Jinni's Wish-kobo

by Marie Hall

  Jinni’s Wish

  A long, long time ago there lived a man. A Jinni, who had one wish. To know love. But the woman he thought he knew betrayed him and the love he thought they shared. Tortured for his crimes, he was cast out of Kingdom, stripped of all his powers, left to langour in pain and solitude, until eventually he becomes nothing but a ghost...

  Paz Lopez is an artist with a dream. To buy a ridiculously large penthouse in the swankiest section of Chicago. But there's just one hitch, she has no man to share her dream with. A fateful visit to a carnival and Madam Pandora's tent sends Paz on a mission to find the love of her life before it's too late.

  But the Madam forgot to tell Paz one very important detail... to meet him, Paz will have to die first.

  Jinni’s Wish

  by

  Marie Hall

  Jinni’s Wish

  Copyright Marie Hall 2012

  Cover Art by Elaina of For the Muse Designs Copyright June 2012

  Edited by C.C., J.B., Gaele, Sonya, Marie

  Formatted by IRONHORSE Formatting

  Kobo Edition

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Kobo.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

  The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patent Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

  MarieHallWrites@gmail.com

  MarieHallWrites.blogspot.com

  Published in 2012 by Marie Hall, Honolulu, Hawaii, United States of America

  Awknowledgements:

  To my girls, you know who you are. I seriously could never get these things done without you constantly forcing me to sit down and write instead of playing another round of solitaire. Ya’ll are awesome and I heart you!

  Dedication:

  This is to all the fans who write me and tell me how much they just love my books. Writing is such a solitary profession, to get a note is super rewarding. To my fans in Latvia (which is so freaking awesome, seriously), to my fans who bake the Mad Hatter cupcakes now because they sounded so yummy, to those who had to buy each book in a row because they were so hooked… I do this for you guys. Thanks!

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Sneak Peek: Hook’s Pan

  Marie Hall’s Books:

  Authors Note:

  Chapter 1

  “What kind of name is that?” Paz Lopez hopped on one bare foot, while simultaneously gripping the cell phone with her chin as she attempted to slip on her blood red pump. She very nearly broke her neck in the process when she stumbled over the corner of her cream shag rug. “Dang it,” she hissed.

  She could already picture Richard rolling his eyes on the other end of the line. “Diabolique.”

  This time, she was the one to roll her eyes. Plopping down on the edge of her unmade bed, she did what her father used to always say: work smarter, not harder. So much easier to put shoes on when sitting, instead of hopping around like a broken jack in the box.

  “I heard you the first time. But that doesn’t sound like any kind of carnival I’d want to visit. Sounds creepy.”

  “Aww, come on, chicken. Todd and I are going and it’s sorta lame that all you ever want to do on a Friday night is vegg in front of that dinosaur you call a TV and down two point two glasses of vino.”

  Paz loved her brother, she really did. But ugh… she rubbed her nose, stomach churning with nerves and irritation. Now was so not the time to be talking about carnivals, or whatever the hell this Diabolique place was. She had an art show in an hour, today was her make it or break it day. It’d taken months for the hottest gallery in town: Moderne, to agree to even potentially host an exhibit for her.

  Of course they hadn’t. She was too new. But she had a friend, who knew a friend, who knew a guy who had an exhibit scheduled and was in need of ten more paintings to fill the space. Fast forward several boxes of tissues, lots of chocolate, and probably two (okay three) bottles of champagne later, Paz was here. Ready to break out. To become a name. Finally.

  If only her stupid nerves would settle down and stop making her feel like she was totally going to puke all over her pearl gray goose down comforter. Pinching her nose, she counted slowly to ten. She only got to three before Richard starting acting obnoxious as usual.

  “I know you’re there. I hear you breathing.” He proceeded to pantomime harsh deep breaths. “Answer me, or I will stalk you. I know where you liiiiveee.”

  Giggling, she yanked her purple head pillow off the bed and shoved it against her stomach. Maybe pressure would ease the knee-knocking nerves. “You’re really annoying.”

  He snorted. “Yeah, well Todd loves it. So tell me you’re coming.”

  Paz shoved about a week’s worth of bras underneath her bed and lifted the teal shirt off the lampshade she’d tossed carelessly aside last night. Jeez, she was really a slob. Maybe when she got filthy stinking rich she could afford a maid.

  “Are you coming to my show?” She plucked at her bejeweled skirt. Her first and only attempt at making clothes. Skirts were supposedly so easy to make.

  Lie.

  She’d had to undo the stitching four times before she felt certain she wouldn’t zip it up and have a wardrobe malfunction. Namely having the stupid thing fall down around her ankles when she stepped off her elevator into the lobby of her swank Chicago digs.

  Though swank was sorta stretching it. She wasn’t sure the five hundred square foot broom closet she currently called home could ever be considered swank, but she had a great address in the hippest part of town and with any luck, she’d be moving to that penthouse suite after tonight.

