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. 

The prequel to the Amaranthine series tells the story of Patrick and Michael, how they got tangled into Claudius' web, and their valiant fight to escape.

When Patrick's missing brother returns, he brings a world of darkness. Turned into a vampire against his will, Michael is the coven's whipping boy. When Patrick tries to help, he's claimed as a slave who spends his weekends preparing victims, scooping ashes, and falling prey to the vampires' twisted desires.

There's only so much hell he can take. When vampires from a warring coven offer sanctuary in exchange for cooperation, Patrick agrees. What he thought would be a few months drags into a long smear of nightmares and, though he fights for hope and freedom, the cost of victory may be more than he bargained for.


Brothers of Darkness

Patrick called Anthony's mom, but she didn't know what was going on. It was three hours later before Anthony slammed into Patrick's apartment and flopped on the couch. He was still dressed in his rumpled funeral clothes, blood spots on the white shirt. 


Hailey stood at the fridge, the door open, and Patrick froze at the counter, a knife in one hand and an onion in the other.


"Fuck," Anthony muttered and pulled out a cigarette. He lit it, then jerked back to his feet and paced in a circle. "Don't anyone run to say hello."


"Fuck, man." Patrick dropped the knife and moved toward him. "What the hell happened?"


"They questioned me," he waved his cigarette for emphasis. "They fucking think I killed Christenson."


Hailey gasped and clutched the refrigerator.


Patrick's heart pounded over his thoughts, but he tried to strangle out something intelligent. "Why?"


Chapter 34