Blue Freedom Synopsis
Bella Whitman is a freelance health and fitness writer with a tragic history. When she is offered a dream opportunity to undertake a writing assignment which will take her on a journey across the South Pacific islands, she grabs it, despite her misgivings about the arrogant but handsome editor in charge of the magazine, Ethan Gray - and Jay Hinkley, the contract photographer Ethan has hired to travel with her.
Despite a rocky start, Bella finds herself being drawn to Jay as they work and travel through the islands. But can this relationship develop into more than a friendship, when he already has a woman in his life? And with a dangerous hitman trailing their every move, can Bella and Jay finish their assignment - despite the shadowy motives of their employer Ethan - and survive a deadly rendezvous with a Thai drug consortium in a nail-biting climax? Through this fast-paced adventure, Bella is able to find healing from past pain and discover emotional and spiritual freedom. |
Blue Freedom: Unedited excerpt as submitted for the Rose and Crown Novel Competition
Prologue
Somewhere in the Pacific Ocean
He never should have swum off alone.
What had at first appeared to be a shallow indentation in the coral–encrusted rock had turned out to be a cave. The diver had spent almost twenty minutes exploring the tunnel and its colourful marine life. But when he emerged, the rest of the group was gone.
Checking his diving watch again, he fought against the rising panic. Everything he had learnt in his years of scuba diving flashed through his mind. Stay calm and breathe normally. Stay in the same place and wait to be rescued. Never swim away from your diving partners.
He’d been completely stupid. But the inside of the cave was so fascinating, and he’d wanted to take a closer look so he could describe it to his fiancé. With her writer’s creative appreciation of all things unique and beautiful, she would love it.
Now, he wondered if he would ever see her again.
He’d still had some oxygen left in his tanks, but had discarded them after he surfaced. There was no sense in trying to tread water or swim with all that weight on his back. And even without it, he had little hope of reaching land, over ten kilometres away.
He would just have to swim. And pray. The alarm had surely been sounded by now. His rescuers had probably already begun the search.
He just hoped they came before the sky grew much darker, or the waves more rough…
Chapter One
Brisbane, Australia
4) The Blame Game
The final, and perhaps most damaging, form of self–sabotage is that of blaming ourselves. “We all recognise we're our own worst critic,” says psychologist Dr Sarah Green. “The problem is that external messages – such as those from media advertising, and even from family and friends – can serve to reinforce our own negative thought patterns.”
The key, according to Dr Green, is deciding to be kinder to yourself. “By making small, positive changes to the way you think and speak, it can be possible to stop negative self–blaming patterns.”
These changes could include:
● Write some positive affirmations and stick them up where you'll see them each morning (such as on your bathroom mirror).
● Learn to accept and give compliments. Instead of saying, “Oh, this old skirt!” simply say, “Thank you.” And complimenting those around you more will help them to also learn the art of encouragement.
● Put a positive spin on your thoughts. Change “I'm fat”, to “I'm learning to be healthier”. “I hate my job” can become “This work is a stepping stone to my dream career”.
Learning to change old habits and eliminate these four areas of self-sabotage can help you move on into the successful and confident future you deserve.
"There! Finally finished!"
Bella Whitman typed the last few words with a flourish, before moving her neck around in slow circles in a vain attempt to work out some of the knots. "Typing gives me cramps," she complained, lifting her arms up to the ceiling in a languorous stretch.
"Well, writing is your chosen profession," her housemate, Krista, reminded as she padded past the kitchen table to the refrigerator. "You just have to put up with the occupational hazards that go along with it," she mumbled around a bite of apple.
"You can talk," Bella retorted, leaning back in the chair, her eyes closed. She lifted up the tangled mass of her chestnut curls, allowing the air to cool her neck. "Sticking people with needles every day sounds pretty hazardous to me."
Krista reached over and playfully tugged her friend's hair. "It's called "phlebotomy", for your information. And at least it's a job with a steady income." The end of her reply faded as she walked through to the lounge room. Bella smiled. Krista was no doubt watching her favourite afternoon soap on TV. Like clockwork.
Bella sighed wearily as she began gathering up her papers strewn all across the table's surface. She enjoyed being a freelance writer – loved the freedom, the challenges, the chance to express her creativity. But the constant pressure of deadlines and lack of secure income took their toll. "What I need is a holiday," she murmured, rubbing her blurry eyes.
