Multicultural Blog-A-Thon Presents Falguni Kothari

Hello! I want to start by thanking Yolanda for this opportunity to guest blog on her blog-a-thon about love and romance the multicultural way. I strongly believe that love is a universal language even if different cultures express it in individual ways. To show you what I mean, Dear Readers, I’ve selected an excerpt from my just-released Harlequin Mills and Boon romance.  

BOOTIE AND THE BEAST by Falguni Kothari  

        Beauty Mathur: Flirting with the Fairytale. The bold, black caption was scrawled across Diya Mathur’s burlap-clad hips gracing the cover of last month’s Pomp Adore India. The tattoo of a red rosebud teased upwards over her left hip, inking a path to the limpid oval of her bellybutton that apparently had the power to send men into fits of irrepressible psychosis. A year ago, an online tabloid had made Diya’s bellybutton infamous by citing that world famous men—movie stars, princes, sheikhs, Fortune 500 list-makers and the like—fought to sip champagne from it.            

Krish Menon stared at the glossy image of Diya’s navel for a deliberately prolonged moment and snorted when it failed to induce in him any kind of flight of fancy. Admittedly, he wasn’t a movie star or a sheikh or a prince or a tycoon. That must be it, he mused, and the fact that Diya was a bud and not a babe might have something to do with it too. Plus, if he jogged his memory hard enough he could almost visualize the ugly, knotty umbilicus it had once been. Diya was the first baby he had been allowed to hold all by his five-year-old self. Diya’s parents, good friends and neighbors to his own parents, had trusted him not to drop her on her perfectly round 33-centimeter head. He hadn’t. Not two months later, his own sister, Alisha, had been born and by then he had been a veteran baby handler.           

  Krish drew his eyes up from the fantasy button to Diya’s fabulously toned, religiously worked-out abs. Above the abs, her perfect handfuls of breasts—a different tabloid had run that story and yes, the writer’s completely arbitrary form of measuring had irritated Krish to no end. It still did. Anyway, Diya’s “handfuls” were flimsily covered in a swatch of burlap, artfully peeking through her explosion of black hair that spilled over peaches and cream skin. Smoky black eyes stared out from a fresh and healthy face and nude, rosebud lips parted slightly, showcasing the tips of her twin rows of white teeth that were poised to take a bite out of the big red apple that she cupped in her right hand. The picture merged innocence with the sensual, as if Snow White had been superimposed on the biblical Eve.       

       Krish flipped the widely read and respected fashion magazine open to the dog-eared center where the main article ran. Cinderella laughed out of the page fortified by a mountain of shoes. On the adjacent page, Belle coyly offered a blood red rose to a starry-eyed Beast. The theme of the article was bang on target for its model. Diya’s head forever wallowed in the clouds. She skipped through life dressed in designer clothes, smiling and waving at the world with a pair of rose-tinted sunglasses perched on a slightly stubby nose. Even the cute imperfection of her nose did nothing to skew Diya Mathur’s fairytale take on existence. Would the rumor that had gone viral across the media change that status quo?      

       Krish rolled the magazine close with a few deft twists of his hands and stashed it into the dark-grey glove compartment of the Range Rover as a private jet made a smooth landing on the far end of Dallas Executive Airport. It started sailing down the airstrip, towards the open hangar in front of which he was parked. He watched the white and grey plane with a capital JES written on its tail in—what was that color? Red? Pink? He shook his head, gaze riveted, as the plane rolled to a stop a few dozen feet away from the Rover.        

     No, not a mere fairytale, he amended, Diya’s life played like a Cannes Film Festival these days, complete with palatial villas, race cars, jets, yachts and glamour-red carpets to strut on.

 About the author:

 A Mumbaikar at heart, Falguni Kothari lives in New York with her family and a sweet as chocolate Maltese named Truffles. She loathes cooking and flying and holds a fervent hope that teleportation become a viable travel option within her lifetime.

