Take it away Victoria!
Bollywood Nightmare by Victoria Blisse
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?
Reader Advisory: This book contains contains a scene of dubious consent, some hot spanking, sexy bondage and a sarcastic Djinn you are going to fall in love with.
Reader Advisory: This book is best read in sequence as part of a series.
I wasn’t generally one to be overly emotional but as much as I was looking forward to moving out and being free of my parents and that damn Djinn, I knew I would miss them. My parents that was, not Johnny. I would definitely not miss Johnny.
I told him so when he lifted my suitcase into the car the next morning.
“Feeling’s mutual, my dear,” he said with a smirk. “Being imprisoned is a pretty horrible thing but it’s even worse to be on babysitting duty twenty-four-seven. Good riddance to you.”
“You say the nicest things.” I beamed and blew him an insincere air kiss before hugging my parents and leaping into the back of the limo. I hadn’t known anything beyond Mumbai in my twenty years apart from the odd trip to Goa for a break. Mum might have had her origins in London but she had no ties to take her back there. I’d never been abroad on holiday, which was madness knowing how much money my father brought in, and I’d never really even explored India. Most Bollywood pictures used the sets in Mumbai and rarely went off to exotic locations.
Mumbai seemed exotic to those who didn’t live there. I supposed the same could be said for Las Vegas or Blackpool but when you lived there year round and you saw the grubbiness behind the twinkling bright lights you soon became fed up of even the most exciting locales. So, as the tall buildings, the glam cafés and bars rolled past, the beautiful people in shades and sparkling saris, the tourists with their cameras and their guide books, the bling and the brightness were all lost on me. I just ignored it all and dreamt of what lay ahead in the land of morning glory…well, the saying was something like that, I was sure.
Flying was not as exciting as I had thought it would be. It was kind of sickening at first actually, with the climbing and the ear popping and the growling engines. Okay, so I was in first class and I had hot towels—for what purpose I had little clue—champagne and a very good-looking steward at my beck and call. He had an arse a girl could really appreciate and eyes that sparkled with mischief.
Once the discomfort of take-off faded away I quickly became bored. The film was one I’d seen before, in fact my father starred in it, and I was finding it impossible to sleep. However, I got the nice, Indian steward to pass me down a light blanket and I enjoyed the way he draped it across my body and stroked the wrinkles straight, cupping my curves when he had no real need to do so. I smiled at him and he winked at me.
“Sweet dreams, Miss,” he whispered and then wandered away from me to deal with a business man three chairs in front. His arse really was well worth ogling. Mum had taught me many an English word that I loved to use but Dad hated hearing me use. Arse was one of them.
That steward did have a bloody good arse though. I imagined what it might be like naked, which then led to thoughts of touching it, clutching at it even as he lay between my thighs, thrusting into me with an equally pleasing member .
Now, this made me sound like a randy young thing who just had nothing but sex on the brain but, well, it was kind of true. You had to remember I was really just discovering my sexuality and I decided the more practice the better really.
I did have a blanket covering me and there was no one sat beside me so really, it wasn’t that sluttish of me to reach my hand down under the blanket and beneath my skirt. No one could see me wiggle a finger between my sticky lips. I really was quite discreet.
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Victoria Blisse is a Mother, Wife, Christian, Manchester United Fan and Award Winning Erotica Authoress. She is also the editor of several Bigger Briefs collections, and the co-editor of the fabulous Smut by the Sea and Smut in the City Anthologies.
She is equally at home behind a laptop or a cooker and she loves to create stories, poems, cakes and biscuits that make people happy. She was born near Manchester, England and her northern English quirkiness shows through in all of her stories. Passion, love and laughter fill her works, just as they fill her busy life.
You can find her on Facebook http://facebook.com/victoriablisse , Twitter http://twitter.com/victoriablisse and Pinterest http://pinterest.com/victoriablisse . And visit her website http://victoriablisse.co.uk for more info.
Thanks so much for being my guest today Victoria. Folks, Victoria does the bestest promos ever. You should check out her Sunday Snogs, her Blissemas and Blissekiss promotions, and the Smutters! Great stuff!
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