He Will Light Your Fire. Literally….

Meet the co-owner of the bar downstairs from the LIAARS office, Aki Aodhan!
A Celtic Fire demon who doesn’t realize his own strength at times….

Check out “The Case of the Lovely Dolls Part 1” from L.I.A.A.R.S.
on Tapas https://tapas.io/series/LIAARS/ep2

#bookstagram #books #bookđź“– #bookphotography #reading #reader #read #bibliophile #biblioteca #bookmail #bookmark #mystery #romance #suspense #youngadult #bookcovers #aesthetic #horror #sherrilynkenyon #noraroberts #rlstine #bookshelf #bookworm #bookclub #bookish #bookblogger

Lost Tomes and Bag Pipes


Such a beautiful word, and it always comes up when I speak or see images of Ireland or Japan. I have no idea why my soul yearns so desperately to reunite with places that really hold no pure meaning to my memories, and yet… I cry for something I have never set foot upon, let alone touched. Am I just letting my own imagination get the best of me, or is this a call from a soul that has long been buried in me that I have yet to speak with?

I was told a long time ago, when I was very young and also unbelieving of anything other than what my parents told me, that my soul is primordial. That in time my true self will come forth than what my personality reflected at that time. Of course, I found it to be utter nonsense when this person told me this, and only subjugated myself to what I had considered ‘real magic’ and mystery at the time. Which happened to be books.

I bonded so fast to books that harness the power of imagination so brightly, like Harry Potter, Tales of Earthsea, and Howl’s Castle Series. Consumed by the power of written wizardry, I couldn’t help but be amazed at how magic could feel so real in sentences printed onto paper. That, my friends, or at least at that stage of my life, was the real evidence that magic existed, only in the providence of my imagination.

It wasn’t until one day, I had stopped into Borders. It was summer, the heat of California was humid but not so bad that I could still tolerate wearing jeans and sneakers. Paper bills and coins in my pocket, ready to be spent on manga or otherworldly books, I went browsing through the aisles. In any given day, I would breeze by every other section without another glance and head straight towards the Otaku corner.

However, fate or maybe impulse stopped me in my tracks. A display of ornately designed tomes presenting themselves lavishly before a child like me. I should of just ignored them, but one book held me in a trance, its cover spread open like a hug. Beckoning me to come forward and embrace what secrets it had held within its bindings. A picture of rocky cliffs and sprawling emerald whispering to me to take a glance.


Unfortunately, this isn’t the exact photo of the one I saw in that book, but it was the Cliffs of Moher that drew me. It sang to me like nothing I have ever felt or even yearned for. It was crazy at the time, because I felt only words could lure me, but this… it was a strange yearning.

As if I knew this land from long ago, a familiarity of having stood upon the edge of the cliffs and breathing in the perfume of the sea. But the problem was, I never really cared for things like travel books or anything nonfictional, and I certainly had never stepped foot or remembered any time I had been to this land. Yet, I heard the whispers of magic emanating from the soul of the portrait, my hands shakily picking up the book and touching the photo with a gentle caress.

It was then, the words of that elderly psychic came dancing back into my thoughts, “your soul is primordial.” I remember shaking my head, no such thing as past lives, no such thing as magic other than in fiction, and there was no such proof that you could be reincarnated. Mind you, I was always taught to be very closed minded about everything, and when you’re a fourteen year old who doesn’t know a thing about life other than what school teaches you.

Anything considered paranormal was not practical or logical in any sense or form, but then why… Why was I held captive by this book? I reluctantly, placed it down after much coddling of telling myself that there was no place for this book in my shelf. Since I didn’t have a big bookcase or even a section in my house to have such a tome on display.

But… the images of Ireland never left me, it haunted me, and it sang a distant melody that I can’t ever figure what the words meant. It was like I was a haunted house, filled with emotions and thoughts that were not my own. A specter of longing that has never left my soul alone.

Years have passed since Borders closed, and that book was never seen again. Just like something out of a fantasy novel written by practiced authors. Yet, the pictures are now easily searchable, the music is now easily obtainable and I could identify the language that I kept hearing in my mind; Celtic.

Wild embers of a life that have laid sealed for centuries, come to life in the midst of music, sounds, and pictures of a land that is foreign, and yet… holds me close like a lover.


It calls.


Pumpkin Spice, None of This Sweltering Heat is Nice!

The heat in the west coast has been flippant likes the rolling waves of the ocean, it’ll come sometimes in hard thrashes, and other times it comes as a gentle breeze from the seas. Either way, I have a big dislike for summer, I hate the burning sun and the longer hours of daylight. I prefer the shorter days of light, and the nip in the air that tells you that summer is dying.

I always find myself huddling towards the more colder regions, even if that means opening the fridge doors at the local Target store just to get my cold air. Every summer has been fairly unforgiving, although, I know I can tolerate some of it to an extent. I grow weary and tired of the venomous onslaught of heat and humidity that seems to try and coax me to get sunburned outside.

