He insists he’s not a vampire.
He can’t turn into a bat.
He doesn’t sleep in a coffin.
He can walk into a church.
So why does he keep waking up beside unconscious women with blood on his conscience?
After a lifetime of playing by the rules, an aging widower arrives in Las Vegas looking for nothing more than a quiet vacation. Instead, he finds himself trapped in an impossible nightmare—haunted by blackouts, an overwhelming hunger, and an old friend who hasn’t aged in fifty years.
Rick offers only six cryptic instructions:
Stop lying.
Stay hungry.
Help somebody.
Stop running.
Tell the truth.
The priest.
As the streets of downtown Las Vegas become a map of his guilt, the narrator must revisit every place where he crossed a line, confronting not only what he has done, but who he is becoming.
Darkly humorous, unsettling, and surprisingly human, The Vampire’s Vacation in ‘Vegas is less about monsters than about addiction, remorse, redemption, and the difficult choice between becoming the worst version of yourself—or someone better.
