So for those of you who read my last blog on my book, Cherry Wine, I'm going to post another couple paragraphs on here. I might just decide to do this once or twice a week.

Steve vigilantly walked up the dark steps to his apartment. The shadows that were everyday sites in his apartment seemed to be bigger and darker than usual. He tip-toed to the light switch. He flicked it as fast as he could. He was alone. Relief slowly crept over him. He was sure the girl wouldn't be around for a while. Quickly, he prepared for bed. He sunk into his bed and sighed deeply. He heard a dog bark outside; it seems the city never sleeps. Reluctantly, he closed his eyes.
He walked down what seemed to be a endless corridor. The walls were poorly painted white with splatters of bright red paint....or so he hoped it was paint. He suddenly slipped and planted his face in the waxed floors. His feet were numb with cold, but he did not know why.
He saw a door just ahead of him and limped across the hall. As he walked inside there was a huge wall with hundreds of pictures hanging on it. Curious, he trotted up to it to see whose pictures they were. His eyes widened as he looked at a picture of the terrorist. Her face was as pale as the moon and her hair as red as the sun. She was posed in a scarlet dress that reached down to the floor. She wore no jewelry except a simple necklace with a icy blue stone attached to it. As he stared at the picture, he couldn't help but notice that she was strangely attractive. There was something about this picture that he had not seen before. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes. Then he looked back and saw her blink. He gasped as her hands reached out of the picture and rested on both his shoulders. He stood; flabbergasted. Suddenly, she grabbed his neck and yanked him into the air as if he were as light as a rabbit. He struggled, but couldn't break free from her iron grip. She chuckled evilly and chanted, "Steven...Steven...Steven...Steven." This continued until she whispered in his ear, "Beware of the Tomcat."
The annoying tone of Steve's alarm filled his ears. He jolted out of his bed and fell to the floor. He looked around, What a dream. He stood up, but slipped and fell again on his bed. His feet were cold and still numb. He heard a cat meow out behind him. As he turned he saw a faint red blur, but nothing more. He turned around and rubbed his neck. It was cold too. He stood up; thinking about his dream and what it could mean. He shook off his fears and got ready for work.