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Jinn are No Laughing Matter, says Saudi Citizen Fed Up with Mockery

…and he’s absolutely right. The existence of the jinn has been acknowledged for thousands of years. They are recognized in the Koran. We may not know if they exist for certain, but the point is that we don’t know that they don’t exist. Follow? There are many things in this world that remain unexplained. Just because we don’t have the answers doesn’t mean there is no substance to the question. My recent series of books, 101 Nights, explains the existence of Jinnistan and their resident jinn as a parallel dimension separated from us by the fluctuation and cohesion of electrons and protons: disassemble matter in one spot and reassemble it in another and it may very well come together as a lithe and lovely jinni named Amani or a large and fearsome figure … that would be Sumer.

There are plenty of anecdotal examples of their existence and Mr. bin Jleid mentions some in his column in the Saudi Gazette of November 29, 2014. While I sympathize with him that some of the stories seem ridiculous, isn’t that the very point he’s railing against? Who’s to decide what seems ridiculous? Check out these examples he cites. (What do you believe?)

THE international and Arab media last week published a story and photograph of a boy who is said to be Saudi. The boy’s father had taken the photograph and on seeing it several days later, discovered a smiling and naked jinn next to his son.

“And say, ‘O my Lord! I seek refuge with thee from the suggestions of the Evil Ones. And I seek refuge with Thee O my Lord! Lest they should come near me.’” (Holy Qur’an verses 23:97-98).

Science is still incapable of detecting and monitoring jinns. Some non-Muslim scientists deny the existence of jinns. Yet, some of us claim to have successfully photographed them with digital cameras?

The way the Western media portrays Saudis’ belief in jinns is a very disturbing; something needs to be done to prevent further mockery.

It is we who are responsible for this negative media coverage because it is the local media that is obsessed with publishing sensational news stories.

The practices of some of our journalists and newspapers require stern action and those guilty of ethical breaches should be banished from the profession for good.

Users on the immensely popular micro-blogging site, Twitter, regularly post jinn stories involving Saudis. I have read stories about jinns launching fireworks in Arqah Hospital and Saudis in their hundreds storming the hospital to evict them.

Then there was the Saudi sheikh who held a dialogue with a jinn live on air, and then there was the jinn who set a Saudi man’s home on fire 10 times, something that was confirmed by the Civil Defense.

Then there was the jinn in Al-Qassim who — after being cornered by a family using verses of the Quran — said, “I want to come out. I’m fed up after three years.

I have been sent by a Sudanese magician to you!” There was also the famous group of jinns who drove empty cars around Madinah.

Stories like these have made us become the laughing stock of both the Arab and foreign media. Also, let us not forget the sense of fashion displayed by some sheikhs and judges who are allegedly possessed by jinns during office hours.

These news stories are shameful and are not something that should be reported or taken seriously in an enlightened society. Such stories do not reflect the Saudi culture.

We believe in the existence of jinns as mentioned in the Holy Qur’an and by the Prophet (peace be upon him). As for the news items that are being circulated, most are simply creating confusion.

I don’t know whether we should apologize to everyone who has read such stories or the jinns whom we have wronged.

Read the text of Mr. bin Jleid’s column in the Saudi Gazette from November 29, 2014.

And if you’re intrigued by the possibility, read my books.
Best Wishes,

What’s In Your Stocking?

The Magic Bottle_COVERIt’s the holidays. While it should be a time of warmth and love, Lola Baz knows only the regret and pain of a marriage devoid of either. But when the magic of the season arrives on the night before Christmas, also known as Saturnalia, Lola finds a gift in her stocking that can liberate her from loneliness. Read The Christmas Bottle today! Download it from Amazon or buy in other versions from Boroughs Publishing Company. On sale for 99 cents!

Merry Christmas!
Kellyann Zuzulo

12 Tales for Christmas | Boroughs Publishing Group

full-12-tales-for-christmasCheck out this wonderful anthology of romantic holiday stories …. a new generation of holiday classics, 12 of ‘em! My story is The Christmas Bottle. Get all 12 for just $2.99.


