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DORIANNA
Catherine Stine
Contemporary/Paranormal Teen Romance
Released October 24, 2014
Internet followers, beauty, power. It all sounded good. Until
it transformed into a terrifying reality Dorianna couldn’t stop.
it transformed into a terrifying reality Dorianna couldn’t stop.
When her father is jailed, her mother ships Dorianna to her
aunt’s house. Dorianna yearns to build a new identity, but the popular Lacey
bullies her—mostly for getting attention from her ex, Ander.
aunt’s house. Dorianna yearns to build a new identity, but the popular Lacey
bullies her—mostly for getting attention from her ex, Ander.
Ander takes Dorianna to Coney Island where Wilson, a
videographer, creates a stunning compilation of her. She dreams of being an
online sensation, tired of being plain and lonely, and vows she’d give anything
to go viral. Wilson claims he’s the Prince of Darkness and offers her the
beauty and fame she’s dreamed of—warning her that a pledge has its downsides. Dorianna
has no idea of how dire those consequences might be.
videographer, creates a stunning compilation of her. She dreams of being an
online sensation, tired of being plain and lonely, and vows she’d give anything
to go viral. Wilson claims he’s the Prince of Darkness and offers her the
beauty and fame she’s dreamed of—warning her that a pledge has its downsides. Dorianna
has no idea of how dire those consequences might be.
Buy links: Evernight Teen Amazon
Excerpt:
On the way to my new school, I catch a glimpse of my face
in a shop mirror. Even though I hate mirrors, I force myself to look. No one
needs to remind me I’m plain.
in a shop mirror. Even though I hate mirrors, I force myself to look. No one
needs to remind me I’m plain.
Leaning forward, I examine my pale skin with its tracery
of blue underneath. It looks like granny spider veins. And I never smile all
the way. That would expose my wonky teeth—one front tooth slightly over the
other.
of blue underneath. It looks like granny spider veins. And I never smile all
the way. That would expose my wonky teeth—one front tooth slightly over the
other.
My hair’s limp, but it’s auburn with peachy highlights.
I’ve got that going for me, at least. Lifting up a lock, I admire its warm glow
in the September sun. And there’s still a hint of eagerness in my eyes––they
haven’t knocked that out of me. It’s hope, whispering, “Maybe this place will
be different. Maybe they won’t walk past me as if I’m floating dust.”
I’ve got that going for me, at least. Lifting up a lock, I admire its warm glow
in the September sun. And there’s still a hint of eagerness in my eyes––they
haven’t knocked that out of me. It’s hope, whispering, “Maybe this place will
be different. Maybe they won’t walk past me as if I’m floating dust.”
I’ve been here in Brooklyn for four days, shuffled away
from family chaos to my Aunt Carol’s house. She’s nice so far, but I don’t
really know her. It’s too bad we could never afford to fly east for family
reunions. I do know she’s a fundraiser for a public radio station, and owns one
floor in a brownstone. And that she eats vegetarian, and neatly folds the
nubbly throws on her earth-tone Pottery Barn couch.
from family chaos to my Aunt Carol’s house. She’s nice so far, but I don’t
really know her. It’s too bad we could never afford to fly east for family
reunions. I do know she’s a fundraiser for a public radio station, and owns one
floor in a brownstone. And that she eats vegetarian, and neatly folds the
nubbly throws on her earth-tone Pottery Barn couch.
And she’s the sister of my screw-up father.
I’m not sorry I left Wabash. School there was a train
wreck. It got so lonely, watching the reigning couples kissing their way down
the halls. I wanted someone’s arms around me, too, or at least another good
friend after Jen. But it wasn’t meant to be, after gossip spread that my father
was sent to jail for committing moral turpitude. My mom took to her bed, and I
took over. We were struck with loss and horror and shock all at once. Mom
needed me last spring. I tried to help in any way I could, until she insisted
that I needed a total break from the family. Or was it Mom who needed the
break?
wreck. It got so lonely, watching the reigning couples kissing their way down
the halls. I wanted someone’s arms around me, too, or at least another good
friend after Jen. But it wasn’t meant to be, after gossip spread that my father
was sent to jail for committing moral turpitude. My mom took to her bed, and I
took over. We were struck with loss and horror and shock all at once. Mom
needed me last spring. I tried to help in any way I could, until she insisted
that I needed a total break from the family. Or was it Mom who needed the
break?
