Authors: Victoria Blisse
A Total-E-Bound Publication
ISBN # 978-1-78184-175-4
©Copyright Victoria Blisse 2012
Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright December 2012
Edited by Eleanor Boyall
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2012 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom.
This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a
This story contains 88 pages, additionally there is also a
at the end of the book containing 6 pages.
Book two in the Djinn’s Amulet Series
Sometimes what seems to be a nightmare can change into a dream come true.
Kiya is the daughter of Rahul Khan, the biggest Bollywood star of all time and she is a talented actress in her own right. Her abundant curves have taken Bollywood by storm and now Hollywood is knocking at her door.
Johnny is the Khan family Djinn. He is responsible for Rahul meeting his true love Laura. Well, that’s what he tells people anyway. His Masters latest wish is the safekeeping of his daughter Kiya on her American adventure. How he ends up powerless and alone he’s not quite sure and how he’s going to rescue the kidnapped Kiya without his Djinn magic is a mystery.
Luckily, Kiya has many talents She sets about seducing her captor, Aseem but it isn’t just her virginity he takes, it’s her heart.
Will Kiya and Aseem beat the odds, escape the badlands warehouse and have all the wild, kinky sexy they long for? Will Johnny be wished free, will he go to his soul mate in Djinnistan and will they all live happily ever after?
Without my husband this book wouldn’t have a title and would be struggling for a plot. Thank you for being my inspiration.
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Ziploc: SC Johnson & Son, Inc
Concorde: British Aircraft Corporation
I never meant to upset anyone. I swear I’m a happy-go-lucky fun-loving kind of guy, but apparently I rub some people up the wrong way. Hi, I’m Johnny, well, to you I’m Johnny, I don’t give my real name away to humans. I’m a Djinn and I belong to Rahul. His family captured me many moons ago and passed me down through the generations.
Rahul met a woman some time past, they were both young and in love and they married. It caused a huge stir as not only was Laura British she was white British—I’m talking like new-laid snow, folks—and a Bollywood star marrying out of his faith and his race caused a big kerfuffle all around the world, not just in Mumbai.
They’ve proved their critics wrong because twenty-three years later they are still together and as much in love as ever. It makes me sick to my stomach to see them fawning all over each other. It’d upset you too if you were stuck in another world far away from the one you loved. Back in Jennistan is my girl. I don’t even know if she is still my girl after all these years. I am hoping so. We were hopelessly in love back in the day. We doted on one another and were pledged to be married.
Anyway, that’s more than you really need to know. I’m getting old and stupid. I should keep my guard up more often but living with humans taints me, makes me weak.
So, I like to tell stories. Ask anyone. I told a really good one a while ago all about Rahul and his arranged marriage and how I saved the day. It was brilliant and would have been a massive hit if the damn author hadn’t decided to add in Laura’s side of the story too. She just doesn’t have the art like I do. Anyway, here’s a new story for you, I do hope you’ll enjoy it. Actually, I don’t give two hoots if you do or not, I’m just telling it to pass the time in this infernal hell of a human world I live in.
* * * *
So yes, Rahul and Laura married. It was almost a fairy tale. He worked in the movies and she became the translator she’d always dreamed of being. They were disgustingly happy and content and I had high hopes that Rahul would finally wish me free. Then one evening as he supped cold beer in the stifling heat of midsummer I asked him about it.
“So, you’ve got everything you ever wanted, right?”
“Yes,” he replied, lazily wiping sweat from his brow with the back of a hand.
“And you’re in love and so very happy, right?”
“Oh, yeah.” He still got that dewy-eyed possessed look every time he thought of Laura. Sickening.
“Then you don’t really need me anymore, right?”
“Come on, Rahul. You have true love and we Djinns can’t even grant that wish, nuh-uh, but I did, didn’t I? I got you married to your true love.”
“Your ego has no bounds, Johnny. Yes, no doubt you helped and I thank you for it but the true love came about naturally despite the odds.”
“Oh blah, blah, blah. Whatever. I thought you were going to wish me free when you were happy and settled and all that crap.”
“Yes, I was going to but something has happened recently to change my mind.”
“What’s happened? Has Laura come to her senses and shagged someone hunkier and richer than you?”