12 Tales for Christmas | Boroughs Publishing Group.

The Betrayal Begins

from Dangerous Devotion, the fourth book in the 101 Nights series of Romantisodes from Boroughs Publishing Group

Chapter Two

Amani felt strong arms hard under her breasts. For the first time in almost three months, she felt safe. But then it all came back to her and she knew. She wasn’t safe. Twisting her body, she tried to wrench free of Sumer’s grasp. Her strength was gone from her. She felt as limp as the netted eels she once pulled from the phosphor streams in the Cobalt Mountains. The memory of that place pressed solace into her mind. Her home. She could almost smell it.

With the clean scent of juniper and sun-fired rock blanketing her mind, she opened her eyes. The scent prevailed. And another aroma bloomed. It was that of the orchids in the fire forests of Jinnistan. Blinking, she looked around. Veins of lapis ribboned the wall she looked upon. It was the uneven topography of a cave wall. And growing from a moisture-slick crevice was a single lavender orchid. She inhaled. Warm spice, cardamom and pepper swam with a draft across her face. Home?

“Let me go,” she demanded, wriggling her torso against her captor.

“Not so fast, Ani. I think you’ll find that your legs won’t hold you.” Sumer turned her to face him. “So I will.” His lips, full and shining where he licked them, were slightly open as his gaze coursed over her face, down her front. She saw the glint of white teeth behind his lips, like sharp sun-bleached coral glimpsed in the water, waiting to shred flesh. She tugged the white linen shirt she wore unbuttoned over a white camisole tight against her chest. It was Jason’s shirt. She flinched when Sumer ran his hands down her back.

“Unhand me!”

“Hold still,” he muttered. “I’m checking for fractures.”

She stilled, remembering. They had traveled from one dimension to another, with nothing more than the energy of the stolen Heart of Bitu around his neck. Transmorphic migration done in tandem had been known to break the bones of a passenger.

Sumer’s hands were hot as he pressed them in a trail down the knots of her spine. His fingers were long and broad. When he reached the waistband of her black yoga pants—pulled on that morning after a wild night of lovemaking with Jason—he pushed past the elastic border. Her breath caught in her throat as he slid his fingers side to side on her bottom.

Unsummoned and unappreciated, tingles shuddered down the backs of her thighs. “I think you’re enjoying this,” she growled.

He ignored her. A first for Sumer. He never seemed to miss an opportunity to raise her ire. When his hand spanned the hard ridge of her hip, she winced. A bolt of pain dizzied her. Her forehead fell forward against his shoulder. She felt disembodied, vaguely aware that for a millisecond Sumer’s touch grew gentle.

“Ani.” Sumer’s voice was a plea. There was a tone of concern she’d never heard from him. “Ani.” His arms swept under her legs and he carried her to a corner of the cave. A cushion of white camel fur cradled her when he set her down. He crouched next to her, seeming uncomfortable with seeing her so vulnerable. They had been lovers and adversaries. But she had never been at his mercy. She couldn’t help but think that had Jason been here, he would smooth the hair back from her face. Patience and concern would light his features like a beacon. Sumer simply seemed puzzled.

“Move your legs.” Sumer’s voice was stern.

Amani’s brow furrowed.

“I think your pelvis is fractured.”

She was suddenly aware that she had to concentrate on moving her legs. Pain shot down her left side. Sumer pressed two fingers against her left hip and an azure glow radiated from the touch into her body. Tension buzzed across her midsection.

“Move your legs,” he repeated.

Slowly, she stretched one long limb alongside Sumer’s bent thigh. Needles of pain shot up her legs from the soles of her feet.

“There,” she said, triumphant.

“Now the other one.”

His tone was so intent that she didn’t question. She straightened the second leg. Sumer ran his hand along one of her thighs to the knee and then did the same on her other leg, massaging as he went. Without lifting his hand, he shifted his body so that he crouched between her legs. The firm pulse of his fingers felt good against her stiff muscles. She sighed.

Sumer’s eyes flashed briefly with something like amusement. “Good. Bend them at the knees.”

She did as commanded, pleased with her body’s response. Sumer had risked her health but also his own when he dragged her from New Jersey. The jinn were expected to travel solo. There was precious little energy left in Jinnistan. Their safe arrival was a testament to Sumer’s unusual molecular strength. Amani shook her head. No time to dwell on how well endowed—biologically or otherwise—Sumer was.