  “We wouldn’t miss it.” His voice was warm, reassuring, and Paz couldn’t help but smile. She loved her brother. “But Todd told me to ask you now, because we both know how you get when you’re talking about your art.”

  “No I don’t.” She tossed the pillow away, fiddling with the large cream flower on her black cable knit sweater.

  “Pfft. I didn’t even have to tell you how you act and you’re already defending it. So answer, sis. I’m not getting any younger.”

  “Fine.” She stood, grabbing her purse and wallet
off her green distressed thrift store nightstand. “I’ll go butt face. But I won’t promise to like it, so there.”

  “You don’t have to like it, but you do have to visit Madam Pandora’s tent with me. Bye!”

  “What?” Her brows dipped, but all she heard was the buzz of an empty line.

  Rolling her eyes, she patted her flat blunt bangs and took a deep breath, ready to face her future. Her stomach nosedived. Well, unless she had to puke first.

  ***

  The Chicago fairgrounds were magical at night. Neon lights lit up the park like a firework’s display. Crowds clamored from one red and white pinstriped tent to the next. The buttery scent of popcorn wafted in the air, tickling her nose.

  “Mmm, I’m hungry,” Paz groaned when her stomach growled.

  Todd’s expressive light brown eyes twinkled merrily as he hugged her against his broad chest. A good foot taller than her, with chestnut brown hair, and tanned good looks. Gorgeous and so her type, if it wasn’t for the fact that he was totally off the market.

  “On me then,” he said, voice light and carefree. “A treat for my favorite artist…”

  Richard gripped Todd’s waist, dark brown eyes glowing merrily, rich mocha skin gleaming shades of bronze beneath the neon glow of the Ferris Wheel. Perpetual black cowlick shading the corner of his left eye. “The only artist you know,” he finished, digging into Todd’s chest.

  Todd clamped onto Richard’s hand and kissed the knuckle. A look passing between them made Paz’s knees turn to jelly. What would it feel like to have someone look at her that way? Not that she was old, only twenty-seven, but still, old enough to crave what she’d never known.

  There’d been passion, maybe some toe-curling moments with past boyfriends, but nothing that had ever stuck beyond month six. Maybe she was cursed.

  But she’d sold all ten of her paintings. She smiled, biting her bottom lip… well on her way toward that maid she’d always dreamed of. So maybe not that cursed.

  “Okay, I’m so gonna barf if you guys keep looking at each other like that.”

  Todd smirked, patting her head like she was a dog.

  So not cool.

  She gave him the evil eye. “Not a dog, Todd. Go get me my popcorn,” she clapped her hands, “and make it a large. With butter. Momma’s got a serious hankering from some greasy fat tonight.”

  Todd saluted and winked. “Anything for you, baby?”

  Richard shrugged. “Trying to watch my carbs. Whatever you have I’ll share.” Then he sighed, a silly mopey I’m-so-incredibly-happy kind of sound and again Paz couldn’t help feeling like the third wheel.

  “I love him,” Richard whispered, quietly, like he wasn’t even really saying it to her.

  She nodded, tucking his cowlick back. “I know. Aren’t you sure you wouldn’t rather me, yanno, be home and stuff tonight? I mean, this is your one year anniversary. Why in the world would you want me here? Shouldn’t you be bow-chica-wow…”

  Richard tugged on the end of her thick black hair.

  “Hey, ouch!” Paz slapped his hand away.

  “You’re disgusting. And no. He loves you as much as I do. Besides, Madam Pandora’s awaits.”

  A cool rush brushed against Paz’s legs. She was wearing thick stockings, and had traded in the killer pumps for a more ankle friendly pair of sparkling black flats, but she probably should have grabbed a thicker jacket.

  Even with the sweater underneath, she was starting to shiver.

  She grumped. “Why do you want me to go there so bad? What is it anyway?”

  Glancing around, Paz frowned. The carnival was definitely as creepy as she’d expected it to be from the sound of the name. Diabolique made her think of the devil. Coming from a strict Catholic upbringing, anything to do with Mr. Red, Bad, and Evil still made her skin get the creepy crawlies.

  Not to mention the carnival was just strange looking. Aside from the garish striped tents, and neon lights, the rides were all black. Thick, dark black. Blending into shadow if not for the lights affixed to the rides.

  At first she’d had a mini heart attack when they’d bought their tickets, thinking maybe this night wouldn’t suck so hard after all. The man selling them behind the booth had been hot. No scratch that, he was way hotter than hot. Which sounded really lame, but how else could she describe the panty melting smile of his straight white teeth. The artfully arranged blond surfer hair, like liquid gold the way it’d gleamed beneath the light. And his face, oh man… she couldn’t paint something so pretty. High cheekbones and hard square jaw, dimples when he’d grinned.

