All right, I'm going to try my hand at FANFICTION.... It'll prolly be super bad, and just tell me so if you think so. It's an imprint story placed in a different time period. So far, I only have Chapter 1 through 3 and half of 4 done, and the characters include:

Anastasia Iovona: 17

Seth Clearwater (Team Seth.... just because): 18

Vampire (This guy is sooo totally random...): 361 (A totally random ass number)

Sam Uley: 23

Emily: 22 (I feel in this time period, most of the time the women were at least a year younger than their husband/fiancee/beau) ANYWAY!!!

STEALING ASHEL-13's WORDS!! (ps. I need a title!!! HELP!! AND I love Ashel-13's work, I admire how well written it is!)

ON WITH IT!

Chapter 1

I walked along the street, packages in my hand. The weather had decided to conspire against me, and so, it had begun to rain. The rain soaked through my hat, and slowly through my packages and dress. I tried to pick up the pace, however, the wind would pick up everytime I tried. It was getting dark and I knew I should have called my father to help me home. This was horrible. A hurricane must be on it's way. My hat flew off, taking hair and pins with it. I cried out in pain, almost dropping the things in my arms. Why had my mother made me go to the tailor's, the bakery, and the grocer's? A final blast of wind took the packages and threw me to the ground.

Suddenly, a man was before me. Tall, statuesque, and not overly scary. However, I couldn't bring myself to talk to him, even to just ask for help. I was frightened. I scrambled around, trying to pick up all the packages. He came closer, walking so calmly while the wind gusted around him. I regretted not calling my father, or one of our servants to come with me. Finally, he reached me. I felt like a small vole, caught in the stare and dance of a king cobra. He smiled, and grabbed my hat, and the remaining packages, putting them into a neat pile about five feet away from me, and came to stand between me, and the way to home, safety.

"You shouldn't wander out so late without an escort. A woman of such social standing should know that. I know your name. Your name is Anastasia, your grandparents came from Russia, fleeing the overthrown government." He was scaring me. How did he know all that? "You really should have been more careful." He cocked his head to the side, "It's too bad you'll never learn that lesson." His smile got wider, showing most of his teeth. He was at my side almost instantaneously. He grabbed my hand and cut my palm with his nail. Blood dripped down my arm. I gasped.

Then, out of nowhere, a large, sandy yellow wolf came from the alley. I scooted backwards, trying to keep distance between the wolf, the man and me. The wolf looked at me, and from what I could take from its eyes, there was a softness, or a tenderness. It wheeled itself around towards the man. The man chuckled.

"Are you really going to hurt me? You're nothing but a child." I thought he had said this to me, but when I looked up again, he was staring at the wolf. I whimpered, frightened that the wolf would finally realize I was the weaker prey. It stayed on its course, still advancing upon the man. I pressed my head into my skirts, curling into a ball as I heard screeching sounds, then the smell of smoke. I looked up, and saw only a man. However, it wasn't the man that caught me in his stare. It was a tanner man, larger somehow, very muscular. He had a pair of ripped trousers, and a shirt with the sleeves rolled up. I saw him throw something into the fire the smoke originated from. The smoke had a very incense-like smell, very sweet. It was also very thick. I pressed my sleeve into my nose and mouth. I started to cough, and look for my packages. That made the man look up.

"You are hurt." His voice was husky, and warm. It sounded like honey and the forest. It was not a question, but rather a statement. I didn't trust my voice quite yet, so I nodded.

"Where are you hurt?" I had started to smell the blood, and it made me woozy. I held up my hand, took one look at its mangled state, and passed out into his arms.

So? How'd I do? I probably did horrible! Lol.... My friends say I doubt myself too much, but it's true! I'm not one tenth of half the writers, or drawers, or dancers, or singers, or players I know. And yet, I try. Sigh. It sucks to be kinda multi-talented, but bad at half of them. ANYWAY! Please, please, review. You'll be my first review not from my friends. (le gasp!)

3Shanamanin