INTO A WICKED WORLD (A ROMANCE IN OZ #1) BY JORDAN RILEY SWAN – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Jordan Riley Swan
- Language: English
- Genre: fantasy romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 5 MB
- Price: Free
DOROTHY
Present day
Kansas
Dorothy Gale of San Francisco, by way of Wichita, was a woman of
many talents: adventurer extraordinaire, beloved daughter of selfless
parents, sometime cliff-diver on the treacherous rocky bluffs of
Madagascar, occasional Formula 1 racecar driver in Monaco, one-time
elephant polo player for the under-18 USA team.
And longtime volunteer at the local animal shelters, where she held the
title for getting every dog and all of the cats, save one—a one-eared, oneeyed, razor-clawed, habitual biter by the name of Cranky Earl, and for good
reason—adopted in a single, record-breaking week.
A brunette with two sensible braids, weaved tight for her next
adventure, and possessed of coffee-dark eyes, inherited from her dear, sweet
papa—recently deceased—she was the second most beautiful lady in the
state of Kansas. Why not the first? She was far too humble for bragging.
That was just the way she’d been raised by her adoring mama, all her
twenty-four years on this earth.
Now, some might have seen her adventuring and called her reckless, but
Dorothy knew better; she had no death wish, but rather a safety net, spun by
the weight and power of her parents’ boundless love. A relationship so selfsacrificing and generous, certainly not transactional at all. Not one bit.
At least, that was how Dorothy’s autobiography would have started if it
wasn’t a pack of bald-faced lies.
There were one or two truth cards in the deck, though. She did volunteer
at Roscoe’s Animal Shelter and Exotic Pet Hospital whenever she could.
And Cranky Earl was a real cat that would never be adopted, as his
personality was too close to Roscoe’s own. Especially when he had to deal
with idiots who fed their furry—or scaly—companion something that
anyone with a lick of common sense would never have given them. But that
was the end of the similarities in her make-believe autobiography.
And to be frank, Dorothy might occasionally admit to the good-looking
part… she was her mother’s daughter after all. Although, second best in the
Sunflower State was pushing it; she’d crack the top ten thousand on a really
good day, though.
Was that her mother’s vanity or just self-confidence?
She hoped it was confidence, but she had to keep an eye out for the
possibility that she was starting to flirt too closely with narcissism. The last
thing she wanted was to actually end up like her mother, who was at that
moment sitting across from her at Auntie Em’s enamel-top breakfast table,
holding her hands daintily in her lap, and her back away from the vinyl
chair lest she get a stain on her clothes or stickiness on her flawless hands.
Absurd, considering the spotlessness of the kitchen around her.
“Dotty, darling, be reasonable,” her mother said.
Dorothy hated the childish nickname her mother refused to drop, which
in turn was likely the reason her mother refused to drop it. “I am being
reasonable. You’re the one who isn’t.”
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