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

They met Pavel in the lobby. He saluted, then ushered them to the subway station. "I will escort you to the airport and your plane. Someone will meet you in Obigarm, though I cannot say who. You may have heard that their Birlik was attacked? Many of their staff were killed."


Birlik. The word conjured memories of a devastated building and a bloody battle. "You don't mean the Birlik in Uzbekistan?"


Pavel nodded. "The human borders and vampire borders are not always the same. You might consider the area the Birlik rules over to be several different countries, but to us it is only one."


She let it go. She could barely manage geography as she knew it, let alone as the vampires saw things. 


The airplane was waiting, just as Pavel promised. Katelina strapped herself into the seat and said a quick prayer for survival. As it finished, she thought of Jorick's old pessimism, God-"does not protect my kind." 


Chapter 474