  But then she’d looked at his eyes-- glowing green eyes-- and something inside her had shrunk away from letting him make contact when he’d handed her the change. She’d been pretty sure those hadn’t been contacts.

  And what was even weirder about this carnival was that everyone one looked just like him. Well, not just like him. But everyone working here was hot. Uber, smokin’, I’d sell my firstborn to have wild monkey sex with you kind of hot. And they all had strange glowing eyes.

  Which seemed to faze Todd and her brother not at all.

  “Hello!” Richard snapped his fingers, making her jerk. “Did you hear a word I said?”

  She grimaced. “Umm…”

  He gripped his forehead. “That’s a no. I said,” he stressed the ‘d’, “that I want you to go because Brody and Luke came here last night and they said they got their fortunes told and it came true.”

  Paz snorted. “Oh my gosh, that’s ridiculous. You do know that’s stupid, right? They’re all quacks out here.”

  He looked hurt, and then annoyed. Richard shoved his hands into his jean pockets. “You’re coming and I don’t want to hear boo about it.”

  “Boo about what?” Todd planted a peck on Richard’s cheek.

  The effect was instantaneous. Richard smiled, leaning back into Todd’s large chest.

  “Mmm, popcorn.” Paz reached with greedy fingers for the steaming brown paper sack Todd handed her. “Yummy, yummy, yummy. Love,” she plopped a warm, buttery kernel in her mouth and groaned, “love, love, popcorn.”

  Richard grabbed one out of her bag and tossed it at her nose. She swatted at it.

  “And you say I’m weird. At least I’ve never written an ode to my food before.”

  She stuck out her tongue.

  “So are we going?” Todd asked, taking a bite out of his fried Twinkie.

  White cream oozed out the side and Richard moaned. “Fried Twinkie, Todd? Cruel.”

  Todd laughed.

  Richard rolled his eyes. “My baby sister insists Madam Pandora is a quack.”

  “You know what,” Todd said, and then took another bite, Richard swallowed hard, brown eyes wide as he stared at that Twinkie like it was his lover.

  Paz knew her brother was drooling, Twinkies were his kryptonite. Todd was cruel. Which was probably why she loved him so much; he made her brother suffer. As he should.

  “I totally thought so too, but then when Luke told me what she said, you can’t fake that.”

  Wrinkling her nose, Paz nibbled on a piece of popcorn. That’d gotten her attention. “What happened?”

  Growling, Richard stole the last bite of Twinkie from Todd’s fingers and popped into his mouth with a so-there look.

  Smirking, Todd licked his lips. “She told him that he’d forgotten to pay his electric bill and that when they got home the power would be off.”

  Snorting, feeling pieces of kernel jam in her throat, Paz coughed and then chuckled, wheezing around the bits still caught in there. So lame, she’d expected maybe Madam Quack would have said they’d be struck by lightning, or their dog would be run over. Electric bill? Get serious. She wiped tears from her eyes, the ghost of a laugh still on her tongue. “Duh, she works for the power company after hours. Totally doable.”

  Richard rolled his eyes. “Paz, I came to your art show. Now you’re coming with us.”

  Shoulders slumping, she licked the buttery goodnes
s off her tongue. “Richard, seriously, that sounds so lame and I don’t want to blow ten bucks on something like that.”

  Todd and Richard shared a glance. A wordless conversation passing between them that always made her both jealous and happy. She wanted that so bad, it was a desperate yearning in the pit of her gut, the depths of her heart. But she couldn’t deny how happy it made her to know her brother now had it. He deserved it. Though she’d die before ever telling him that.

  “We’ll pay,” they said at the same time.

  One dark hand and one light hand gripped her elbows, steering her (willing or not) toward Madam Quack’s tent.

  “Ugh,” she groaned.

  Ten minutes later she was staring into the deep lavender eyes of the most gorgeous woman she’d ever seen. Midnight oil black hair, smooth alabaster skin, and the plumpest red lips that would have made even Steven Tyler green with envy.

  Add to that that Madam Quack wasn’t wearing a gold lamay turban, purple silk robe, or looking into a crystal ball. Paz felt totally out of her element-- hard to laugh at someone when they looked as sane and gorgeous as Madam Pandora did.

  The tent was low lit a dark red, casting strange undulations upon the tarp walls. Paz gripped the wooden arms of the plush, floral patterned chair she sat on.

  Pandora (because Paz refused to think of her as Madam Pandora any longer) sat in front of her, long legs crossed. Sparkling black cocktail dress draping like bats wings to either side of her. Red lips pursed and staring at Paz with an intense gleam in her strange colored eyes.

  “Your brothers want you to be happy.”

  Paz licked her lips. Didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that out, especially considering Pandora had very likely seen them drag her inside, ordering Paz to stay put or the popcorn got it.

  “But you’re successful, you made a lot of money tonight.”

  Paz narrowed her eyes.