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How I’m Using My “Slow Time” as a Freelance Writer

Written By Yuwanda, Site Editor

In today’s post over on SeoWritingJobs.com, this site’s sister site, we discussed slow  times as a freelance writer. In that post, there are …

—>8 things you can do to get freelance writing jobs flowing in again;

—>7 things you definitely should NOT do when things get slow; and

—>A few ideas on how to use this enforced “down time” as a freelancer.

Sometimes, all you need to know is that you’re not in this alone as a freelancer (especially if you’re a newbie) — and you’re not! — to make a go of it.

Downtime Means Extra Writing Time on My Own Projects for Me

If you’re a regular reader of this blog, you know that most of the 50+ ebooks I’ve written have been in the non-fiction, how-to genre. Now, I’m working on my second fiction novel, a contemporary romance entitled 3 Weeks ’til Forever. I hope to finish it up by tomorrow, have the editing and proofing done this weekend (my editor/copy editor is on stand-by; fingers crossed!) and upload it on Monday (to this site, Amazon and Barnes & Noble).

Following is a sneak peek; the first two chapters.

Warning — This Material Is Kinda Racy!

If (not-so-over-the-top) sex is not your thing, stop reading now. It’s a bit racy, but nothing too graphic. Here goes …

Chapter 1: The First Time

He slid his hand down into the most private part of her, parting her flesh there and deftly swirling his fingers back and forth over her most sensitive part until she could barely breathe.

Janey closed her eyes and rolled her head from side to side on the crisp white pillow. How did it get this far? She knew that if she didn’t stop him now, there was no turning back. Her hand shook as she put pressure on his in an effort to push it away from her very center.

The sound of her own passion roaring in her ears told her it was a lost cause.

Was that her breath catching in her throat?

Her tongue licking at the pulse of his strong, corded neck?

Her moans escaping a heaving, sweat-soaked chest?

It had to be, as there were only the two of them engulfed in this sea of passion in this tiny, rustic cabin.

Redmond’s lips found hers, gently at first – matching the rhythm of his kiss to the stroking of his fingers between her legs. He deepened the kiss, thrusting his tongue further and further into the warm cavern of her mouth.

The hand on the most intimate part of her followed suit, thrusting deeper and deeper into her. Janey writhed against him, unable to stand the twin assaults on her mouth and her womanhood.

The last vestiges of the wall she’d built to protect herself from wanting him escaped her and she gave in to the passion, begging him to become one with her. She longed to feel the thickness of him inside her, to fulfill the promise of what his lips and hands had awakened within her.

Then he stopped – everything — the kiss, the swirling of fingers between her legs.

For a second, Janey was confused. Her doe-shaped eyes, which had been fused shut by the swell of passion, popped open. And there – before her – was Redmond. Her entire vision was filled with him.

Locked in a desire-filled stare, she took in the sheen of perspiration on his forehead, the pulse beating at the side of his temple, the moistness of his lips – and most visibly — the craving in his eyes.

It was as if this was what he wanted. He wanted her to open her eyes and see how much he wanted her – and for her to acknowledge how much she wanted him.

Holding her gaze — and without saying a word, Redmond lowered his head to take her lips once again. Softly, slowly, masterfully.

The fingers between her legs started their sensuous assault again, and he gently lowered his body to cover hers. He withdrew his hand from her center and slowly climbed on top of her, parting her legs as he continued to stare intently at her.

Janey sensed his restraint as he slowly slid his manhood into the opening of her moist womanhood. She tensed at first, unaccustomed to the size of him. He sensed her momentary discomfort and cradled the back of her head with one hand while sliding the other under her right buttock.

Whispering in his native language in her left ear, the sound of his deep, melodic voice soothed her, while he slid his length slowly and steadily into her. In and out, out and in he slid into the damp depth of her.

Janey felt her body relax and close around him, snugly pulling every inch of him deep inside her – taking everything he had to give. With his hand pressing powerfully into her buttock, she moved her hips. Up and down she strained against him, reaching for the summit she knew was there.

