Tracy St. John's Blog, page 160

Shalia's Diary Monday Post

Playing by Oses' rules.  http://shaliasdiary.blogspot.com/

Phases of Fitness

In a little over a year, I’ve managed to shed over 50 pounds.  I’ve reached a level of fitness I’ve never experienced before.  It’s pretty awesome stuff.  The funny thing is, I’m only getting started. 

I hear a lot of “How did you do it?”  I think most people want to hear some miracle product was involved or that a pizza-and-chocolate diet got me in good shape.  Sorry, all.  It was nutrition and hard work.  Nothing else could put me where I am now or get me where I’m going.
For those who want the real skinny (pun intended), here’s how it happened.
A Personal History
Metabolically speaking, I had a charmed childhood and adolescence.  I burned calories without bothering.  In fact, I was underweight, not reaching 100 pounds during high school.  I ate without care and gorged on junk food.  Exercise?  Not if I could avoid it.
Had I looked closely at my parents, I would have seen the same thing.  It was when they reached their late twenties that the weight came on.  The same happened to me.  By the time I married at the age of 29, I was 135 pounds.  Entrenched in bad diet habits, I kept eating and the weight kept coming.
By the time I got pregnant 10 years later, I was up to 175 pounds.  I tipped the scale at 205 when my son was born.  I dropped the pregnancy weight plus a few pounds, dropping to 166.  Over the next 2 years, I rocketed back up to 196.  My blood pressure started to get ugly and I knew I was in trouble.

I allowed few pictures taken of me at this time.  This is the best one that showed my weight of nearly 200 pounds.  I am wearing my wedding band on my pinkie.

I took up walking three miles every other day.  I also got into kettlebell workouts.  I kept an eye on my caloric intake.  I was thrilled to get down to 150 pounds and looked forward to weighing even less.  The following picture was taken of me around that time.  
 Wedding band back on ring finger.  Still not confident enough to wear a swimsuit to the beach though.
Then I had a really awful winter during which I fought back-to-back rounds of strep throat, ear infections, and bronchitis.  I came close to pneumonia.  I spent almost two months flat on my back.  Exercise fell by the wayside.  Once I got better, I did not go back to it.  In no time I was eating crap again and not working it off.  I went up to 185 pounds and became a size 12.
The First Phase:  Couch to 5K
Just before ringing in 2013, my hubby said, “I need to take weight off.  I’m going to try this running program called Couch to 5K.  You in?”
Running?  Me?  I hadn’t run since the one-mile requirement in middle school.  Just chasing my son a few feet left me huffing and puffing.  Was he kidding?
Yet I knew from experience that when one spouse is trying to lose weight, the actions of the other spouse can make all the difference.  I wanted to be supportive, but I had the distinct feeling I wasn’t going to last long at this running thing.  Still, I said I’d try.  We set off to achieve our goal of completing a 5K in 9 weeks.
Good heavens.  I thought I’d fall over and die that first day.  The program starts with running 1 minute and then walking 90 seconds and alternating until 30 minutes are up.  It didn’t sound so bad until I was actually doing it.  I was in hell.  At the end of that first session I told Master St. J, “Let’s never do this again.”
But we did.  There was much grouching and grumbling, especially from me.  Then one of my knees blew out with only two weeks left until the goal of running 30 minutes straight was achieved.  Hubs kept running.  I settled for walking when I was able.  Two months later, I started running again.  This time I got within one week of running 30 minutes when the knee went again.  Another month of recuperating went by.
By that time I loved running.  Yes, as hard as it is to believe I am writing this, I LOVED running.  I couldn’t wait for that bad joint to get to the point where I could do it again.  When I could, I cut my running from three times to twice a week, hoping to avoid another blowout.  It worked.  Late October, I ran five kilometers.  I continue to run twice a week, and I’m now working on cutting my time down.
The Second Phase:  Fitbit
Around April of last year after seeing good results from our 5K project, Hubs was pretty gung-ho about taking off weight.  He researched and found the Fitbit.com site.  It measures progress for those who join, aided by gadgets that count steps, calories burned, and miles covered.  We both opted for the Zip device to measure our daily numbers.  The site also issued challenges to walk 10,000 steps/5 miles a day.  It tracked what we ate.  It told us when we were over our calorie budgets for our weight-loss goals.
On days I didn’t run, I made sure I walked those 5 miles.  Weight was peeling off me now at a safe, steady pace.  Fitbit also prompted us to count calories.  Master St. J was definitely not in the mood to fudge his numbers.  (Fudge!  Oh no, nevermind.)  He bought a food scale and measured everything to the gram.  He took over all the cooking because he knows what a lazy ballparking creature I tend to be.  How’s that for a perk?
The Third Phase:  Burn the Fat, Feed the Muscle
By the end of the year, Hubs had met his weight-loss goal.  I shrunk down to less than 5 pounds away from mine.  Things were looking rosy, but I began to worry.  What came next?  I’d conquered the 5K, trimmed down to a size 6, and I was soon to hit that magic number of 130 on the scales.  I know me ... once I made it to my goal, there was the danger of saying “I’m done!  Pass the wings.”  Then I’d be back where I’d started, or worse.
I started looking around for motivation.  I knew I needed to get into some strength training to be really fit.  I don’t want to look like Ah-nold the Governator by any means, but I did want to tone up.  At the tender age of 46, I had those old-lady droopy arms and a lower ab pooch from having a 9 lb, 6.6 oz child nearly 8 years ago.  I still have work to do.
Searching around led me to the book Burn the Fat, Feed the Muscle by Tom Venuto, a trainer and bodybuilding pro.  I found a lot more than just tips on bicep curls.  This was a whole fitness program that hits the four main areas of getting fit:  motivation, nutrition, cardio, and strength training.  It’s become my bible for fitness.
I’m already seeing results, though I’ve got a way to go before I hit my new goals.  That underarm flab is disappearing, as is my baby belly.  My abs, arms, and legs are actually showing definition after about a month of being on this program.  I’m wearing size 4-6, depending on the designer.  My waist is down to 29.5 inches and I’m at 24% body fat, which isn’t that bad. 
I’ve also decided train for a competitive 5K.  I’m two weeks into it and so far, so good.  I’m excited to see what happens in the next few months.