When she is not playing Domestic Goddess, Soccer Mom or Canine Companion, she is found embroiled in some or other scandal—sorry, creating stories—on her ever-faithful laptop. She loves tales of all kinds and is partial to sassy ones with happy-ever-after endings. She’s the author of It’s Your Move, Wordfreak! and Scrabbulous Impressions, a short story. She lurks about a whole smorgasbord of Social Media daily and lives to engage with her readers. Tweet her @F2tweet or find out more at www.falgunikothari.com  

Blurb: It’s Your Move, Wordfreak!

its-your-move-press

Wordfreak and Worddiva hit it off right from their first online Scrabble game. Playing game after game every night leads to fun and flirty online chats and a cerebral attraction so powerful that it sizzles and burns the broadband connection between them. The Scrabble crazy duo cultivate the perfect relationship—a virtual one. A bond where the past doesn’t matter and neither do their names. A bond fused by cheesy words and raucous laughs. But their simple and uncomplicated connection is shaken when Alisha Menon, parental-divorce survivor and successful divorce lawyer meets Aryan “Save-the-Planet” Chawla on a blind date. As reality intrudes on their online idyll, the rules of the game change forever. Soon, the two realize that some words cannot be taken lightly. Can the real Wordfreak and Worddiva spell love in capital letters or is the game of life a deal-breaker for them?

 Blurb: Bootie and the Beast.

(bootie-beast-press

Opposites attract!

Diya Mathur (aka Beauty), celebrated supermodel and Party Princess of India, is adored by everyone. She works hard, plays hard, and has the biggest shoe fetish on the planet! But after she purchases one baby bootie, Diya’s reputation is in ruins! There’s only one place to escape the rumors—Texas, under the protection of her life-long friend, and secret love, Krish Menon (aka the Beast). Financial whizz-kid, CFO and entrepreneur, Krish is a brooding workaholic with a charisma that still brings Beauty Mathur to her knees! He has no idea, of course. They’ve shared a bond since childhood—a special friendship that thrives on sparring, teasing and goading—but with Diya back in his life and under his roof Krish finds his latent desire for her explodes. And when he finally admits to the secret that has never allowed him to commit to any woman—especially Diya—everything changes. Krish might finally realise how much he wants his Beauty—but he won’t get her until Diya has finally tamed her Beast!

 LINK to BUY THE BOOKS: http://www.falgunikothari.com/books.php

 Question for the Giveaway:

 Opposites may attract but once the infatuation wears off can they truly get past their differences to have a Happily Ever After? Answer the question with anecdotes and/or opinions. The best answer (picked by ME within 48 hours) will win a signed copy of either one of my books—winner’s choice.  Thanks for reading! Have a lovely day J  

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4 thoughts on “Multicultural Blog-A-Thon Presents Falguni Kothari

  1. I think opposites can last together after the intial ‘newness’ wears off. You just appreciate what you do have in common, and be happy pursuing your own interests without the other sometimes. My own life is a perfect example. Me and my significant other are almost total opposites. He’s outdoorsy and a risk taker. I’m happiest surrounded by my books and research, and I revel in my routine. We were unofficially voted by all our friends as least likely to last. Well we’re about to celebrate 19 years together this year. Oh, and just about every single one of those ‘made for each other’ couples from back then are no longer together 😉

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  2. When I meet my husband of now, 30 years we were not each others type at all. I, in my youth went for the typical hockey player type ( insert football or rugby…it didn’t matter) which is terrible boyfriend material, I loved what is now referred to as ‘classic rock’. Motley Crue was a particular favourite of mine. I did my best to look like Lady Diana Spencer, which doesn’t rather go with the hair band look I do admit. I was not looking past the next weekend and was living the dream of every university student; I lived at the other end of the country and far away from my parents. Freedom was mine. I was/am a social butterfly and loved to dance, get out and meet new people. My husband is five years older. When we met he had just purchased his first restaurant. He being a chef, was the ultimate wine and foodie. My cheese palate was cheddar. He listened to classical music and nothing else. He did not own a tv and didn’t know one thing about hockey. His idea of a great date was to go to the piano bar at the Vancouver Fairmont Hotel and eat smoked salmon canapes, drink some Verve Cliquot and listen to ‘civilized’ music, not dance the night away or go to a concert. I met him on a ordinary day, in the restaurant, he came down the stairs from the second level, struck out his hand and said “Hi, I’m Philippe”. I remember thinking ‘ wow I could listen to him all day with that voice’. Our first kiss sealed the deal. Fast forward 30 years and we are still opposites in some ways. I still make him laugh and he still keeps me grounded. He still feeds me food that I have never had and I still make him listen to the Crue…. loud in the car. Our love has lasted because we surprise each other all the time, our diversity in tastes brings new experiences we can share. That… and the simple fact that if one of us falls out of love, the other reminds why we did.

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