Dorothy Must Die (Dorothy Must Die, #1)

by Danielle Paige

She told me that, whatever anyone at school said, a trailer was where I lived, not who I was.

And then I thought: Bring it on. There’s no place like anywhere but here.

And here I was now flying for the first time in a rusty old double-wide.

I hate to break it to you, but just because someone has pretty hair and good skin tone and a crown instead of a pointy hat doesn’t mean she’s not the baddest bitch this side of the Emerald City.

For the Crime of Sass, This Monkey Is Hereby Sentenced to Official Attitude Adjustment. Do Not Tamper. By Royal Order of Princess Dorothy.

“See? That’s the spirit. We’ll make a Wicked one out of you yet, now won’t we?”

“Down is up, up is down. Good is Wicked, Wicked is Good. The times are changing. This is what Oz has come to.”

It’s always been the Good versus the Wicked. Magic can’t exist without Goodness. Goodness can’t exist without Wickedness. And Oz can’t exist without magic.”

“And I have faith in you. And now, for our first lesson. I like to think of this project as my little Get Witch Quick scheme.” She giggled at her own joke.

As I sat down, a tiered tray of pastries poofed into existence right next to the tea set. The tray was laden with inside-out sandwiches and square doughnuts and little scones with what looked like gold-leaf chips.

Beautiful was in the way that she moved and spoke. Beautiful was an action as well as a description.

I held Star close before I departed. “If I don’t come back,” I told her, “find a way to give everyone the plague.”

“There must be some mistake,” I said as I rushed toward her, my shoulder lowered. “You’re the bitch. I’m the witch.”