Ready to taste something sinfully good but oh, so bad for you? PNR author Mina Khan is treating us to some Irish Djinn...
Rukh O’Shay (djinn/human assassin-Irish stock)
Recipe created by Mina Khan
The Djinn’s Dilemma
2 striking ocean blue eyes
Tanned thighs & chiseled cheekbones
Several pounds of rippling muscle
Generous dash of exotic Djinnish essence
A heap of Irish charm
1/3 cup darkness and shadows
1/3 cup liquid smoke
1/3 cup dark chocolate
A heaping handful of secrets
A bunch of wild tattoos
1 cup danger and bad-ass
2 tablespoons of good rum
A dash of wit and an ounce of snark
Breathtaking sexy skills in and out of the bedroom
A heart full of romance (with the right spark!)
Mix it all up, let it simmer to a boil, and serve at sunset with a side of cold beer and hot Salsa music, in a bed, in a car or in the shower.
Taste Test
(From the heroine Sarah’s POV. Rukh has just rescued her from two would-be attackers):
The guy was big. Bigger than the other two put together. Big, silent and overwhelming, like night personified. His dark hair, thick and full, fell in unruly waves that just brushed his broad shoulders, swept away from a high forehead. Ocean-blue eyes, striking against his dark tan, stared at her full of concern.
Damn it, she was a reporter, not a romance writer. The guy could be in cahoots with the other two. Maybe it was a plot to make her think he’d rescued her and to get close. Her grip on the bag tightened. If she survived this, she’d have to give a description to the police. Something useful, an identifying mark, not a description that would make her a laughingstock.
“Are you okay?”
She managed a nod, as her gaze traveled from his tempting cupid-bow mouth, down his thick, sweaty neck. Black tattoos swirled and licked across his skin, then disappeared under the gray T-shirt, only to emerge in a wild flourish to wrap around the rippling muscles of his bicep and flow down his left arm. Tattoos could be useful for identification, but a wave of desire washed through her, leaving her dizzy. She swayed.
He took a step forward. The movement set her free and she stumbled back. “What do you want?”
“Looked like you were in trouble.” He shrugged. “I just wanted to help.”
“Thanks.” However, journalism and suspicion went together like chocolate and peanut butter. Her gaze locked with his. “What are you doing here? I haven’t seen you at the paper.”
A dark flush speared across his chiseled cheekbones. He managed a sheepish grin. “I parked in
the paper’s lot for quick access to the trail.”
His sweat-stained T-shirt and dark shorts supported his story. Her eyes traveled lower, checked out his nice-sized package, lingered over his tanned thighs. What the heck was wrong with her? She was tired and traumatized. But she knew danger could be a turn-on, a way to say thanks for being alive. Nothing more than a heightened reaction. She needed to go home.
“Thanks for coming to help.” She licked her lips. “Who are you?”
“Rukh.” The way he rolled his r’s set off an answering purr inside her.
“I’m Sarah. Sarah Jasmine White,” she said, extending her hand.
He gave a quick nod as he extended his. Their fingers met, his hand engulfed hers. A dizzying jolt of electricity surged through her and hot unadulterated need exploded deep within her gut.
Sarah’s breath rushed out as she pulled her hand from his and stepped forward. She reached up, let her fingers slide into his hair, and pulled his dark, scowling face down as she kissed him.
He stood rigid and frozen in her arms. His hot breath caressed her cheeks.
Her wanton tongue traced over his lips. A soft moan escaped him, leaving behind a half-opened mouth and ragged breath.
Sarah slipped her tongue in, and tasted warm, dark chocolate.
She winced as he grasped a fistful of her curls and kissed her back. His tongue, lips and teeth worked her. Angry, demanding and hungry. As the kiss grew, everything physical between them—flesh, muscles, bones—seemed to evaporate. Until his taste invaded every pore.
The guy was big. Bigger than the other two put together. Big, silent and overwhelming, like night personified. His dark hair, thick and full, fell in unruly waves that just brushed his broad shoulders, swept away from a high forehead. Ocean-blue eyes, striking against his dark tan, stared at her full of concern.
