Fire and Ink

By K.L. Noone

Sequel to Port in a Storm

Three months ago David Stanton rescued a runaway kitten in the rain. Now he's got an infamous -- and infamously powerful -- feline shapeshifter living in his house, helping with his white-witch business, and making him smile. David’s falling in love fast, but there's still the problem of Colin's past ... and the secrets he's obviously keeping.

Colin Rue fled his vicious warlock, found a kindhearted white witch and fell in love, and he never wants to leave. But he isn’t sure he’s good for David. After all, he’s a runaway with a scandalous past, he’s never tried to settle down before, and he’s making David’s life way more complicated.

But when a fire threatens the neighborhood, David needs Colin’s magic to help. If together they can save people, maybe Colin’s got a purpose after all ...

• Language: English
• Publisher: JMS Books LLC
• Release date: Sep 4, 2019
• ISBN: 9781646560585

K.L. Noone

K.L. Noone loves fantasy, romance, cats, far too sweet coffee, and happy endings! She is also the author of Port in a Storm and its upcoming sequel, available from Less Than Three Press, and numerous short romances with Ellora’s Cave and Circlet Press; her fantasy fiction has appeared in Marion Zimmer Bradley’s Sword and Sorceress anthologies. With her Professor Hat on, she teaches college students about Shakespeare and superhero comics, and has published academic articles and essays on Neil Gaiman’s adaptations of Beowulf, Welsh mythology in modern fantasy, and Terry Pratchett’s Discworld novels.

Book preview

Fire and Ink

By K.L. Noone

Published by JMS Books LLC

Visit jms-books.com for more information.

Copyright 2019 K.L. Noone

ISBN 9781646560585

Cover Design: Natasha Snow

Image(s) used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.

All rights reserved.

WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.

This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It may contain sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which might be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Published in the United States of America.

* * * *

For everyone who wanted more of David and Colin—this is for you!

* * * *

Fire and Ink

By K.L. Noone

I’m in love with him, David Stanton announced, and he’s not happy, and finished off half his beer.

His younger brother’s matching pint paused mid-air. We are talking about Colin, right, because—

Yes!

"Oh, good, because this would’ve been a much angrier conversation otherwise. I like Colin." Brian set the glass down and frowned at him. So did his half-pastrami and onion rings. They collectively disapproved of his shortcomings. The entire sandwich shop, bright under green awnings and frequented by just about everyone in the neighborhood, leaned in sunny yellow walls and home-brewed craft beer to eavesdrop.

I know, David said to them all, and put his own poor underappreciated pint on the table and put his elbows on the table and put his face in his hands. I know. He got the irony, too. Of the two of them, Brian had been the dramatic one: the wilder childhood, the rashness, the forays into hexweed and—once or twice—worse drugs, while David had steadily bailed him out, helped get him through school, and concurrently run the white witch and neighborhood healer’s shop. They’d grown up and switched places very recently, somehow, three months recently in fact.

This judgment was unfair. He knew it was. Brian these days put minor empathic skills to use as a counselor, primarily for troubled new-to-magic teens, and had his own apartment and a healthy amount of admiration from various social workers and civil authorities. That recklessness lay in the past. David’s own recklessness, apparently, had only been biding its time.

Brian was a counselor, he thought. Good. His little brother could damn well counsel.

And had excellent, if annoying, instincts. Why do you think he’s not happy? We’re going to come back to the whole love part. You. You being head over heels in love. I mean, wow. But anyway Colin first.

Colin first. David emerged from behind his hands. Didn’t even bother poking back after the teasing. He wasn’t romantic. He knew that, too. Of course he comes first. I don’t know what to do.

Three months ago David had brought home an actual therianthrope. A proper shapeshifter, brimming over with innate natural magic. Incredibly rare. Exceptional. Only maybe thirty in the world. Astonishing even for a witch, especially so for an unremarkable local witch.

He’d thought he was rescuing a lost kitten in the rain. He’d found Colin Rue, pretty-eyed and mischievous and wounded and stunningly, dazzlingly kind.

He’d known who Colin was, at least once his new kitten had decided to trust him and transformed into a human-shaped vision of enticing, long-legged winsomeness. He’d heard a few of those rumors. Fireflower drops, parties, decadent kept-kitten nights, a pet of wealthy and charming and seductive sorcerers and warlocks and enchantresses. Bartering those magical reserves, that natural power-source, for sex and luxury and lavish living.

He’d never expected Colin Rue to be scared, brave, and generous under much-practiced flippancy.

Even if he had, he hadn’t expected Colin to want to stay with him. Not with anyone. Not after—

David gritted teeth and held back fireball-related urges every time he thought of it. Even now.

He stared at his sandwich. Surreptitiously drew a tiny inkless sketch on his napkin: not fire but a scorch-mark. It made