The Crimson Cure

The dark-haired man was everything my former lover wasn’t—charming, panty-dropping ravishing, wealthy, and overly attentive to my every need. Yeah, I was a fool. I should have known better. No man was that thoughtful.

But Dimitri was my past. My life before I became undead. I’d never allow myself to be so asinine again. I had a bigger goal that didn’t include romance and required steely focus. No man would impede my progress.

First, I had to solve the riddle of my formula. I’d agonized over the chemistry for over a year. I’d run trials on lab rats, but each time I failed. The bags of headless rodents filling the dumpster in the alley were a testament to my botched experiments. I had had no choice. New York didn’t need vampire vermin.

I knew I would be successful if I could figure out the right elements and conceive the proper formula. Once again, I’d have a future as a human. Not a bloodsucking fiend doomed to subsist for an eternity alone.