The End of Oz (Dorothy Must Die #4)



To my Munchkins: When I started writing Dorothy I didn’t know any of you. Now you are a part of my story and my heart. Thank you for all the love you have shown Dorothy and the enormous gift you have given me. Every tweet, video, blog, piece of fan art, and kind word took me and Dorothy farther down our road than I ever dreamed. Amy and Dorothy both found friends and magic along the Road of Yellow Brick. Thanks to all of you, I did, too.

To Joanna Volpe, for being my champion and my friend. You fight the good fight and bring the magic. You make the impossible, possible. I am so glad to have you at my side.

To Pouya Shabazian, for understanding my commercial heart and finding places for me to pitch it.

To Team New Leaf: Jackie, Jaida, Mike, Kathleen, Mia, Chris, Hilary, and Danielle, you are rock stars and the wind beneath my pages! Thank you, thank you, thank you . . .

Many thanks to my fearless editors, Tara Weikum and Jocelyn Davies. Dorothy wouldn’t be here if you didn’t say yes to killing one of the most beloved characters of all time!

To Ray Shappell and Erin Fitzsimmons—for making covers so beautiful that people have to pick them up.

To Team Harper! I adore you all! You used our heart, brains, and courage to get Dorothy into the world. Margot Wood, you were one of Dorothy’s first friends (and now one of mine!), and with our brilliance, you helped build her epic squad! Hugs! Ro Romanello and Stephanie Hoover, my publicity goddesses. Thanks for taking such good care of me and making it so much fun! Elizabeth Ward, you Ozian genius, thank you for metaphorically and literally painting me a Road of Yellow Brick for all to see!

And to Kate Jackson and Suzanne Murphy, thank you for keeping Dorothy on the road.

To my family and friends, I love you and thank you for being there every time I step out of Oz and back into real life. Mommy, Daddy, Andrea, Josh, Sienna. You are my heart. Bonnie Datt, you had me at Nanette Lepore, and kept me with your generosity and kindred-spirit friendship. Annie, Chris, Fiona, and Jackson Rolland, thank you for being my beloved second family and second home at least until the zombie apocalypse.

Lauren, Logan, Jasper, and Joe Dell. Laur, from J.Crew catalog to besties, you are just as generous and amazing now as you were then. Carin Greenberg, for being my oracle. Paloma Ramirez, proud of your new journey (and miss you to pieces!). Daryn Strauss, my partner in reaching for the stars. Leslie Rider, for your razor-sharp wit chased by utter kindness.

To Sasha Alsberg, look at you all grown up! So proud of you and so glad I met you on the way to prom.

Josh Sabarra, all the advice and texts and tweets kept me going! Love you, babe!

Kami Garcia, Kass Morgan, Jennifer Armentrout, Kiera Cass, Melissa de la Cruz, Margie Stohl, and the countless other writer friends who understand and make everything better.

My Guiding Light family, Jill Lorie Hurst, Tina Sloan, Crystal Chappell, Beth Chamberlin, Alison Goodman, Jordi Vilasuso, and all the fans who still keep the light alive.

Special thanks to Crystal for rallying Team Venice. And to Sasha Mote, for being such a friend to Dorothy.

Lexi Dwyer, Lisa Tollin, Jeanne Marie Hudson, Megan Steintrager, Kristen Nelthorpe, Tom Nelthorpe, Ernesto Munoz, Mark Kennedy, Maggie Shi, Leslie Kendall Dye, Sandy and Don Goodman, Mike Wynne, Matt Wang, Seth Nagel, Kerstin Conrad, Chris Lowe, Steve McPherson, Lanie Davis, Harry and Sue Kojima, and all the other friends who know I love them but I have been on deadline for four years so you will forgive me for not thinking of you until after I sent this in.

And finally, to L. Frank Baum. I fell in love with your world when I was five. I am so honored to have gotten to borrow it for a little while.





EXCERPT FROM ORDER OF THE WICKED


READ MORE ABOUT LANADEL BEFORE SHE BECAME PRINCESS LANGWIDERE IN:





ONE


“Again!” Nox barked, and Lanadel gritted her teeth, preparing to repeat the knife stroke he’d just taught her for what felt like the hundredth time. She’d known training with the Order of the Wicked was going to be difficult, but she hadn’t realized it was going to be ridiculous. She was dripping with sweat, her dark hair clinging to her neck in damp tendrils. Back home, her brothers had always given her a hard time about her wild, untamable curls that refused to stay put in a ladylike bun. They’d teased her mercilessly, pulling the loose strands like she was—

Lanadel stopped that thought cold in its tracks. Her brothers were dead, and that was why she was here. Thinking about them now wasn’t going to bring them back. Their loss was so recent that every time her mind wandered she forgot they were gone. Forgot that she couldn’t just go home after fighting practice, punch Beech in the shoulder on her way to fight Rowan for a loaf of their mother’s fresh-baked bread . . .

Nox’s fist connected squarely with her cheek, snapping her head back and sending her reeling. “Monkey’s nuts!” she yelled, bringing her hand to her swelling cheek. “What the Ev did you do that for?”

“If we’d been on the battlefield instead of in the training caves, I’d have killed you,” Nox said coldly, his gray eyes hard. “You can’t let yourself get distracted in the middle of a fight.”

Lanadel bit down on another curse. Nox was a ruthless teacher, merciless and sometimes even cruel, but he knew what he was doing. She knew he was right. And if there was anyone in Oz more stubborn than Nox, it was her—and there was no way she was going to let him see her cry.