I’m going to suck it up. I am. If she needs
the break, she can have it. Maybe I need one, too. I’m determined to pump
myself up to face a different army of kids.
the break, she can have it. Maybe I need one, too. I’m determined to pump
myself up to face a different army of kids.
Ambling down Montague Street, past the cute boutiques, I
soak in the balmy September sun and survey my new stomping grounds. These
Brooklyn streets are as delicious as strawberry shortcake. The narrow shops are
a wonder of necklaces, handmade with glass bits and bottle tops, and leafy
bracelets fashioned from green computer chips.
soak in the balmy September sun and survey my new stomping grounds. These
Brooklyn streets are as delicious as strawberry shortcake. The narrow shops are
a wonder of necklaces, handmade with glass bits and bottle tops, and leafy
bracelets fashioned from green computer chips.
The caffeine-laced scents wafting from the cyber café draw
me in. As I walk by, I sneak looks at the lean, fox-quick boys with scruffy
hair, low-slung belts, and tees that read Neon Pandas and Oubliettes
of Onyx. Bands I’ve never heard of, since out in Hoosier Land they mostly
play country music.
me in. As I walk by, I sneak looks at the lean, fox-quick boys with scruffy
hair, low-slung belts, and tees that read Neon Pandas and Oubliettes
of Onyx. Bands I’ve never heard of, since out in Hoosier Land they mostly
play country music.
I smile, picturing myself talking to a slinky boy who
makes me my very own playlist—he’d call it Songs for a Brooklyn Beauty. A
girl can dream, right?
makes me my very own playlist—he’d call it Songs for a Brooklyn Beauty. A
girl can dream, right?
Turning down Court Street, a woman breezes past me in a
black jumpsuit. Another dramatic beauty in thigh-high boots floats by, with two
dachshunds tugging against their pink leashes. As I glance back at her, I
imagine her working as a Broadway actress, dancing across a stage in those
fancy boots.
black jumpsuit. Another dramatic beauty in thigh-high boots floats by, with two
dachshunds tugging against their pink leashes. As I glance back at her, I
imagine her working as a Broadway actress, dancing across a stage in those
fancy boots.
Just then, one of her dogs works free of her grasp, and
streaks into the street. “Hey!” I call. “Hey, pup!” I dash after it, grab the
pink leather strap, and coax it back toward the curb as a bakery van careens
around the corner, the driver pounding on his horn.
streaks into the street. “Hey!” I call. “Hey, pup!” I dash after it, grab the
pink leather strap, and coax it back toward the curb as a bakery van careens
around the corner, the driver pounding on his horn.
The booted lady runs over to me. “Thanks so much!” she
says, breathless.
says, breathless.
“Happy to help. Couldn’t let your sweet dog be hit.” Our
eyes meet as I hand her the leash, and her smile touches me. I watch for
another moment as she walks demurely on.
eyes meet as I hand her the leash, and her smile touches me. I watch for
another moment as she walks demurely on.
Everything here vibrates with possibility, if I block out
my dread of school. It’s my chance to figure out who I want to be, which I
couldn’t quite do back home. I can’t wait to let my old, stale-kernel life rot
on the vine, and start over.
my dread of school. It’s my chance to figure out who I want to be, which I
couldn’t quite do back home. I can’t wait to let my old, stale-kernel life rot
on the vine, and start over.
