Joleene Naylor is the author of the glitter-less Amaranthine vampire universe, a world where vampires aren't for children. Comprised of a main series, a standalone prequel, and several short story collections, she has plans to continue expanding with a trilogy and standalone novels. 
In her spare time, Joleene is a freelance book cover designer and for-fun photographer. She maintains several blogs, full of odd ramblings, and occasionally updates her website at JoleeneNaylor.com. In what little time is left, she watches anime, plays PokemonGo, and works on her crooked Victorian house in Villisca, Iowa. Between her husband, family, and pets, she is never lonely, in fact, quite the opposite. Should she disappear, one might look for her on a beach in Tahiti, sipping a tropical drink and wearing a disguise. 

Pulled into a world of darkness, Katelina's fate becomes intertwined with that of Jorick, a dark, enigmatic vampire. To stay by his side, she must navigate intrigue, terror and bloodshed as they are drawn from one battle to another. Dreams of peace seem elusive, and are complicated by mysterious vampires, old relics, and an ancient master. Join Katelina and Jorick in a world where vampires don't sparkle and night is eternal.

Amaranthine

Katelina leaned against the front door and closed her eyes, fighting for calm. She took a deep breath to clear her mind, as if she could. She pretended the air was clean, empty. Pushing out all the anger, the fear, the rage, the confusion. It was all too much, and she just needed away from it.


With another deep breath, she focused on the room, on the mess. She started to pick up the scattered books, but thought better of it. He'd made the mess, he could clean it up. The house was chilly, so she moved to the hearth and busied herself preparing a fire. She raked through the cold ashes but stopped when she found something metal. She dug it out to find that it was the silver cross from the bundle of letters: Velnya's cross.


She sat back on her haunches and stared at it, lying black and cold in her hand. What in the hell? Had he burned the letters? And if so, why? Why save them all these years only to destroy them now? 


Chapter 88