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Overview
After seven years of slogging through film roles too embarrassing to mention, twenty-eight-year-old struggling L.A. actress Raveena Rai has finally been offered a lead! A potentially career-making turn in a major Hollywood epic, perhaps? A meaty part in a serious drama with Oscar® written all over it? Not! To Raveena's great dismay (and her mother's delight) she's flying off to India to star in a new Bollywood extravaganza.
Oh well, a lead is a lead, after all. Never mind that it's a million humid degrees in Bombay, the Los Angeles of the East; that she has to live with a wacko distant uncle who sleeps under furniture and is the most stressed-out wannabe swami on the continent; that her director is a lecherous hack and his movie has the potential of being the very worst flick ever made anywhere! At least Raveena's leading man is the supremely sexy Siddharth, Bollywood's biggest star. But while their on-screen chemistry is electric-hot, off-screen the arrogant hunk treats her with total disdain ... or, worse still, ignores her. Raveena's one consolation is that things couldn't possibly get any worse.
Oh yeah? Want to bet? Lights, camera, action!
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9780061978883 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | HarperCollins |
| Publication date: | 10/06/2009 |
| Sold by: | HARPERCOLLINS |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 240 |
| Sales rank: | 474,984 |
| File size: | 499 KB |
About the Author
Sonia Singh lives in Orange County, California, with her cat Kali Mata. When not writing books, she dances in front of the mirror in imitation of a belly-baring Bollywood babe.
Read an Excerpt
Bollywood ConfidentialChapter One
Six months earlier ...Raveena was seriously getting tired of her agent.
He ushered her into his Wilshire Boulevard office and into a black art deco chair shaped like a swan, which was definitely designed without the input of any self-respecting chiropractor. Sure enough, the moment she sat down shefelt her back begin to spasm.
Griffin smiled. "I'm so sorry I haven't returned your calls.In between snorkeling in the Caribbean and yachting in theMediterranean, I haven't had a moment to sit down."
Raveena had spent the holidays pouring half a bottle ofbrandy into her eggnog.
She felt a wave of depression wash over her.
Raveena wasn't normally a depressed person. She alwaystried to see the bright side of things. Sometimes it took aday or even a decade to see the silver lining, but at least shekept on trying.
Therapy helped.
Denial helped more.
Because it seemed the "LA" thing to do, Raveena hadmade an appointment with a well-known psychiatrist inMalibu. Unfortunately, the good doctor hadn't appreciatedit when halfway through their session Raveena tentativelyraised her hand and said, "Instead of talking, could we getto the prescribing?"
Basically, as if the month of January weren't gloomyenough, her acting career — to put it politely — was in theproverbial shit hole.
Griffin smiled again, and this time the effect nearlyblinded her. Raveena knew she had good teeth — everyonein the Rai family did — but next to Griffin her pearly whiteslooked positively saffron.
Across from her, Griffin leaned back in his black leatherchair, ran hisfingers through his perfectly tousled red hair,and proceeded to wax eloquent about the fabulous role shesimply had to try out for. "It's a career-making role,Raveena," he said.
It was always a career-making role.
As if she expected him to present her with a career-obliteratingoffer.
Griffin Bish had been Raveena's agent for seven years,ever since she'd moved to Los Angeles at the tender age oftwenty-one. Some people may not have considered themove a big deal since she'd grown up just forty-five minutesaway in Newport Beach. After all, it wasn't like she wassome fresh-faced farm girl from Iowa hopping the bus inDes Moines, coming to LAwi th her dreams in her jeanspocket.
Or was it?
Orange County and Los Angeles may be neighbors, butthey're worlds apart. On the surface, the two locations seemsimilar, like a glass of water and a glass of vodka, but thenyou take a sip . . .
Speaking of vodka, she thought longingly of the Stolistashed in her freezer.
"Raveena, the role is to die for," Griffin insisted.
Her left butt cheek had grown numb and she shifted.
"You'll play one of two slave girls assigned to the emperor,"he added. They want someone ethnic-looking. It'snot a speaking part — "
She sighed. "Naturally."
"But you'll be able to do a lot of emoting with your eyes."
Right.
Seven years in Hollywood and she'd played a gypsy girl,a belly dancer, a Mexican cocktail waitress ...
And those were the roles worth mentioning.
To be fair, it wasn't really Griffin's fault. Despite the successof films like Monsoon Wedding and Bend It Like Beckhamin the west, Hollywood wasn't exactly teeming with rolesfor women of Indian origin.
Make that East Indian origin.
Thanks to geographically challenged Columbus, Raveenahad once been sent on a casting call where the producerswere looking for an Indian woman. Upon arriving,she'd discovered that by Indian they meant Pocahontas, notParvati.
Anyway, in Raveena's expert opinion, her golden coloringshould afford her a variety of roles. After all, she'd been mistakenfor women of Hispanic, Arabic and Southern Italianorigin. The problem was the number of available Hispanic, Arabic, Southern Italian and East Indian roles combinedcould fit in the tear duct of her right eye.
Besides, there were enough Hispanic and Italian actressesout there to fill their respective parts. Raveena knewthe likelihood of a casting agent selecting her, when SalmaHayek and Jennifer Lopez were ready and willing, wasabout as likely as a foreign-born action star becoming governorof California.
Oh wait ...
Taking a deep breath, Raveena forcibly gulped down herpride. "When's the audition?"
Griffin flashed another blinding smile.
This was Hollywood, remember?
Bollywood Confidential. Copyright © by Sonia Singh. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.