Book Blitz & Giveaway: The Recruit, Addison Albright
for more than two thousand years, but survival on his own was never easy. Now
he leads a faction of highly organized vampires who carefully guard the secret
of their existence. Unlike the old days, potential recruits are carefully
selected and presented with an offer.
he lets his disease run its course. He doesn’t want to die, but given a choice,
will his desire to live outweigh his concerns about the vampires’ ethics?
cause for concern, can Albert control the fallout, or will Phillip’s life once
again be torn apart?
raised a brow in a welcoming fashion, silently inviting Phillip to join him.
Phillip shrugged. He’d planned to sit here anyway, so why not have a
conversation with a pleasant man while he did it?
hand, and Phillip shook it. The hand felt cooler than Phillip expected for
someone walking on a warm day, but not exceptionally so. Perhaps he had a fever
himself, and that made the man’s hand seem cooler than normal.
There wasn’t anything he could think of to add. Small talk eluded him.
Albert paused, as if gathering his thoughts.
simple. Oddly enough, something about the gravity of Albert’s demeanor gave him
the impression the man had directed him to the bench with a purpose in mind
that had nothing to do with idle chit-chat, so he might as well let the man
control the conversation. Albert didn’t give off a crazed serial-killer vibe,
not that it would matter at this point as long as whatever he chose to do
didn’t add pain to Phillip’s death. Not likely he’d try anything like that in
broad daylight with people around, anyway.
with a steady gaze. “Phillip, I want to show you something, and I ask that you
keep an open mind and hear me out before reacting.”
developed any expectations for this conversation, but if he had, this direction
wasn’t anything he would have considered.
have thought his appearance made that apparent, but perhaps not.
have in mind, I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to make a deal with you.”
out an arm. “This seems like an unusual request, I know, but I’d like you to
examine my arm. Go ahead and touch it. I want you to assure yourself that it
is, indeed, my real arm and not any kind of advanced prosthetic or makeup
designed to create a special effect.”
request” was putting it lightly. But what the hell, he might as well add an
interesting interlude to his final hours—or minutes, if this man turned out to
be a homicidal maniac.
forearm. He felt for a pulse at the wrist and found one. The hairs appeared
natural and moved appropriately as Phillip ran his hand across them. Veins were
visible where expected. Phillip manipulated the man’s fingers and wrist. The
bones on the back of Albert’s hand, and tendons at the inside of his wrist,
moved correctly, becoming more or less prominent when the hand flexed. Then he
lightly pinched Albert’s skin in various places. It felt perfectly normal,
although still slightly cooler than usual.
Albert lowered his arm. “Are you satisfied that this is indeed my natural arm?”
maintain your composure. Give me the opportunity to explain what you’re about
narrowed his eyes but remained curiously drawn to hearing this man out.
and Phillip followed his gaze. The people he’d noticed earlier were still in
sight, but nobody new had appeared.
razor blade appeared in Albert’s other hand. Albert slowly drew the blade
across the arm Phillip had just examined, cutting deeply enough for the tissue
to separate. There was no way it was a fake blade merely drawing atop his skin.
He was cutting deeply, but the blood that appeared was black, not red, and the
gash closed up within seconds as the razor dragged up the length of that
fought to keep his respiration steady as he turned to stare at Albert’s face.
He’d been so riveted by what was happening to the man’s arm, he’d neglected to
check his expression. Had that hurt? Albert’s face was tight, so maybe,
although his mask of calm quickly returned.
asked. The razor disappeared into a pocket, replaced by a cloth handkerchief,
which he used to wipe the remaining dark fluid—blood?—from his arm.
nothing that would explain that.” He’d pointedly requested medication that
would not cause him to hallucinate or overly diminish his ability to reason.
There was no point dragging out his life if he couldn’t consciously enjoy it.
his day. Sleight of hand, etcetera, but this transcended all of that. There was
simply no logical explanation for what he’d just seen.
at face value?”
before replying. “Okay. Yes. Obviously, there’s something superhuman about
you.” Or he wasn’t human at all. An alien maybe?
said. “I was once fully human, but now…no, not quite human anymore.”
that comment. Albert had “once” been human. He’d also approached
Phillip—seemingly sought him out—and he’d said, “I think we can help each
other.” Was there more than one logical deduction to make here?
shiver of hope drifted over his skin. “I need you to spell out what you
meant—earlier. Before your demonstration.”
man who sensed he had his fish on the hook. “About helping each other?”
been walking this earth for more than two thousand years.” Albert spoke calmly
as Phillip froze in place, clenching his hands at his belly.
make a deal with Phillip?
for him? Everlasting life, apparently. But would it be an existence he wanted?
“Who are you? You’re immortal. But how?”
others like me, won’t appear to become older beyond our age at the time of
transition. Nor will we die of natural causes. We can be killed, though. You’ve
witnessed my self-healing abilities, but anything that would instantly kill a
human will kill me…us, too.”
disappear just like that?” Phillip snapped his fingers.
capabilities, self-healing improves over time. As a new convert, you won’t
immediately feel better. It’ll take about a day for you to feel one hundred
Albert was obviously holding back. What facilitated this “transition”? “You
still haven’t answered the question. Who are your people?”
replying. “The word you’re searching for is ‘vampire.’”
didn’t know what the hell he’d been thinking Albert’s answer would be, but the
existence of some kind of magical immortality potion was difficult enough to
believe without throwing in something that absurd.
have made Phillip run in the opposite direction—if he’d believed it, or made
him angry—because really, what kind of person fucked with a dying man like
that? But at least his final hours were diverting. “You had me going there for
raised a single eyebrow as he continued to gaze at Phillip. “Not the usual
reaction. Intriguing, though. You don’t believe me, do you?”
gestured toward the bright sun overhead.
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Meet the Author
Addison Albright is a writer living in the middle of the USA. Her stories are gay romance in contemporary, fantasy, and paranormal genres. She generally adds a subtle touch of humor, a smidgen of drama/angst, and a healthy dose of slice-of-life to her stories. Her education includes a BS in Education with a major in mathematics and a minor in chemistry. Addison loves spending time with her family, reading, popcorn, boating, french fries, “open window weather,” cats, math, and anything chocolate. She loves to read pretty much anything and everything, anytime and anywhere.