Sumer hovered on his knees in front of her, between her legs. She was suddenly aware of his large hands gripping the soft flesh of her inner thighs. His voice husky, he said, “Now, wrap those remarkable legs around my waist and I’ll show you how to generate some energy.”

Kicking one leg free of him, she cursed. “Damn you, Sumer. Move away from me now or I swear I will—”

“Will what?” Sumer’s gaze narrowed and he leaned in. “You’re as weak as a foal. Not even fit to ride.” She could smell his skin. It was the smell of cinders and green reeds. Violence and promise. But a promise of what?

“Back off.” She pushed against his chest and drew herself to a sitting position. He sat back on one bent leg, a thick forearm draped across his knee as he continued to watch her. His skin was as tight and smooth over his muscles as polished granite. She dropped her gaze. Water trickled somewhere behind her as though an underground spring ran through the floor of an unseen passage. The catacombs of the Cobalts. They were, indeed, in a cave beneath the fire forests.

After his insurrection against the ruling Tribal Council at the Silver Citadel, Sumer had absconded to the mountains with his army of loyal Marid jinn, the warrior class, the fiercest of the jinn. “Happy to see me?”

She glanced up at him. His black eyes assessed her. One fine eyebrow arched sardonically.

“You stole my stone.” She swiped again at the glimmering green gem around his neck, but he twitched back and out of reach.

He laughed. “You buried it in the dirt.”

“I was trying to remove it as a resource for you. Since you had already interrupted my mission—”

“Don’t you mean sweet moon?” Sumer’s top lip curled in disgust.

“Honeymoon,” Amani corrected. She remembered the intrusion of Sumer, appearing to her in the kitchen of Jason’s home on a chill April morning, not long after she had committed herself to work with the humans to find a remedy for her nation’s fading power. At any cost. Even at the cost of her pride, her freedom, and her body.

Uncle Azon had discovered that the integration of jinni and human auras generated electrical energy that fed the proton cycles within Jinnistan. Cycles that were desperately needed to keep Jinnistan alive. A scourge of inexplicable energy shortages had stripped Jinnistan of its reserves and of many of its citizens. Amani’s parents had been among the first to die. A type of fear—an emotion that was virtually unknown to the jinn—gripped her world. No longer could the jinn alter their molecules to travel with the wind through space and time.

Transmorphic migration had been outlawed. Marid jinn, ifrit, and ghul castes alike were encouraged to leave their homes across the broad expanse of Jinnistan’s Bitu Valley, Cobalt Mountains, and lava plains to gather at the Silver Citadel. These were the warrior caste, the ruling caste, and the farmers and crafts jinn. The protonic scourge did not discriminate.

While Azon Zarin imagined an alliance with humans to help create a generator to renew Jinnistan’s resources, Sumer Rafsi envisioned conquest. His claim that the humans were not to be trusted and that what nuclear power they had should be taken forcibly was the more aggressive option. The burden of deciding which route would rescue her doomed homeland had fallen to Amani.

“I think you were removing it as a resource for yourself.” His chin dropped and his tone grew more grave. “You know that my plan would be the quickest way to save our homeland. Don’t you?” Those black eyes were so intent upon her that Amani could see why other Marid jinn trembled in his presence. But not her. Never her. She would die before she would show fear. Before she would allow him to think that there was the slightest chance she would align herself to him.

“Why did you come, Sumer?”

“You were taking too long.” He pounced to his feet and stretched his arms over his head. The tattoos that marked his as Marid wound around his triceps like barbed wire.  Lowering his arms, he tore open his light blue cotton shirt. Buttons scattered on the cave floor with little pearlized clicks. He dropped it in a heap. He spat on it.

“I stink of human!” His black gaze settled on her face. Rolling back the massive mounds of his shoulders—the Heart of Bitu glittering between the shelves of his pectorals—he said, “And so do you.”

Amani pushed up on the cave floor and struggled to her feet. “You have to take me back there, Sumer.”

His grunt became laughter that echoed down the dark corridors of the cave. “Do you command me, Ambassador?”

Straightening to her full height, Amani cranked her neck from left to right and inhaled. “I do.”