With her body responding so perfectly and sinuously to his, Redmond could no longer control his strokes. He drove into her again and again, taking everything she had to give – and wanting more.

The throbbing throughout her body begged for release and sensing she was near passion’s peak, Redmond drove fully into her one last time. Janey tightened around him, as he whispered in her ear and drew her tightly to him.

Although she didn’t understand a word of what he said, she knew they were words he’d never repeat to her in English. They felt too personal, too raw – too exposed.

And for all the passion their physical selves had just shared, Janey instinctively knew that there were parts of him he’d never share.

Chapter 2: The Struggle to Forget

How apropos Janey thought, that the memory of the first time they made love also shone a bright light on why their relationship would never work. Shaking her head, she pondered, “How can something be so perfect and so wrong at the same time?”

Janey had been back home in Manhattan for almost a full week. Her every waking thought was of Redmond. She found it hard to concentrate on work; her only relief from thoughts of him coming when she was on long runs – part of the training for her first triathlon, a baby one she’d decided to give a shot after years of just running marathons.

Redmond had called only twice since she came back from Sol y Besos, the tiny Caribbean island known for “sun and kisses;” hence, the name. He’d left one voice mail, which she’d listened to over and over again before deleting in a fit of anger one afternoon.

Janey, I came by your hotel later that evening on the day we came back. They told me that you’d checked out. Can you please call me? We really do need to talk.

Even though every fiber in her being wanted to reach out to him, there was something in her that just wouldn’t allow her to pick up the phone and make the call. And every day that went by without him calling again solidified that she was doing the right thing.

After all, if he really wanted to talk to her, really cared about her, he would have called more than twice since she’d been back.

Maybe he was working things out with his wife.

Maybe he was a gigolo and had met someone else.

Whatever the reason, she reminded herself that even though she was hurting now, it was better now than to have wasted a year, two or three on this relationship. And, she sought solace in the advice friends and family had given her when she’d told them about Redmond.

“He can’t do anything for you girl!” the sarcasm of her girlfriend’s expression popped before her strained eyes as she tried to edit an article one afternoon.

“Can’t you find a nice man who doesn’t have such complicated life Janey,” her aunt’s soft pleadings rang in her ears when they’d had lunch one afternoon.

“When you’re from two different cultures; that’s just asking for trouble. Stick to your own kind,” the words from her long-deceased grandmother came to her during one of her crying spells.

Everyone important to her — dead and alive – she thought sardonically, had warned her about a relationship with Redmond. And consciously, she knew they were probably right.

So why couldn’t she forget him? Why did he dominate her every waking hour?

Why could she still feel the softness of his lips on the smoothness of her forehead, his preferred spot for playful kisses?

Why could she still see with perfect clarity the whiteness of his teeth as he laughed out loud at something she said?

Why could she still feel the strength of his arms as he held her tight against the surf to receive his kiss in the warm waters of the Caribbean sea?

Why could she feel the vibration of his voice in her ear as he spoke to her softly while she lay on his chest shortly before they drifted off to sleep?

Why?

It all seemed so right.

So what made it all so wrong?

Instead of fighting the thoughts, for the first time since she’d been back, Janey decided to give herself over to them; to allow herself to fully relive the dream of what she and Redmond shared – because she knew she was going to have to find a way to accept that it could never be a reality.
###

How Do You Handle Slow Times During Your Freelance Business?

Lots of freelancers are filling in the income gap by jumping on the self-publishing bandwagon. What do you do when things are slow? Chill out? Market more? Panic? All of these — and then some? Please share in the comments section below.

Hope you’re having a great week!
Yuwanda

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P.P.S.: Want to start a successful career where you have the mobility to live and work where you please? Visit our freelance writing bookstore for a ton of opportunities (freelance writing and internet marketing) to get you started.

Posted on May 16, 2013 
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