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. 

Twenty-nine short stories of love, death, heartbreak, and blood.
Meet the Executioners, elite enforcers of the vampires’ laws. Walk with them through origin stories, follow them across the sea to the colonies, and run with them through the wilds, as they try to bring civilization to a land ruled by “day sleeper” clans. Fifteen interwoven stories tell the beginning of The Guild, set under the watchful - and sometimes malevolent - gaze of the ancient Malick, whose heavy shadow stretches even across the sea. Meet his favorite son, his willful daughter, his child-like pet, and many more whose jealousies, hatreds, and loves twist together to create consequences they can’t foresee. 


Tales of the Executioners

This story takes place 10 years before the novel Shades of Gray [in the Amaranthine Saga] and opens at the Sodalitas' stronghold in Munich, Germany. Though there is not an exact date for the novel, it is something like seven to ten years after Greneth's story.


Cyprus looked over the note; chocolate eyes rereading his slanted handwriting. The introduction was short, followed by a poem:


My lady of light, in darkness I dwell without you,


Black shadows paint the walls of my prison,


From this hell I want to get away, to our sweet escape,


And it ended there. He tapped the pencil against his lips and tried to think of a rhyme. Fizzen? Bizzen? Risen? It was a good line, and he hated to cut it. Maybe if he moved it around A few quick erases and:


I scream your name, and plead for some escape,


But you stand away and do not heed my calls.


Chapter 123: Cyprus - Future's Promise, Part 1