Madison Dragonslayer Introduction

My name is Madison Dragonslayer. No, it’s not a family name; it’s a chosen one. I slay dragons. I wear dragonhide armor and ride through the country looking for damsels in distress to save. Yes, I’m in it to save the princesses and, no, before you ask, I’m not a lesbian.
I slay dragons, I slaughter those majestic beasts, for a far nobler purpose then those pompous, moronic knights who share my profession could ever dream of, and every dragon I get to before them is a victory for womankind – even if most of womankind’s too dumb to get it.
But you, dear reader, are probably wondering a lot of things. I’m hardly starting at the beginning. Instead, I thought to let you meet me the way most people do; first by gawking at a tall, blonde 19-year-old girl in dragonhide armor, and then by asking stupid questions.
“Is that real dragonhide?” “Why do you slay dragons if you’re a woman?” “Are you a lesbian?”
I used to punch them and carry on, but a friend of mine once told me that the only way to really make a difference is to make sure everyone knows why I do what I do. So know I sit them down and tell them a story, the very story I’m writing now for all of you. Some of the women who’ve dedicated themselves to spreading word of my works have asked that I scribe something and I figured, I might as well put a skill to use.
You might have noticed that I didn’t say an attractive tall blonde, or a stunning or gorgeous tall blonde up there. I’m sorry to disappoint male readers, but I am not. I’m plain, maybe cute on good days. There have been many men who once claimed me beautiful to get at my money, and a few who think me beautiful because I live dangerously and wear tight armor (dragonhide clings to the skin, there’s nothing I can do about it), but the day I find a man who thinks me beautiful for me… Well that day isn’t coming.
But anyway, it was likely not for my ranting that you picked up this tome. It was most probably to hear my story, so it is with my story that I’ll proceed. The story begins, appropriately enough, with my sweet 16.