It always seems to go like this every time spring decides to evolve from it’s mere quiet form of flowers and warmth, to a diabolical hell storm of fire and humid debauchery. I hold my mug, eagerly awaiting for the tea to cool down so I can drink it down to at least reminisce for the days of autumn that should come dancing in the next month and half or so. However, until then, I am stuck, sitting at my coffee table glaring at the outside with dismay and how I can’t wear my cozy sweaters and fuzzy slippers.

I enjoy the finer days of rain and clouds with a book or Nook in my hands, a tea cup perched onto the window sill with steam wafting upwards in tendrils. Those are the days I long for when the summer begins to roll in and dry up what was left of the spring’s frolicking. Amazing how a season can make you miss so much for half a year…

Cruel Cakes and Cups of Fanfiction

I really don’t have a specific theme for this blog, and I know most places do. However, I like so many things that I can’t manage four to five different blogs relating to all the many hobbies and passions I love doing. One of my passions happen to be writing and creating content, whilst another is playing games and reading books.

I would say I’m a plethora of strange things, as I also love horror and macabre things. So sadly, I cannot dabble placing my many different loves in different areas. Which turns this blog into a cluster fuck of all my strange curiosities and closet of whims.  I am totally in awe at how this blog and many things came to be as of late, due to my impulsive nature to always dive head first into things.

I didn’t really plan out my blog properly, which I had first thought it would be a website solely talking about reviewing books. However, that tilted and I did a review post on a game too… The from the game it went back to books, but then I faltered on doing the review because life got in the way.

But now, I’m back to blogging and rethinking that it isn’t so bad to just write a cesspool of randomness in here. Maybe some of it can be appreciated, most of the time my indecisive writing style will probably annoy people. Anyhow, I forgot to get to the point of why I was writing this blog, I ended up going on a tangent of otherworldly devices.

I wanted to talk about the cruel cake of being drawn into a fandom, and then tasting my first cup of fanfiction tea. It was maybe back in 2015 when I was still living in Hawaii, that I had found this mobile game called My Forged Wedding on Mangafox.com. I honestly thought the guy on the cover was cute, and had figured it was probably like a manga with the way it was drawn.

Lordt, if I had known that this was going to be my crash course into Otome Games and Visual Novels, I would of NOT bitten into the Cruel Cake of Fandom so quickly just because the guy looked cute. Here are the two images that lured my dumb ass into Otome Hell, and forever recruited me into the #OtomeArmada.

Obviously, this guy is what they call a Tsundere (is a female/male character who is usually cold, but he/she becomes spoony on her/his lover. Or, he/she is cold to the main character at first, but he/she becomes lovestruck later), it was after this dude’s route that I totally fell in love with the Otome Gaming Genre. Making me eager to find or hunt down any games of the same vein.

However, back in 2015 there wasn’t a lot of these games, and I struggled with the releases of routes for the mobile apps that I ended up finding the Voltage Otome Fandom on Tumblr. Which was already on fire with passionate people from different POVs and husbandos, however, we were a small group and had a love for these games all the same.

But just like everyone in the fandom, we struggled to find a way to cope while we awaited for a route or new game to come to us. So we spent our time looking for fanfiction, and oh boy did my world get thrown for a loop when I read these either fluff or smut filled stories. It satiated some of my eagerness, but then, it also sparked something that I had long ago crushed to silence.

Ya see, I loved writing since I was a kid, I even RP’ed… But my dreams of even becoming a writer or going to school for an Creative Writing and English degree was crushed very early. Don’t get me wrong, I understand why my parents did what they did, they were hesitant for me to go to school for something other than nursing. Nursing had stability, but what they didn’t realize was that nursing broke my stability of mind and peace.

I’m rambling off point again, sorry….

During my time in the Voltage Fandom, I had started to RP and it gained a certain popularity to a point that one of my favorite fanfiction writers encouraged me to write a story. I was pretty hesitant, because I felt I had no skill since I had stopped writing after high school, but with much anxiety and mixed courage; I found my way to publishing a few fanfiction pieces.

It was after a few of those pieces that I started to get into a momentum of writing and began to feel alive again. When I was done being a nurse in the day, I came straight back to my computer in the afternoon and would just write and write. It was fanfiction at the time, but … one day, a few followers stated I should write a book, or I had incredible skills to be an author.

I remember just thinking that they were insane, because writing is hard… To even try and be a writer in this day and age was preposterous due to the amount of luck and preservation it took to even be noticed. But one person… I will keep their name private since I still talk to them to this day said something that made me realize, it was time to do things my way and screw it with being a complete realist all the time.

“Everyone starts somewhere, whether it’s luck or hard work, you start somewhere.”

While that sounds bland to others, it made complete sense at that time and pushed me to pursue my schooling for a degree in writing. So fanfiction writing… I salute you for bringing me much pain and suffering in pursuing my degree to what I am truly passionate for. The Cruel Cakes of My Forged Wedding to the horrifying kinetic novel of Higurashi No Naku Koro Ni, these games drive my writing and my hope to keep marching.

I keep marching on.