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Saturday, 30 July 2016



#askvarsha contest
Ask Author Varsha Dixit a question on your blog and she will answer you in her own unique way. Watch out this space for more. Only the best questions will be selected.

My Question for #askvarsha is..

If you are co-authoring a book with a debut author, what guidance will you pass on in terms of writing and marketing?

RIGHTFULLY WRONG, WRONGFULLY RIGHT
by
Varsha Dixit



Blurb

Love is in the air again…this time it’s steamy, bold and manipulative!

Gayatri and Viraj both are products of childhood trauma. Yet they were able to survive, one because of her shrewdness and the other because of his genius. Rightfully Wrong Wrongfully Right, the final part in the best selling ‘Right and Wrong’ love trilogy is the story of these two damaged souls.

Gayatri Dutta, the poster child for rich spoiled diva is fighting to escape a life of servitude her tyrant father is hell bent on pushing her into. Her past string of failures have her backed against a wall. Lonely and desperate!

Viraj is a con who uses his genius to perpetuate his isolation. His life once of violence and abuse has left him cynical and cold. He shuns the society and its hypocrisies. 

And then Gayatri and Viraj cross paths. She needs him and he despises her.

To Viraj, Gayatri, is the epitome of all that he despises, shallow, manipulative and the kind who uses her beauty as a weapon. Or is she?

Gayatri sees Viraj only as a means to an end. She is sure that Viraj with his nerdy demeanor, owlish glasses and crude behavior will be easy to manipulate and walk over. Only he isn’t!

Grab your copy @

Excerpt from #RWWR
‘I can do this, I can do this, I can...’ Gayatri wound her fingers tightly around her cellphone as she made her way to the cubbyhole Viraj called his office. I did not expect a freaking hug, but a polite ‘how are you’ wouldn’t kill that man. She rapped her knuckles on the door.
Viraj swung the door open. ‘What?’ His brows were furrowed and his lips, pursed.
Gayatri remembered what Nikhil had said to her once. Dr Viraj owns and runs this lab. He was the only one you needed to impress! ‘It’s my first day here!’ Gayatri could hear her voice shake. ‘Could you tell me...
Gayatri scuttled out of Viraj’s way as he leaned out. ‘Find an empty room, do your work there. You are free to leave any time you want. You are free to come or to not come.’ The door shut on her face.
Flabbergasted, Gayatri kept staring at the door. What just happened? She cleared her throat. I should not piss him off anymore. ‘Thank you for this…this job.’ Her voice was as uncertain as the look on her face.
Viraj tugged the door open again. Gayatri flashed a smile at him and opened her mouth to speak but he stopped her short. ‘I don’t like talking. Find a room and stay there.’ He shut the door on her again.
 Asshole! Gayatri fisted her hands and retreated. I can do this! I am doing this! Bigger picture, please! Gayatri paused and peeped inside the first lab that she stumbled upon. The place was quiet except for a low hum of machines. Gayatri pushed the doors open and walked inside the lab. It was empty. ‘Does anyone else work here besides the mad scientist?’ She leaned against one of the steel racks. The door flew open behind her. With a big grin she turned to greet the person coming in. ‘Hi! I’ she froze. It was the mad scientist with a bunch of papers in his hand.
Viraj noticed Gayatri at the same time. A familiar irritation flashed in his eyes. ‘Not this room. Not my lab! Find another room!’ He spoke with cool authority.
‘I was just looking!’ Gayatri smoothed her ponytail trying to mask her nervousness. He had her in knots.
Giving an indifferent shrug, Viraj walked past her. Gayatri got a whiff of his aftershave; it smelled clean and crisp, like water with a twist of lemon. At least he doesn’t stink like his manners! Gayatri stood there quiet and confused.
A loose paper slipped from Viraj’s hand and landed on the floor.
‘You dropped some paper!’ Gayatri said, her voice friendly.
‘Ignore it. Like you, it is not going anywhere.’ Viraj pulled a portable stool and took a seat in front of an electronic panel fixed to a bigger panel.
Gayatri gritted her teeth and grinned with the ferocity of a wild animal that could pounce any moment.
Unknown to her, Viraj gave a similar smile except his was more like the wild animal that had pounced and won.
‘I’ll go and find a room. Thank you!’ Swiveling on her heel, Gayatri headed for the door.
Something stopped herher father’s face and the realization that two weeks ago she had physically fought for herself, and now she had to fight again but with her mind instead of hands. I have to win over Mr Madness. Maybe I could wear a beaker over my head and tattoo the periodic table on my arms!
‘If you are trying to open the door telepathically, let me be the first to tell you it is not working!’ 
Gayatri exhaled noisily. Scathing and sarcastic, what more could a woman ask for? Taking a few calming breaths, she slowly pivoted to face Viraj, specifically his back as he sat hunched fiddling with the panel in front of him.
 ‘I’m sorry if I have offended you somehow. I really need this job. And also, I’m qualified for it. I can show you my degrees. I can really make a difference here.’
Hearing Gayatri’s words and her apologetic tone, something melted inside Viraj...again. But to keep up appearances, he turned rude. ‘I’m busy!’ he barked.
 ‘Please Mr Viraj, give me’ Just then, without warning, someone swung the door open. Gayatri wasn’t prepared for the push. ‘Ouch!’ She toppled. Her desperate hands grabbed the first thing in the vicinitya steel rack. The rack shuddered violently and some of its contents landed on the floor.
‘What the hell!’ Viraj bellowed jumping to his feet.
Gayatri winced. A large electrical component had crashed into her hand ‘The door just opened, pushing me in,’ she said shaking her arm in pain.
 Viraj glared at the door. He instantly lost the frown and his mouth eased at the ends. ‘Oh it’s you! Come inside!’
Huh, Hyde turns Jekyll! Gayatri spun around.
A timid, bespectacled, five-foot-nothing girl, her long hair in a tight braid, clad in a pastel-coloured salwaar kameez, stood at the door. Her skin was smooth and her hands kept tugging at the dupatta around her neck ‘Sorry to interrupt! Dr Kalra wanted to show you some tests he is about to run in lab 2.’ She then glanced at Gayatri. ‘I’m sorry if I hurt you. It was an accident.’
Gayatri was about to speak but Viraj cut her off. ‘She’s fine. Let’s go!’
Viraj went out with the girl, not even sparing a glance at Gayatri.
Astounded, Gayatri watched them leave.