Sumer’s jaw tensed. “You like to say that, don’t you?” He mocked her tone. “I do. How easy it was for you to marry a human. I told you from the beginning that it wasn’t necessary. It was just another way that we allow the humans to control us. We could have taken what we needed. I have the army and the means to trespass in their world.”

“What you sought to do, Sumer, would have meant the deaths of thousands, and the enslavement of millions. Even if we wanted to, we don’t have the energy to take the human world.”

“Your Uncle Azon did. He found the portal directly into one of their energy generators and could easily have navigated the power of their reactors into our world. Instead, he sought alliances with men like Jason Masters and that vermin, Warren Westcott who runs Covalink as though it were his empire. He was a fool.”

There was determination and vengeance in Sumer’s voice. “We are the jinn, Amani. We have been free and conscious beings since before those creatures of dirt hauled themselves from the primordial effluent.”

Fisting his hands at his sides, he took first one step and then another toward her. It seemed that fury gripped him. A struggle was apparent in the creases around his onyx eyes. “I tell myself that you didn’t know you were betraying us. But it is hard to believe, Amani. Hard to believe when you lay with one of them. When you call them ‘friends.’”

Amani blinked. “What are you talking about, Sumer? You’ve known all along about the treaty. About my role as an emissary to work with the human scientist. Approaching it this way offers a quick solution and a long-term plan for the rejuvenation of Jinnistan, without any loss of life.”

She moved close enough to touch him, laying her fingers gently on his forearm. His gaze was troubled. She had known him long enough to know that he was not being idly cavalier. Something had happened.

He stared down at her. His broad, rugged face was without emotion, but his gaze probed her, assessing, judging. “Then you have been betrayed, too.”

A slim coil of dread wormed its way from her stomach to her throat. She could only whisper. “Tell me what’s happened, Sumer.”

His words were so simply stated that she didn’t comprehend at first.

“They’ve taken Persha.”

Dangerous Devotion_101nights

Download your copy of Dangerous Devotion today

Point of View—What IS It? How to Find the Perfect Voice for YOUR Story


If you’re a writer, start taking notice of who’s telling the story in the books you read. It’ll help you establish the voice in your own writing. Read Kristen Lamb’s explanation of Point of View…

Originally posted on Kristen Lamb's Blog:

Monday, we talked about the Three Acts of a Writer’s Journey. The first hint we might be tipping into The Apprentice Phase is we hear the word P.O.V. and panic. What is THAT? Prisoners of Vietnam? Pets of Vegans? Pals of Viagra?

We ALL know writing a novel is FAR from easy. We just make it look that way ;) .

Today, I’m putting on my editor’s hat. Many of you decided to become writers because you love to write. Duh. I’ll even bet most of you, back when you were in school, also made very good grades in English. Thus, you might assume that you naturally know how to write a novel that is fit for successful publication.

Maybe you do. But, if you are anything like me when I started out? You might not know as much as you think you do.


Our high school English…

View original 1,964 more words

Angels Are Hot in YA Fiction

YA column art_nov-dec2014Don’t be so sure that belief has taken a back seat in our 21st-century increasingly secular society … especially among our youth. Young adults are reading about angels in increasing numbers. Okay, so maybe they’re not the glowy angels we see hovering over the K-Mart creche at Christmas time. These angels are brooding, shadowy, and sometimes conflicted about their place in the world. But so are our teens. It’s a perfect match; perhaps a comfortably classic way for the reader to find understanding in books. So, bring ‘em on. My list of ten new books about angels in 2014 that showed up in the YA market are reviewed in my Forever Young YA column for BTS eMag.

And angels be with you,

Meet the Lovers Who Live in My Books

Tag. I’m it! Thanks to Paula Millhouse for inviting me to be a part of this blog hop. Paula writes captivating romance with dragons and fairies.They’re fiery ;) Visit her website here.

electric stormI’d like to introduce you to the main character of my romantic suspense series for Boroughs Publishing Group. 101 Nights is made up of five Romantisodes (you do the math) that follow the journey of Amani Zarin. She’s a warrior and a diplomat from Jinnistan who suddenly finds herself thrust into a New Jersey suburb, scrabbling to solve the puzzle of her nation’s waning energy and newly married to a human. Yick! That is, until the honeymoon. Here’s how I hop:

Amani is a fictional character, though I know many Jersey girls who are as audacious as she is.

