wanting to be allowed out of their cage, desperatly hungry and wanting food, desperatly hurting and wanting the pain to go away, desperatly lonely and wish there was another person near by. More then 90% of the series is nothing but this and this alone, because that was all I knew. I didn't know other things beside endless years in a cage esisted. I didn't know sunlight, dayight, lights at all exiested, because just like how I had forgotten walking and running were things, I also forgot the sun and lights and daytime were things too,

I wrote stories of these characters on the paper pads grammy Eva gave me in between sleeping. There was nothing else.

At 8 years old I had not yet been taught dates or calanders or time, so I had no concept of how long I was in that room thing, while I was in it. Grammy Helen died in 1983. Her funeral was at Chick Rodgers and she wore a blue velvet dress. The next day, My parents arrived at school, and had a huge fight with Mrs Mullen of the Solar System Book, that was teaching us the planets. My parents were screaming at her telling her "Satan controls the government, the government controls the school, you are a servent of Saan!", and then they told me we were leaving. We left the Loranger School, they shoved me in that room... and when I escaped... it was because on October 16, 2006, a grease fryer full of flytapes, was put at the door of the room-thing, and set on high... and at 1AM it blew up, and it started a fire, it blew a hole in the back of the house, compltly removing the entire kitchen, leaving the room-thing with one wall completly go, and I was able to crawl outside. I had long rapunzle hair from 27 years in that room, but the fire caught my hair, and burmed it off.

The Old Orchard Beach Fire Department showed up, and that is how I know the date and time... they Chaplen told me it was October 16, 2006, 1AM.

I asked him how many years that was since April 1983, and he said "that's 27 years". That's how I know I was in that cage for 27 years. A fireman told me the years, when they rescued me out of that room on October 16, 2006, the day someone tried to kill me and destroy that room.

In March 2015, the FBI arrested my mother's sister's husband, on a beach in Boston, saying he had built the grease fryer bomb. He got 14 years in prison for it. As of 2026, he is still in prison, but will be released in 2030, so, he'll be out in four years.

Are you starting to see now, why I don't write novels?

I write every day. Just write a story start to finish. I have no formal training, I have no other writers to compare my own writing to, I have no goals of word counts or page counts. My entire series, was nothing more then a child in a cage writing to pass the time, for 27 years.