“Now you’re just being petulant. No, Laura has not. She has, however, given me some good news.”
“She’s returning to England and she’s taking her Britpop CD’s home with her?”
“No, Johnny. Just listen for a minute, would you? Laura is pregnant.”
“Is that all you have to say? Geez. I thought you were meant to be the eloquent one.”
“Congratulations on the imminent birth of your little crying bratling. Here’s to sleepless nights, smelly nappies and toddler tantrums.”
I disappeared then into my little tea kettle. No puff of smoke, no drama. Just a fully grown man shrinking and slipping down the spout of a tall, Eastern-looking brass kettle. It might not be much but I called it home. Bottles were over-rated and don’t get me started on lamps. Pregnant. Shit. I hadn’t considered what would happen then.
“Please, Johnny. Don’t sulk.” I could hear Rahul perfectly well through the metal walls of my home. I really should think about getting them soundproofed. “I was all for releasing you, really I was, but now I’ve created new life. We’re going to have a baby, Johnny—well, Laura and I are, you’ve got nothing to do with it—and it’s a big scary world out there. How can I send my little
out into it alone? It would be remiss of me to do so when I have the greatest gift known to mankind. I’m sorry, Johnny, but what’s a few extra years of being my servant, really? I am a good master, I am not a slave driver. And once my little one is established then maybe I will wish you free.”
It was not the first time I’d heard the speech, in fact I’d heard variations of it several times over the years. Certain of my masters did seem to care for me and they would promise my freedom, then suddenly they had the prospect of becoming daddies and all sense went out of the window along with my hopes and dreams of freedom. Having your heart ripped out and your dreams stomped on wasn’t something you got used to but sadly it was something I jadedly began to expect from my arsehole human masters.
* * * *
So a few months later the bratling was born. All small and wrinkly and noisy. Laura would have told you the birth was a bitch but then she wasn’t a Djinn. Djinn mothers had a proper hard time of it—fire, brimstone, a week in labour and a baby with horns to contend with. Human women didn’t know their luck. Laura was in labour for ten hours and seemed to think she’d survived some great trial. Bloody humans always thought they were greater than they were.
Okay, so granted the little wrinkly human was pretty cute. I did like babies and no, not for my breakfast, that wasn’t something we Djinns did anymore. The bones got stuck in our teeth. I got quite attached to the little thing. I did have a little bit of sentimentality inside and when we first met she looked me straight in the eye and smiled.
Laura said it was wind and babies a few hours old didn’t smile, especially not to Djinns in full Djinn splendour complete with horns and sharp dagger-like teeth. But she knew nothing. That baby smiled at me.
They called her Kiya because apparently, Rahul heard the early-morning chorus of sweet birds chirping in the trees around the hospital as Laura popped out the sprog. How romantic. Kiya was a human baby, what more could you say? She cried, she pooped, she cried some more. She smiled though and one baby smile made you forget all the poop and the sick and the endless crying. It must have been a form of magic because it even worked on Djinns.
If I heard her whimpering in her cot at night I would go to her sometimes and sing to her lullabies from my world. She would always coo and sigh and sleep deeply after that. I would hold her occasionally and pull my funny Djinn face. She loved it and would howl with laughter.
“Johnny, would you stop it,” Laura would say, “you’ll scare her half to death with your real face.”
But she was never scared of me no matter the guise I used. I settled into staying human most of the time as she grew older because it would not be fair on the little sweetheart. She would have been laughed at if she told her mates that her old friend Johnny had many faces.
Kiya grew up as children do. She learnt to talk then walk and as soon as she got the hang of those two things she flew off into adulthood like a speeding bullet. School came and school went. Term after term flew by until the tiny baby who smiled turned into the teenager who scowled. She no longer found me funny. Mostly because she knew she could not command me, only Rahul could and that annoyed her.
“It’s time to go home.” I showed up at a party to escort her back to her family.
“Oh, Johnny, it’s still early.” She sighed dramatically and flicked her delicate wrist at me. Her friends laughed.
“Yes, it is early, so early that the sun is about to rise. You told your father you’d be home by midnight.”
“I lied,” she said matter-of-factly.