The story is set in today’s world, in a swanky suburb not far from New York City. The story begins in late February and continues for–you guessed it–101 Nights.

Amani is tough and sassy and thinks she has no room in her life for love. She won’t even download Tinder.

The main conflict is that while she will do anything to save her people, she resents having to subject herself to scientist Jason Masters’ data collection. Contact between a genie and a human sends electromagnetic readings soaring; her contact with Jason sends those readings into hyperdrive. That data can be captured and used to harness electricity for Jinnistan. The more data the better. But the more Amani finds herself in Jason’s arms, the more her resistance to love is breaking down.

Amani’s personal goal is to contribute to the construction of a transformer that can generate the electricity needed to power her world. And it’s not just about the lights, their atmosphere is dissolving.

There are five books in the Romantisodes and all are published by Boroughs Publishing Group. The first is To Have and To Hold, followed by Reluctant Rapture, Ties That Bind, Dangerous Devotion, and Ever Afters (releasing this fall). All books are available in various digital formats, including Kindle, Nook, Smashwords, and Kobo.

Best Wishes,

Next One Coming

There are genies on the horizon.

There are genies on the horizon.

As I mentioned earlier, I finished the book and turned it in to my editor on Monday. What next? Will the book appear like magic on your bookshelf? Well… no. This is the fourth book in the 101 Nights series of Romantisodes that I am writing for Boroughs Publishing Group. The title is Dangerous Devotion. It’s a climactic story because the fifth and final book is next. But before that happens, I will get edits back on DD, polish the story, and send it off again. The book will be designed and proofread, given an ISBN number and submitted to the online bookstores. THEN, you will be able to pick up a copy. I’ll let you know when that is.

Thanks for reading!

Summertime and the Livin’ is … Intense!

Be as watchful as the coyote, and good things will come...

Be as watchful as the coyote, and good things will come…

As I’m sure all of you can relate… it’s been a busy summer! In June, I was picked up by Word|Link Literary Agency. They say they “would love to” represent my novel GNAW (a thriller about a genetically altered coyote set loose in a Long Island town. Get your rabies shot!). And after much searching for the right agent (and, yes, many rejections, but also several acceptances that just didn’t feel right), I would love them to represent me. So, what do we do in America? We sign contracts. I am officially signed with Word|Link and look forward to a prosperous and fulfilling relationship with the great folks at Word|Link who care about stories and good writing.

I’ve also been working as a book editor for a really stellar publisher in Boston called SDP Publishing Solutions. If you’re a first-time author with a book and know that your story deserves to be told (and whose doesn’t?), get it out there yourself. And I just may be the editor who helps you bring it to bestseller quality. Check in with publisher Lisa Akoury-Ross and ask for me. ;)

summer on peconic bayJust this past Monday, I gave MY editor at Boroughs Publishing Group the fourth book in my 101 Nights series. It’s called Dangerous Devotion and I think it’s the best one yet. But don’t take my word for it. Please check for yourself: Start with the first book in the series, To Have and To Hold. You can get it on Kindle, Nook, Smashwords, Kobe, or iBooks. Follow that with Reluctant Rapture and Ties That BindDangerous Devotion will be out soon. Stay tuned to this site for more info. The jinn are here … all you have to do is look around.

These things didn’t all happen in a summer. I’ve worked hard for years to study language and writing, read-read-read, write the books, stay sharp in my craft. It’s paying off. The tag line: Hang in there! I would love to hear what you’ve been up to this summer.

Best Wishes,


Bestseller on Sale for .99 …Honors Earth Day

Earth-in-HandsAll Romance eBooks has books on sale for 50% off the cover price. This is a great deal to honor Earth Day. Meanwhile, I thought this was a wonderful idea because ebooks–and especially ebooks on sale–mean NO DEAD TREES. So, I figured I’d post my books, which are also on sale, just as a public service. ;) In doing so, I discovered that a couple of my books are BESTSELLERS at All Romance eBooks bookstore!  How exciting is that? As exciting as a genie on a shag carpet that really flies.

Check out the sale! And pick up your copy of the BESTSELLER To Have and To Hold, the book that starts the 101 Nights series. …And save a tree.

Best Wishes,


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