Read Ink Novels & Stories

We will find out the story of how Ink met Tina, and how he became the president of The Titan Kings MC. Thank you all for your love and support in this book. I hope you enjoy it, please comment to tell me what you think. RL Dickinson xx

I asked curiously. Dahlia's face lit up with a smile. "It's actually quite simple, but it takes practice to get it right," she said. "First, you have to choose the right kind of ink stick. Different types of ink sticks produce different shades of ink, so it's important to choose the right one for the job. Then, you need to hold the ink stick at an angle and rub it against the ink stone with just the right amount of pressure. You have to be careful not to grind too hard, or the ink will become gritty and uneven. And you have to be patient - it can take a while to get the ink to the right consistency." I tried to picture it in my mind, but it was hard to imagine without actually doing it mysel

Draven’s hand tightened around mine. “Well, no.” Lucas said, his neck flushing. “Not the same since I threw it away, but an identical letter. Every stroke, every word, the same. Even the smell of the ink.” I couldn’t stop the surprise from leaking into my voice. “You can tell ink apart by smell?” “Well, yes.” He said, his brows furrowed as if I had asked something obvious. Then he followed it up with, “it’s part of our training to notice things like this.”

“But if she shoots me or something, I’m blaming your ass. You owe me a bottle of the good whiskey for this.” Martil chuckled low. “Deal. Just call me when you know something. And Kaleb… be gentle about it. Corleone says Ink’s been off lately.” “Yeah, yeah. I got it.” I hung up and tried her number immediately. It rang once, then went straight to that cheerful voicemail I knew too well. “Hi! This is Ink. Leave a message and I’ll hit you back… maybe.” Unavailable. I tried again. Same thing. Third time, it was nothing but that robotic “the number you are trying to reach is currently unavailable.”

The old handwriting continued across the page. Then I noticed the newer writing.Black ink.Sharper.Cleaner.Written between the original lines.My chest tightened.Those notes weren't ancient.They had been added much later."When were these written?""We don't know.""You said the ledger was ancient.""It is.""Then someone came back and wrote in it.""Exactly."I looked closer.

“What do you mean? That’s what the guards were already instructed to do before the two of you were called for the session.” “These are five years old,” I say, holding them up so he can see the date. “Which means that the ink isn’t an accurate reference. I know that the Prince sourced a special ink from up north and even paid the creators in exchange for their written agreement that they would never sell it to anyone else. The same thing with the ink from the rest of the document. It’s not the same as the one that’s found in Prince Kaine’s office.” The King shoots a glance at a guard, presumably the one that went to go get the documents in the first place. “What’s the meaning of this? Everyon

I swear I need to tattoo dick one and dick two on their heads just to keep track. “Joke, fuck me, Caleb, joke!” Ink laughs, hands up in surrender, still pinned under Caleb’s weight. Caleb climbs off Ink, and boots him once before sitting down. Damn, I thought we were in for a show. “Ya really want me to tattoo ya fuckin’ ass?” Ink calls, and I nod. “Hell yes, then when I get drunk and do foolish shit and send it to her in video she knows it’s me.” Everyone howls with laughter, but I mean it. I’m making her aware that I’m hers.

She replied, "The red ink pen in the office." I started laughing harder. "You mean the indelible red ink pen in the office that will not come off." She looked horrified and then started laughing hysterically. "Just please fuck me good for my attempt to be creative." I did. Brittney's personality always kept me off balance. Most people have a business face and a personal face. Brittney's was more than that. One day I bought three yellow roses from a peddler at a stoplight. When Brittney came home the roses were in a small crystal vase on the kitchen table.

Gold—my mother’s signature color. I rushed over, ripping the envelope open. There were two letters inside. The first one, in my mother’s familiar handwriting, sent a shiver down my spine. "My dearest Bai, I cannot believe the trouble you’ve landed yourself in. Perhaps our nosy neighbor was right, but that is a topic for another time. I will do what I can from here to ensure no one discovers your involvement. But, if the king has not yet sent out news of the incident, that’s a good sign for now.

He'd never really considered it beyond the vague notion that had led to him giving himself a Mark that would prevent him from being seeded. Ink held up the vial of ink he was working on. It was the right consistency and color. It just needed a little while to sit so that the components had time to fully fuse together. Stoppering the vial and dropping it into the rack on his work table, Ink stood and stretched. Maybe he'd take a walk on deck to clear his head before he got to work on the actual Marking.