Wednesday, January 14, 2015

Bewitching Book Tours: Now scheduling a two week tour for Bottle Banished: Dreaming of Genie by C.L. Riley

Bewitching Book Tours: Now scheduling a two week tour for Bottle Banished: Dreaming of Genie by C.L. Riley

 I am very excited to participate with Roxanne and Bewitching Book Tours. I am hoping to spread the word about Bottle Banished: Dreaming of Genie. With so many amazing books and authors to choose from, it is crucial readers get a chance to meet my characters. 

So...who shall I introduce first? 

Just for fun, I am going to use famous people to represent my characters. So I'm casting, Kûru, our evil, sexy, obsessive, domineering, sex-fueled djinn, with the one and only...Dwayne Johnson. In this particular photo (love the quote, too!) Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson, reminds me of my jinn. Add a few more tribal tattoos across his chest and back, and ears that are a tad more pointy, and you've got my bad boy jinn.

Here is an excerpt from Bottle Banished featuring Kûru the Jinn:

Too impatient to wait for his driver to open the door,
Kûru grabbed his leather jacket and slipped from the limo with inhuman grace. Side stepping him on the sidewalk, the driver raised a brow, clearly impressed by his quick reflexes.

He would need to be more careful.

Toning down his unnatural speed and flexibility wasn’t easy, but he had to make every effort to blend in. Nodding at the driver, he headed toward the entrance, energized by the thrill of the hunt.

A young woman pushed by. “Excuse me. I’m late for a meeting.” She bustled in without giving him a second glance.

Usually just a brush against him triggered a heated response. He entered after her, intrigued. He wasn’t sure what she looked like. She’d been so quick, all he had noticed was her hair’s ginger waves. Scanning the room, he struggled without success to spot her through the crowd.

True to the driver’s word, the place looked like a Wall Street after-hour-hangout. He could smell wealth and desperation. Like him, not everyone here was who they appeared to be. There were women hoping to snare rich patrons and men who had lost everything, eager for invitations back into the world they’d been barred from. Most curious was the scent of magic. It was faint, but nevertheless, all too real.

On guard and acutely aware of his surroundings, he made his way through the crowded tables, forcing himself to bump against a chair. “Pardon me,” he muttered, hating the farce.

How could humans live with their clumsiness? Just faking it disgusted him, but until he identified the magic’s source, he would remain wary and make every effort to appear human. He couldn’t afford to be blindsided by an enemy jinn or hunter.

Finding an empty stool at the long bar, he leaned back, arms crossed, and faced the room.

A jazz band played on one of several stages under a canopy of colorful lights. The atmosphere and décor were indeed designed to reflect the customers’ wealth. Waitresses wore simple, form-fitting black dresses with basic low-heeled pumps and carried their silver trays with expert ease, while the male servers moved through the room, spinning and ducking to avoid accidents with their own practiced precision. Their black dress shirts and slacks were casually classy. Over all, the place was sleek but simple.

As expected, women were starting to notice him. Men had spotted him as well, marking him as a rival to their chances at business and pleasure. He understood he was also what regular attendees might refer to as “fresh meat.” He shook his head at the ridiculous comparison.

A perky waitress stopped in front of him. “The bartender looks pretty busy. Can I get you something?” She pressed out her breasts and smiled, looking too young to be peddling liquor.

“Scotch, Johnnie Walker, blue label, minimal ice.”

She waited for him to say more, but he didn’t. He was on a mission and didn’t have time for frivolous pleasures, not tonight. Cocktail waitresses were off the menu no matter how tasty they might be.

A few minutes later she returned with his drink. He gave her a sizable tip, regretting he couldn’t give her what she really wanted.

After enduring sixty minutes of flirty advances from intoxicated women and challenging stares from the men, he was weary of the whole scene. Despite their social standing, the humans were predictable and boring. No one stood out, and he’d yet to locate the woman from earlier.

Ready to leave, he headed through the crowd to the men’s room. He wanted to wash his hands of this place both literally and figuratively.

