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

The next night, Michael picked Patrick up and listened while he explained why Jorick had moved. He didn't interrupt, only stared straight ahead, as if taking his eyes off the road would kill them. When Patrick took a breath, ready to switch to the topic of the proposed kidnapping, Michael asked nervously, "How, uh, how does Troy know about your girlfriend? Did he say?"


Patrick blew a puff of smoke toward the open window. It was sucked outside, struggling and writhing, like a snake in a vacuum cleaner. "Troy can read minds!"


Michael's laugh was high pitched and tinny. "Oh, right."


A sudden, nonspecific suspicion throbbed through Patrick. "Why? How else would he find out?"


"I don't know." Michael steered the car through the familiar iron gates of the manor and parked in the carriage house. "Here we are." He reached for the door handle, but Patrick grabbed his arm.


"I-I might have said something. By accident."


Chapter 73