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

They reached their destination an hour before dawn. A tumbled down barn with a skeleton windmill was all that stood in the lonely field. There were no trees, and no vampires waiting to meet them.


Obrad cursed silently and dialed the office. "I specifically said to have the vampire who called meet us. Where are they?"


"I don't know, s-sir. We couldn't get ahold of them again."


"Couldn't get-" he broke off before he reeled out a tirade on their incompetence. "Fine. Give me the address of their den. We'll need somewhere to stay."


Obrad sucked air between his teeth. "What?"


"They, uh, they left a name. Jenny, but no one thought to get an address. And it's not in the database."


Obrad grabbed Cornelius' phone and zipped to the app. He put in their location, but sure enough there was no Jenny nearby, only the coven who had originally complained; a coven Obrad had spoken to earlier that day.


Chapter 185: Obrad Waylaid, Part 3