Damn it, she was a reporter, not a romance writer. The guy could be in cahoots with the other two. Maybe it was a plot to make her think he’d rescued her and to get close. Her grip on the bag tightened. If she survived this, she’d have to give a description to the police. Something useful, an identifying mark, not a description that would make her a laughingstock.
“Are you okay?”
She managed a nod, as her gaze traveled from his tempting cupid-bow mouth, down his thick, sweaty neck. Black tattoos swirled and licked across his skin, then disappeared under the gray T-shirt, only to emerge in a wild flourish to wrap around the rippling muscles of his bicep and flow down his left arm. Tattoos could be useful for identification, but a wave of desire washed through her, leaving her dizzy. She swayed.
He took a step forward. The movement set her free and she stumbled back. “What do you want?”
“Looked like you were in trouble.” He shrugged. “I just wanted to help.”
“Thanks.” However, journalism and suspicion went together like chocolate and peanut butter. Her gaze locked with his. “What are you doing here? I haven’t seen you at the paper.”
A dark flush speared across his chiseled cheekbones. He managed a sheepish grin. “I parked in
the paper’s lot for quick access to the trail.”
His sweat-stained T-shirt and dark shorts supported his story. Her eyes traveled lower, checked out his nice-sized package, lingered over his tanned thighs. What the heck was wrong with her? She was tired and traumatized. But she knew danger could be a turn-on, a way to say thanks for being alive. Nothing more than a heightened reaction. She needed to go home.
“Thanks for coming to help.” She licked her lips. “Who are you?”
“Rukh.” The way he rolled his r’s set off an answering purr inside her.
“I’m Sarah. Sarah Jasmine White,” she said, extending her hand.
He gave a quick nod as he extended his. Their fingers met, his hand engulfed hers. A dizzying jolt of electricity surged through her and hot unadulterated need exploded deep within her gut.
Sarah’s breath rushed out as she pulled her hand from his and stepped forward. She reached up, let her fingers slide into his hair, and pulled his dark, scowling face down as she kissed him.
He stood rigid and frozen in her arms. His hot breath caressed her cheeks.
Her wanton tongue traced over his lips. A soft moan escaped him, leaving behind a half-opened mouth and ragged breath.
Sarah slipped her tongue in, and tasted warm, dark chocolate.
She winced as he grasped a fistful of her curls and kissed her back. His tongue, lips and teeth worked her. Angry, demanding and hungry. As the kiss grew, everything physical between them—flesh, muscles, bones—seemed to evaporate. Until his taste invaded every pore.
Rukh O’Shay, half-djinn and assassin, is used to taking out the bad guys. But his latest assignment, Sarah White, is nothing like he expected. A glimpse of her bright aura reveals her gentle spirit, while her luscious beauty clouds his mind and makes him long for only one thing—to taste her.
Sarah shares the feeling of raw desire at Rukh’s touch. He can turn her on with a glance, and satisfies desires she didn’t even know she had. But Rukh had been hired to kill her—and the only way to save her is to find out who wants her dead before someone else finishes the job…
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Mina Khan is a Texas-based writer and food enthusiast. She grew up in Bangladesh on stories of djinns (pronounced "gins"), ghosts and monsters. These childhood fancies now color her fiction. She daydreams of hunky paranormal heroes, magic, mayhem and mischief and writes them down as tales of romance and adventure.
Her first published work, The Djinn's Dilemma, won the novella category of the 2012 Romance Through The Ages (published) contest. To sign up for Mina’s quarterly newsletter with release updates and inside information on the stories.
Mina Khan is a Texas-based writer and food enthusiast. She grew up in Bangladesh on stories of djinns (pronounced "gins"), ghosts and monsters. These childhood fancies now color her fiction. She daydreams of hunky paranormal heroes, magic, mayhem and mischief and writes them down as tales of romance and adventure.
Her first published work, The Djinn's Dilemma, won the novella category of the 2012 Romance Through The Ages (published) contest. To sign up for Mina’s quarterly newsletter with release updates and inside information on the stories.
***GIVEAWAY***
*A signed copy of my second novella A Tale of Two Djinns
*a reusable stylish tote
*a multi-highlighter
*note pad
*a genie lamp key chain
*a bag of dark chocolate because my hero reminds me of dark chocolate
