I like what you wrote so far, Tracy - it got my attention. I see nothing wrong with the style or grammar (and you KNOW I'd pick you up on that :-)

Has blood a coppery smell? I think I've read that description before. Strange when it's made from iron, eh - unless she was a Vulcan :-)

I'm not so sure about the waterfall analogy though - I couldn't visualise it. Strikes me that if it was so cold blood flow would have been restricted - even frozen.

BTW, will you be My mystery LOVER? :-)

>Wow you are brave! You amaze me. I never would have been brave enough to post anything I've written. As we discussed once, I piddle around with writing too. I'm a mystery LOVER so you can guess what genre I write about :o) I really enjoyed what you posted so PLEASE POST MORE. :o) As a show of support and faith in your writing, I will do the unthinkable and post the first page of my latest ramblings as well (at least maybe you will get a good laugh):
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>God it was cold. She felt it deep in her bones. An involuntary shiver worked its way down her back and continued on until it settled somewhere near her toes. She stamped her boots for warmth even though she knew it would probably do no good. Her cheeks red and stiff, she pulled the hood of her parka tighter in a vain attempt to keep the wind at bay. She couldn’t remember a winter this cold in North Carolina. She couldn’t remember being this cold, ever.
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>“Looks like she put up a fight.” Detective Annibal Pedersen stated dryly, appearing unmoved by the grisly scene in front of her, when she was anything but. She wrinkled her nose. The coppery smell drifted all around and seemed to permeate everything in its reach.
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>Dillon stepped back as if to distance himself from the sight before him and glanced at Annie, reading the sadness in her eyes. “Not that it did much good.” Was all he said.
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>She was young and pretty. At least she had been once. Long, golden blonde hair, now coated in blood, cascaded over her shoulders like a waterfall, almost blending into her camel coat and looking as though it flowed on to the earth around her. Her eyes once soft and warm, were now wide open in terror. A thin red line of blood trickled down her chin, her mouth round and wide open as if a scream was about to emerge. She couldn’t scream now. Did she scream then?
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>I played around with a bunch of different methods. I spent hours and hours trying to get the grammar right (following an outline) only to lose the drift or main point in the process or to just lose my train of thought. When a thought hits, you have to get it down quick. The last writer I met with suggested NOT to do that, but rather to JUST WRITE. Get the story out and in the clean up phase, go back and fix the spelling and grammar and who is speaking, check the flow, etc. I decided to go that route in the latest attempt. We'll see if it makes the story any better or not. I know one thing for sure, the grammar will be worse (as you can see above :o)
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>By the way, I really liked the first two sentences of your 2nd paragraph.