Dear Diary,

Today I saved a human female from certain death at the hands of a demon.

I am disquieted by my actions. I am Dalvahni, an immortal demon hunter. ’Tis our sole purpose to hunt down and return rogue demons to The Pit, thus saving the universe and those weaker than ourselves from degradation and destruction at the hands of the djegrali.

Saving the human female from the demon was a violation of the Dalvahni Creed. I saved her nonetheless—I could not seem to stop myself.

The female puzzles me in many ways. Perhaps it is this modern clime, but she uses terms and phrases that my Dalvahni translator cannot decipher. She seems to have no concept of warriors or the sense of dignity and decorum they should be afforded. She also seems more concerned about the reaction of her matriarchal unit than the danger posed by the djegrali.

She is the most frustrating creature I have ever met. She does not seem to understand that she is in danger.

Having saved her, I will remain and guard her from harm. The demon that marked her will return.

I will be waiting.

Today I attended a human sepulchral service. ’Twas a most unusual ritual. Two females got into a melee inside the House of the Dead over the deceased male’s member—removed post mortem by the widow, thank the gods. The widow had placed her husband’s rod in some sort of clear receptacle and she and the dead man’s concubine fought over it.

The incident was disturbing on many levels.

Afterward, Adara and I—that is the female’s name that I rescued, Adara—repaired to a local eatery where we broke our fast. There, I met Mistress Vi, a most excellent female and exemplary cook, and sampled something called ‘chocolate pie.’ It was quite enjoyable. Imagine my astonishment when I discovered that the Dalvahni, mighty warriors and hunters of renown, impervious to drugs and alcohol of every sort, are susceptible to this thing called chocolate.

For the first time in my ten thousand years of existence, I became inebriated. I must remember to mention this odd circumstance to Conall, our captain.

After consuming the chocolate pie I became sleepy and desirous of a nap. When I awoke, I found Adara gone, in spite of my clear instructions to her not to wander off.

There is a demon on her trail. Foolish, impetuous female, has she no care for her safety?

I followed her and found her broken and bloody in the clutches of the djegrali. I was certain she was dead.
At this point my faculties failed me. I engaged the demon in battle, but I remember little of it, only a burning rage and a desire to kill. ’Tis my belief I went berserk.

Adara says that I turned into a monster of flame, although I do not credit it. I burn for her, rightly enough, but in an altogether different fashion. It is lust; nothing more. I have been too long away from the House of Thralls.

I will couple with her and rid myself of these pesky feelings. I cannot protect her if I am unable to remain objective.

It is my duty to lie with Adara, and a Dalvahni warrior always does his duty. Once I rid myself of this unseemly lust, I will once again be in control. Stoic and impassive, as is proper in a Dalvahni warrior.
I will make it so.

Until the morrow, most noble and trusted journal.
BRAND

Dear Diary,

Today I met a hot guy.

I know. I know!

He was so freaking hot he was radioactive. Like, the hottest guy I’ve ever seen, big and tall and loaded with muscles. I’m not usually into long hair, but this guy totally rocked it. Long, shining black hair and those green eyes—yowzah!

We’re talking melt your eyeballs hot. We’re talking praise-the-Good-Lord-for-making-me-a-woman-in-spite-of-the-monthly-cramps-and-the-bloating hot. We’re talking male underwear model hot. Times a scazillion.

Hot, hot, hot!!!

You get the picture.

No, you don’t ’cause you haven’t seen him! This guy made my girl parts tingle. I know, TMI.

But, seriously, you know how it is around here. Hot guys are practically nonexistent, like unicorns.

And a hot unmarried guy in podunk Hannah, Alabama? That’s A Very Big Deal.

Crappydoodle, at least I don’t think he’s married. He wasn’t wearing a ring.

Why didn’t I ask him, Diary? Duh. I can see it now. ’Scuse me. Yeah, you, handsome man with all the muscles and the attitude and the flaming sword. Is there a Mrs. Hot Guy?

Awkward, huh?

How did I meet him? That was the weird part. Really weird. Hold onto your panties, DD, ’cause we’re fixin’ to move out of regular weird and shoot straight into freakazoid.

I got stabbed.

I know. Scary, right? See, Dooley and I were out running in the park just like we do all the time, and I got stabbed by this creepy dementor dude with a morgul blade. You know, like Frodo in Lord of the Rings, only without the Ring and the dwarves and the giant eagles.

And Mr. Hot Guy saved me!

Yeah, I know, it sounds whack. It had to be a dream or a hallucination, right? Things like that don’t happen in real life. Certainly not in boring old Hannah.

Oh, wait. Mama’s on the phone. Probably wants to talk to me about The Plan to Find Addy A Man.

Again.

Too bad this Brand guy’s such a nutjob. He thinks he’s a demon hunter, for Pete’s sake. Otherwise, I might date him. Just to get Mama off my back, you know. And because he’s so hot.

Sigh.

The first guy that’s fluttered my flag in a month of Sundays, and he’s psycho. Just my buzzard luck.
Later, dude.