Reading the sign on a red colonial stone building, I sway
with sudden trepidation: School. Ivy sprints up its scholarly walls, and its
walkway is marked with marble planters. Each one bursts with purple
chrysanthemums, as if this is the cheeriest high school ever. I’m here, no
turning back. Look, you’re smart, I tell myself, you tested in and
even got a scholarship here. Maybe private school kids are easier on new
students. Unlikely, but I’ll give it my best.
with sudden trepidation: School. Ivy sprints up its scholarly walls, and its
walkway is marked with marble planters. Each one bursts with purple
chrysanthemums, as if this is the cheeriest high school ever. I’m here, no
turning back. Look, you’re smart, I tell myself, you tested in and
even got a scholarship here. Maybe private school kids are easier on new
students. Unlikely, but I’ll give it my best.
Author Bio:
15.00
Catherine
Stine’s YA novels span the range from science fiction to dark fantasy to modern
horror. Her futuristic thriller, Fireseed One was a finalist in YA and SF in
the USA News International Book Awards and an Indie Reader Approved notable.
Its companion novel, Ruby’s Fire was a finalist in the Next Generation Indie
Awards. She also writes new adult fiction as Kitsy Clare, and her Art of Love
series (Model Position and Private Internship) is about Sienna’s artistic
perils in NYC. Her YA paranormal, Dorianna is her new YA horror from Evernight
Teen. Catherine’s love of dark fantasy came from her father reading Edgar Allen
Poe to her when she was a child. She was also addicted to science fiction as a
teen. The freakier the better! She teaches workshops in writing speculative
fiction and is a member of RWA, SFWA and SCBWI.
Stine’s YA novels span the range from science fiction to dark fantasy to modern
horror. Her futuristic thriller, Fireseed One was a finalist in YA and SF in
the USA News International Book Awards and an Indie Reader Approved notable.
Its companion novel, Ruby’s Fire was a finalist in the Next Generation Indie
Awards. She also writes new adult fiction as Kitsy Clare, and her Art of Love
series (Model Position and Private Internship) is about Sienna’s artistic
perils in NYC. Her YA paranormal, Dorianna is her new YA horror from Evernight
Teen. Catherine’s love of dark fantasy came from her father reading Edgar Allen
Poe to her when she was a child. She was also addicted to science fiction as a
teen. The freakier the better! She teaches workshops in writing speculative
fiction and is a member of RWA, SFWA and SCBWI.
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Media links:
Subscribe to Catherine’s
newsletter:
http://catherinestine.us6.list-manage.com/subscribe?u=1fe566b1e53f7d3e95b7443e4&id=93554d599e
newsletter:
http://catherinestine.us6.list-manage.com/subscribe?u=1fe566b1e53f7d3e95b7443e4&id=93554d599e
Twitter: https://twitter.com/crossoverwriter
Pinterest:
http://www.pinterest.com/kitsy84557/
http://www.pinterest.com/kitsy84557/
Website: http://catherinestine.com
Amazon author page:
http://www.amazon.com/Catherine-Stine/e/B001H9TXJC/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1412807948&sr=8-1
http://www.amazon.com/Catherine-Stine/e/B001H9TXJC/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1412807948&sr=8-1
Giveaway
Ebook of
DORIANNA
DORIANNA
Signed paperback
of DORIANNA
of DORIANNA
V-neck
Dorianna Playing with Fire T-shirt(L fitted)
Dorianna Playing with Fire T-shirt(L fitted)
~up to
25-page manuscript evaluation from Catherine
25-page manuscript evaluation from Catherine
On any YA or
NA novel in progress ~
NA novel in progress ~
$25 Amazon
Gift Card
Gift Card
Words, Words, Words 
the book sounds great 🙂
GOOD LUCK WITH YOUR BOOK AND THANKS FOR THE GIVEAWAY!
Can I say I honestly don’t know WHY I love horror/paranormal? As long as I v=can remember, I have always been drawn to the darker side of things-ghosts, vampires, serial killers, demons…I know, its weird, but I was like this even as a kid.
The book looks really interesting!
I am an huge horror/PNR fan! I just love reading about new worlds and mythical beings!
The cover it’s beautiful!