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Tales of the Executioners

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.

Joleene Naylor · Horror
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186 Chs

Chapter 72: Dismas - Prayers of the Damned, Part 4

That first morning, as they took shelter in a barn, Archer brought up their destination again.

"The Guild will kill us," Noris snapped.

"As will Kateesha," Asher bit back. "At least within the citadel we will be safe from her and her anger, or do you wish to end as Waio?"

Noris cursed, but finally agreed. With two in accord, that made Dismas' opinion inconsequential. Not that he knew what his opinion was. Both paths led to death. It only depended how they wanted to die. At least the Executioners would probably make it quick, not drag it out like Kateesha would.

"Blister, burn, and peel."

They rode through the darkness, ever sure of pursuit, even as they drew closer and closer to the citadel without incident. Each day, Dismas' sleep was shrouded in red lipped phantoms demanding his blood, while his nights were a blur of traveling through heavy trees, and moon drenched fields, always looking over his shoulder.