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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 99: Fallon - Taste in Men, Part 5

Fallon shoved the note at him, then ran to her closet, her dresser, her bookcase. Everything was empty. He dashed past his fellow guard, back to the bathroom. Sure, it was tidy, but gone were the fancy soaps, the makeup basket, and the electric hair curlers. In the front room, the record stand had been cleaned out. Even the record player was gone. Laura had packed up everything she owned and run away with Warren and his leather jacket.

Fantastic.

Fallon closed his eyes and concentrated on his sister; on her leaving. He saw her packing records in an old green suitcase, saw her folding clothes, humming to herself. Then he saw a flashy sports car. Warren grinned, his dark hair slicked back, and his leather jacket shiny under the street lights. A flash of brick building behind him said that they'd made it somewhere else, though Fallon couldn't see where.

Uniform forgotten, he started for the door. "I need to go look for her!"