So, you think that hunting vampires is cool? That all the vampires are good looking? And the person that slays them is this anorexic blonde cheerleader, and her sidekicks are the shy nerdy girl who’s a damn powerful witch, and a cute, wise-cracking guy in love with the blonde, even though she could care less about him romantically?

Well, let me tell you. It’s not cool. I have tangled with some of the ugliest, nastiest sons of guns you just hope you don’t meet. And I for damn sure am not a skinny little blonde teenager. And the people that I fight alongside? Scarred SOB’s, the whole lot of them. And trust me, we’re all SOB’s. We were in real life, and we still are.

Well, some of us. The rest of us would attack you for insulting our mama’s like that.

Me? I could care less. The less said about my ma, the better. The bitch was crazy, and I was glad to be away from her.

Even if it had taken dieing to do it.

That’s right. I died. A little over a millennia ago. And I’m one of the youngest. My best friend, Riker? He’s got about a millennia on me. And he’s not even the oldest.

So, how can I have died over a thousand years ago, and still be running around? Ask a simple question, receive a simple answer.

That’s the way it should work, but it doesn’t.

I’m not a vampire.

I lived my life, my first life, to the best of my ability. I did the best I could In my village, the girls did the domestic crap, and the guys did the fun stuff. As a child, I was allowed to do the fun stuff. I got to where I could out shoot, out ride, out fight, hell, even out kill, anyone else in the village. My da was proud of me. Told me I was the finest warrior he had.

My ma? Not so much. I was a disgrace. I was only allowed to do the male things because I was the youngest of seven daughters. I simply couldn’t do the domestic stuff. I was clumsy, and I just got in the way.

To my da, I was the son he never had.

To my ma, I was the daughter she never wanted.

The day I turned sixteen was the day I died.

When I turned sixteen, my da told me that I could no longer fight. That my duty to the clan was to get married, bear children, and take care of the kids and my husband.

I didn’t like it. But I understood. And he was right. I had a duty to the clan, and I had to do it. That’s just the way it was.

I had every intention of obeying that, too, even though it would have killed me. Not physically killed me. I mean emotionally. I loved fighting.

When it almost killed my physically, I disobeyed.

On my sixteenth birthday, the same day that my da told me I couldn’t fight anymore, the village was attacked. The women and children were shoved into an area, while the men defended us. I had to watch helplessly while my best friend of the time died protecting me.

My ma handed me the sword, and without thinking, I took it.

Last mistake I made that life.

I killed more attackers than any two men from the clan combined.

But it wasn’t enough to save me.

I wasn’t killed in battle. I only wish I could have been.

No, I was executed. For disobeying a clan order.

I forgot to mention that my da was the clan chieftan, didn’t I?

I could have mentioned that my ma had been the one to hand me the sword. But what would the point of that one be? She’d just have been tossed into the bog right alongside me.

So my ma tied me up, and my da threw me into the bog.

And that’s how I died.

And then I got drafted into another war. Seriously, drafted. I don’t age, it’s damn hard to kill me, and I fight vampires.

It’s a good non-life. Could be worse, could be better.

What else is new?