Urghh…the shit-faced scientist actually smiled and that too at that girl! Gayatri kicked the steel rack. It shuddered again! Shoot! Before anything else would fall on her, Gayatri went after the scientist and the simpleton.


Did you like the excerpt? Author Varsha Dixit offers you four of her chapters free.

Read the First Four Chapters Free!!

About the author

Varsha Dixit

Varsha Dixit

Varsha Dixit, the bestselling author of four successful contemporary romance books. Her debut book, Right Fit Wrong Shoe was a national bestseller for the year 2010. Varsha was a part of the Indian Television Industry and worked as an assistant director and online editor. She considers herself a dreamer who thinks deep but writes light. Even though creativity is gender free,Varsha feels blessed and enriched to be a woman. Currently, with her family, Varsha resides in CA, USA.

You can stalk her @

                   

    


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Thursday, 21 July 2016




All he had was three things: A dragon tattoo, a black spectacle, a silver trinklet.

All she had was two things: Moustache, Checkered shirt

The music was loud and the lights were dim. The dance floor was occupied and cramped for space. 

She was sitting on the bar stool, at the bar, sipping her drink while her eyes kept scanning for two things.

He entered the pub and stood silently at one of the corners, his eyes scanning for the required details. Having a rich experience, he quickly took a glance at the bar. He found the three things for what he was looking for. With a smile, he took to the dance floor.

Convinced, he walked towards the bar at the bar stool and placed a small gun at the back of her head.

Immediately, with a swift of her right hand, she injected the vial on his right thigh before he could pull the trigger.

Moustache- Checked, Checkered Shirt- Checked

But, what was not checked was their relationship as Husband and Wife, as the assassin in her took over her soul.


This post is written for Half Marathon Blogging Challenge with Blogchatter for Day 6.

Wednesday, 20 July 2016


Source


She had left a couple of text messages and a seducing voice note for him a couple of hours earlier.

He had not replied to any of those, just like the past few times, adding to her rising suspicion of having an extra marital affair.

She paced around like a woman on a mission, possessed. 

After almost six hours since she had sent the messages, the door bell rang. The key-hole showed it is him. She gathered herself, opened the door, welcomed him and hugged him straightaway.

Ten minutes later, he laid dead, her entire being shivering from the shock.

Three reports in her hand read: Resignation Letter, Doctor’s report stating that he’s diagnosed with cancer and a Love Letter addressed to her.

This post is written for Half Marathon Blogging Challenge with Blogchatter for day 5.

Tuesday, 19 July 2016


The flight departed from Heathrow airport. Once everyone had settled in, reading, sleeping or watching movies, he quickly started working on the plan. They had to act first.

He gave a nod to his fellow partners to meet at the galley for a quick last minute briefing.

They dispersed off quickly, one towards business class, one towards the economy class and the remaining one towards the tail.

Two minutes later, right when the minute hand touched twelve, the three of them aimed at the target and pulled the trigger.

Breaking News showed the dead bodies of the terrorists killed mid air.

Two days later, the three women IAF officers were enjoying their drink at the success party of their mission.



This post is written for Half Marathon Blogging Challenge with Blogchatter for Day 4.

Monday, 18 July 2016




She occupied the front row seat, right in the center, from where things can be captured easily. Amidst exchange of cheek kissing, jealous smiles and attitude throwing celebs, she stood out as a famous fashion designer.

The lights faded off and all the focus was on the show. One by one, the models burned the floor with their stunning looks, showcasing the spring summer collection. It was time for the showstopper to showcase the design created by the front row occupant designer. The model came out with a thunderous round of applause and a couple of steps later, disaster occurred- Wardrobe Malfunction.

The designer was capturing her right from the start in her camera and left a conniving smile just when the disaster struck.

The PR machinery brought back the ‘once a star actress’ back into limelight.

This post is written for Half Marathon Blogging Challenge with Blogchatter for Day 3

Saturday, 16 July 2016


Both of them were dancing to the choreographer’s steps. Suddenly, her eyes widened which was not captured on the screen.

A thunderous roar followed the claps, as the director screamed ‘cut’.

Both continued looking into each other’s eyes as if something was brewing between them. The crew members, the director and each and everyone present of the set was in a bit of a puzzle as there was no news of the two ‘going on’ in the market.

Suddenly she pushed him a little away from her, lifted her right hand and swinged it as fast she could to land right between his legs.

He got a stinging message then and there, ‘Not to take undue advantage’.




This post is written for Half Marathon Blogging Challenge with Blogchatter for Day 2


She lit her cigarette, took quick puffs and let herself fall on the sofa while streams of anger kept rolling down her eyes.

A pool of blood lay in the middle of the room.

A loud chortle reverberated in the room as she replayed the video footage of him trying to force upon a struggling actress.

Cutting off her chortle, she roared, ‘The bastard deserved it’, as she viewed the image of his boyfriend for one last time.

Impulse
Source

This post is written for Half Marathon Blogging Challenge for Blogchatter for Day 1.