(excerpt from)
A Kiss For The Damned
A Vampyre's Diary Book II

Fourth of May, Nineteen-hundred and ninety-five

I am overcome with a sense of dread that somehow I have doomed myself; that this bloodlust that consumes me has taken hold and surpassed my ability to reign it in: that the exquisite moment when life is corrupted; when I take that which is not mine and make it so, will somehow be my undoing.

It is not that I see myself as evil. I do not. I have seen far to much of this world to believe in such superstitious nonsence. Is it evil for the spider to snare and devour the fly? I think not!  It is survival; no more no less.

I know, however, that others are not so enlightened. For centuries the kine has polluted its mind with misguided religious philosophies while debauching themselves in their spare time: only to return to churches, mosques, and temples to chastise themselves for their "immoral" acts.

It is this very hypocrisy which brings the kine to hate me and others of my kind.

I do not hate myself for indulging in the flesh, for doing as it is in my nature to do. I revel in it. And I shall not repent.

Oh their are those amoung my kind who are as deluded as the sheep that hate us: heads full of fantasies of dark oaths with the devil and secret pacts with the legions of darkness in which the existence of my kind on earth is a conspiracy to bring down heaven and de-thrown gOD. If their were such beings as gOD or satan, and such secret plots, I would gladly participate, for gOD, as I have come to understand him, is unjust. But, there are no such things. It is all foolishness. The only dark oaths which bare any semblance of reality were made by men, with men, against other men.

This is how it is now, and it is how it has always been. I know, because I have seen it all first hand. I have seen the beginning of history, and I shall see the end if it ever comes.

It is not the duality of man that makes them hypocrits; for there is a duality to us all. It is the refusal to accept this duality in their nature which hypocrisizes man. The difference between the kine and my kind is that my kind know their nature and, for the most part, accept it. Some, such as myself, even enjoy the variety it brings to our lives; while your kind is blind to its own multiplicity. When in moments of vision, one of the kine glimpses its true nature, the unnacceptable truth is instantly locked away in the back of their feeble minds to eat at them until the day they die.

We are animals; kine and kindred. I am a lover, a protector, and a romantic at heart, but I am also a killer. I am all of this and more. I have no remorse for this, only for the unsettling affect it has on my attempts to live in a society of men, and my ability to masquerade as one of them.

But, these observations are not why I have taken pen in hand.

It has been many months since last I wrote anything more literary than a simple sonnet. I have had little reason until now. Tonight, I do. Tonight I have met someone. She is kine but still she gives me hope.

I am amazed by her heart: wild, untamed, and completely unaffected by the world her. She is both knowing and proud of her nature like no kine I have known in a long, long time.

She is loving and giving and lives life with such sweet abandon that I cannot help but to be drawn to her. Perhaps it is her embrace of the truths of existence which endears her to me.

Surely it is this which has sparked this new hope that I am not beyond being loved; for as impossible as I would have yesterday thought it to have been: Iam in love.

Not the blinding obsessive love my kind ocassionally feel for one another; which is a twisted, heart-breaking emotion brought on by years, decades, even centuries of loneliness and longing for one who understands and accepts all that you are while you are surrounded by those who both fear and hate you. No, I love her for what she is.

I want only to share with her all that she wishes to share and no more.

But what will happen when I release my hold on her mind and allow her to know me as what her eyes have already seen me to be: strigoi. How enlightened will she be then? What will her heart hold for me then? Will she embrace me as her lover, or will she fall to the bloated unjustifiable "morality" which has lead so many kine, her kind, to hate me.

Too soon the truth will be unavoidable.

I am torn with rapture. . . and dread.