At a table near the back, surrounded by gossiping females, he recognized the woman he’d been searching for. Apparently the meeting had been her birthday celebration. She was tearing shiny paper from a box. A half-eaten cake with candles, surrounded by empty glasses, took up the table’s central spot. Unlike the rest of her party, she paid him no heed. The others had stopped watching her to stare at him.

“Ladies! I’m over here! What’s wrong with…?” She finally lifted her head to meet his gaze. She scowled. “Can I help you with something?”

Her friends tittered nervously. “Cassie,” one chided. “That’s rude.”

He looked over his shoulder and back. She had to be kidding, right? No human female had ever rejected him. Only his genie could claim that feat.

Fighting the urge to turn up his sex appeal, he slammed through the bathroom door, humiliated. Another man followed. “Don’t feel bad. We’ve all tried to hit that tonight. She’s one of those ice queens. Her friends seem pretty impressed with you, though. At least you don’t have to go home alone.”

He wanted to strangle the man now humming as he faced the urinal, but instead accepted a towel offered by the bathroom attendant who kept his expression neutral. He handed over a tip and made a quick escape before he’d be forced to hear anymore sage advice from a useless human.

Frustrated by Cassie’s rejection, he stomped by their table, focused on the exit.

“Wait! Please!”

He stopped, turning slowly. Cassie waved him over. Too curious to resist, he found himself standing beside their table.

“I’m sorry. I was impolite. You didn’t do anything. I’m just sick of …”

“Men,” the woman on her left supplied. “She’s sick of men.”

Not sure what to say, he raised an eyebrow.

“You look about as lost as I feel,” Cassie laughed. “Come on, have a seat. I’m sure one of these other non-man-hating ladies will buy you a drink.”

Feeling oddly uncomfortable, he pulled out a chair.

Before he could sit, the scent of magic, stronger this time, assaulted him with its one of a kind sweetness. The nearby employee entrance was flung open and a handful of masked men poured into the room, weapons drawn.

The need to protect Cassie was both sudden and unexpected.

He leapt over the table and pushed her behind him. The band stopped and people scrambled to hide under tables; others cowered on the floor crying. An ammonia laced odor was evidence that bladders had emptied the second the gunmen entered.

Keeping their weapons pointed into the crowd, the men parted like the red sea for Moses, but rather than the biblical hero, a lean Hispanic man swaggered into the room, talking as he walked. “No need to be so scared. I’m here for one person. He knows who he is. If he comes willingly, you all can continue your evening. No one gets hurt. Comprende’? If he doesn’t, I kill one of you every minute until he does.”

No one moved.

Kûru glanced to the right where the magic seemed strongest.

His nephew’s gaze met his. At least he wasn’t in a bottle, banished.

Using the link existing between jinns, Kûru sent him a mental message: Do not reveal you recognize me. I will free you, and we will enact our revenge. I promise you. The leader, is he Santiago?

No. His younger brother. Santiago sends others to do his dirty work.

Had it been Santiago, Kûru might have acted right then.

“You!” Santiago’s brother pointed at him. “Why aren’t you on your knees like everyone else? Since you are so brave, you die first.”

“No!” Cassie cried behind him, warming his heart despite the guns now pointed at his head.

He sneered at the threat, satisfied to see his adversary flinch. Apparently, the younger Santiago had expected him to collapse on the floor and plead for his life.

That would never happen. Not now. Not ever.

He’d have to risk using magic. Fortunately, the options for creative retaliation were infinite. If he could find a way to finish this swiftly, without revealing his powers, he’d call the night a success.


When I first had the idea for a bad ass jinn, I was reminded of a character from the TV series, Supernatural. Remember this djinn?

Though, scary, he didn't have the sex appeal I was seeking. Thus:

I hope you enjoyed the teaser! Most scenes involving my lead jinn include steamy sex, so I am keeping it simple on the blog. Watch for more character cameos coming soon! I'd love to hear who you think would make a sexy, evil, djinn. Please share! I welcome reader interaction. So let's interact!

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