Her last holiday had been a couple of years ago, right before – Bella tightly squeezed her eyes shut, trying in vain to block out the memories of Andrew. His smile, those chocolate brown eyes, the way he would look at her just before they kissed.
But then he was gone, disappearing so suddenly, leaving Bella alone and crying on a Pacific island’s beach. Wondering why the men in her life were always taken from her prematurely – asking the heavens what she’d done to make God so angry.
As Bella started making dinner in an effort to distract her thoughts, she realised she was still asking those same questions even a couple of years on.
Memories swirled about her as she sliced an onion. She couldn't be sure if her tears were from the fumes or her depressing thoughts.
With a sigh, she put down the knife decisively. "I need a change," Bella announced to the kitchen walls. "They say a change is as good as a holiday – don't they?"
"Are you talking to yourself again?" Krista's head popped around the edge of the door. "Writers," she mumbled to herself, shaking her blonde head in mock frustration.
Bella ignored the comment, choosing to focus on the diced onions now frying in a pan.
"I just saw a new magazine advertised on the TV," Krista casually mentioned, sneaking a carrot slice from the cutting board. "It's called Healthy Lifestyle, and it's published right here in Brisbane."
Bella lifted her head and looked at her friend. "A new magazine? That might help.” Work had always been a source of welcome reprieve.
"Help what? And haven't you conquered enough magazines already?" Krista asked, chomping on the carrot. "Never satisfied … it must be a writer thing," she flung over her shoulder, returning to the TV.
Bella smiled to herself as she emptied some tuna into the pan. She would make some enquiries tomorrow.
Two days later
A sharp rap on the open office door interrupted Ethan Gray's busy focus. He sighed impatiently, lifting his eyes from his weekly planner to glare at the unwanted intruder. "Make it snappy!" he barked.
The usually bubbly office assistant visibly shrank before the editor's obvious irritation. "Um, we've had to reschedule October's planning meeting to this morning. Nine–thirty." She hesitated. "Is that okay with you?"
Ethan checked his planner, noting his 9:30 am appointment with a freelancer – Bella Whitman. "That shouldn't be a problem," he replied without looking up. "There's nothing here that can't be put off."
The woman turned with a relieved smile, and started to walk out through the doorway. "Susan," Ethan called, halting her in her tracks. The editor's voice was like granite, hard and brittle. "I expect to be given more than fifteen minute's notice of any future schedule changes. Understand?"
Susan stammered her assent before hurrying from the room. She almost tripped on her ridiculously high heels in her haste. Ethan smirked as he observed her discomfort. Women! They were only good for one thing. "Or maybe two…" he muttered to himself.
Somewhere in the Pacific Ocean
He never should have swum off alone.
What had at first appeared to be a shallow indentation in the coral–encrusted rock had turned out to be a cave. The diver had spent almost twenty minutes exploring the tunnel and its colourful marine life. But when he emerged, the rest of the group was gone.
Checking his diving watch again, he fought against the rising panic. Everything he had learnt in his years of scuba diving flashed through his mind. Stay calm and breathe normally. Stay in the same place and wait to be rescued. Never swim away from your diving partners.
He’d been completely stupid. But the inside of the cave was so fascinating, and he’d wanted to take a closer look so he could describe it to his fiancé. With her writer’s creative appreciation of all things unique and beautiful, she would love it.
Now, he wondered if he would ever see her again.
He’d still had some oxygen left in his tanks, but had discarded them after he surfaced. There was no sense in trying to tread water or swim with all that weight on his back. And even without it, he had little hope of reaching land, over ten kilometres away.
He would just have to swim. And pray. The alarm had surely been sounded by now. His rescuers had probably already begun the search.
He just hoped they came before the sky grew much darker, or the waves more rough…
Chapter One
Brisbane, Australia
4) The Blame Game
The final, and perhaps most damaging, form of self–sabotage is that of blaming ourselves. “We all recognise we're our own worst critic,” says psychologist Dr Sarah Green. “The problem is that external messages – such as those from media advertising, and even from family and friends – can serve to reinforce our own negative thought patterns.”
The key, according to Dr Green, is deciding to be kinder to yourself. “By making small, positive changes to the way you think and speak, it can be possible to stop negative self–blaming patterns.”
These changes could include:
● Write some positive affirmations and stick them up where you'll see them each morning (such as on your bathroom mirror).
● Learn to accept and give compliments. Instead of saying, “Oh, this old skirt!” simply say, “Thank you.” And complimenting those around you more will help them to also learn the art of encouragement.
● Put a positive spin on your thoughts. Change “I'm fat”, to “I'm learning to be healthier”. “I hate my job” can become “This work is a stepping stone to my dream career”.
Learning to change old habits and eliminate these four areas of self-sabotage can help you move on into the successful and confident future you deserve.
"There! Finally finished!"
Bella Whitman typed the last few words with a flourish, before moving her neck around in slow circles in a vain attempt to work out some of the knots. "Typing gives me cramps," she complained, lifting her arms up to the ceiling in a languorous stretch.
"Well, writing is your chosen profession," her housemate, Krista, reminded as she padded past the kitchen table to the refrigerator. "You just have to put up with the occupational hazards that go along with it," she mumbled around a bite of apple.
"You can talk," Bella retorted, leaning back in the chair, her eyes closed. She lifted up the tangled mass of her chestnut curls, allowing the air to cool her neck. "Sticking people with needles every day sounds pretty hazardous to me."
Krista reached over and playfully tugged her friend's hair. "It's called "phlebotomy", for your information. And at least it's a job with a steady income." The end of her reply faded as she walked through to the lounge room. Bella smiled. Krista was no doubt watching her favourite afternoon soap on TV. Like clockwork.
Bella sighed wearily as she began gathering up her papers strewn all across the table's surface. She enjoyed being a freelance writer – loved the freedom, the challenges, the chance to express her creativity. But the constant pressure of deadlines and lack of secure income took their toll. "What I need is a holiday," she murmured, rubbing her blurry eyes.
Her last holiday had been a couple of years ago, right before – Bella tightly squeezed her eyes shut, trying in vain to block out the memories of Andrew. His smile, those chocolate brown eyes, the way he would look at her just before they kissed.
But then he was gone, disappearing so suddenly, leaving Bella alone and crying on a Pacific island’s beach. Wondering why the men in her life were always taken from her prematurely – asking the heavens what she’d done to make God so angry.
As Bella started making dinner in an effort to distract her thoughts, she realised she was still asking those same questions even a couple of years on.
Memories swirled about her as she sliced an onion. She couldn't be sure if her tears were from the fumes or her depressing thoughts.
With a sigh, she put down the knife decisively. "I need a change," Bella announced to the kitchen walls. "They say a change is as good as a holiday – don't they?"
"Are you talking to yourself again?" Krista's head popped around the edge of the door. "Writers," she mumbled to herself, shaking her blonde head in mock frustration.
Bella ignored the comment, choosing to focus on the diced onions now frying in a pan.
"I just saw a new magazine advertised on the TV," Krista casually mentioned, sneaking a carrot slice from the cutting board. "It's called Healthy Lifestyle, and it's published right here in Brisbane."
Bella lifted her head and looked at her friend. "A new magazine? That might help.” Work had always been a source of welcome reprieve.
"Help what? And haven't you conquered enough magazines already?" Krista asked, chomping on the carrot. "Never satisfied … it must be a writer thing," she flung over her shoulder, returning to the TV.
Bella smiled to herself as she emptied some tuna into the pan. She would make some enquiries tomorrow.
Two days later
A sharp rap on the open office door interrupted Ethan Gray's busy focus. He sighed impatiently, lifting his eyes from his weekly planner to glare at the unwanted intruder. "Make it snappy!" he barked.
The usually bubbly office assistant visibly shrank before the editor's obvious irritation. "Um, we've had to reschedule October's planning meeting to this morning. Nine–thirty." She hesitated. "Is that okay with you?"
Ethan checked his planner, noting his 9:30 am appointment with a freelancer – Bella Whitman. "That shouldn't be a problem," he replied without looking up. "There's nothing here that can't be put off."
The woman turned with a relieved smile, and started to walk out through the doorway. "Susan," Ethan called, halting her in her tracks. The editor's voice was like granite, hard and brittle. "I expect to be given more than fifteen minute's notice of any future schedule changes. Understand?"
Susan stammered her assent before hurrying from the room. She almost tripped on her ridiculously high heels in her haste. Ethan smirked as he observed her discomfort. Women! They were only good for one thing. "Or maybe two…" he muttered to himself.