Swimsuit ready!  Now if the weather would just cooperate...


The Take Away
I’m glad Master St. J pushed me into getting started with that Couch to 5K, though I thought it was the most horrendous thing in the world for the first few weeks.  Doing just that one thing created a domino effect:  gains in that area led to trying another level of fitness, then another, and so on ... and now I feel like I qualify as a fitness junkie.  Had I done everything all at once, I think I might have given up a couple of months into training.  But adding one thing at a time did the trick.  I didn’t get overwhelmed and found myself actually motivated to push to the next level.  I’m even planning to ask for a gym membership for my birthday.  Who, me?  Hell yeah!

Weekend Wake-up Call – Netherworld III: Once Bitten Twice Dead

I sighed, my shoulders sagging with the weight of too many worries.  Dan moved close to take me in his arms, and I snuggled my face into the nook of his neck and shoulder.  His hands rubbed up and down my back for a bit.  Then they dipped lower until he was cupping my buttocks.  Then I felt something growing between us, right at crotch level.  Well, for heaven’s sake.
I pulled my head back, giving him my most ‘you’ve-got-to-be-kidding’ look despite the lovely warming my lower parts basked in.  Usually it’s me looking to get some at the drop of a hat.  “Who’s got the crazy libido now, Mr. Twice a Night?”
He treated me to a long, slow kiss.  Boy, there wasn’t a bit of my mouth his tongue didn’t glide over, and every hair on my body rose in reaction.  Dan knew what he was doing to me too, from the crooked grin he gave me when he finally took his lips from mine.  
“Well, after Tristan’s hero moment, I’m feeling a little behind in the competition.  Just campaigning for your vote.”
That took me down a couple of notches.  I didn’t go arctic on my man Dan, but he felt the chill anyway and hurried to say, “Don’t get all panicked, baby girl.  I don’t want to discuss being your one-and-only.  I don’t want to talk at all right now.”
He kissed me again to prove his point.  Okay, as long as I didn’t have to deal with a report on ‘Why You Should Choose Me Over Him’, I could handle this.  
Dan’s clothes suddenly disappeared, and I was touching 100 percent choice Grade-A beef.  Yeah, I could definitely handle this.  My clothes went bye-bye as well, and I twined all over him like a kudzu vine on a pine tree.  That man was smothered and covered in an instant.
He somehow got us to the leather sofa in the periodicals section, and the next thing you know we’re wrestling like it was a pay-per-view match.  He tried to hold me down, but I was not feeling very subbie for a change.  Dan was going to have to work for it this time.  
I thought baby oil and was slippery in an instant.  He yelled in surprise as I slid out from under him and clean off the leather while I was at it.  I landed on the hardwood floor with a thump, but I’d figured on that.  Before Dan knew what was happening, I jumped on his back and had him in a full nelson.  I’d made sure to wish away the baby oil first so he couldn’t slide out.  
We’re close in height, and my arms and legs are nearly as long as his.  The biggest difference between us is he’s got bulging working man’s muscles, and I have sleek health-club-just-for-show muscles.  We were pretty evenly matched nonetheless, because Dan was roaring with laughter at my unexpected ruse.  He couldn’t mount a defense, much less me, while he was bellowing hilarity.  I wrapped my legs around his hips and thought I had him tied up pretty good. 
“Who’s the Dominant now?” I asked, cinching my fingers together tight behind his neck.
“Brandilynn … you are … a mess, girl,” he wheezed between guffaws.
“I’ve got the upper hand, big boy.  If Tristan was here, I’d make you put on a pretty pink tutu and dance for him.”
“Oh you would, would you?”  He was still laughing, but there was a little growl in Dan’s words too.
“With matching bows in your hair.  And you’d have to call him Sir.”
With a beastly roar Dan reared up beneath me, easily breaking free of my grip on his arms and neck.  Without warning I was on my back with him on top.  He put me in a headlock.
“Who’s the Sir?” he asked as I squealed.  My face was mashed in his armpit.  Thank goodness ghosts don’t have B.O.
I responded by flinging my legs upward and wrapping them around his head.  I’m not always graceful, but I sure am flexible.  Dan yelped with surprise.
Then the big jerk cheated.  He gave up the headlock to tickle my ribs.  I shrieked with laughter and fought to get away.  He let me roll to the floor and crawl a couple of feet before snagging an ankle and hauling me back to tickle some more.  
We flailed like a couple of fools all over the floor.  You’d have thought we were ten-year-olds the way we carried on, laughing and yelling and roughhousing.  But we were naked and not children, so eventually you know what had to happen.  The tickling became fondling.  The laughter turned to moans.  The struggling changed to twining tight to each other.
For a little while it was Dan on top, his big hands pinning my wrists over my head while his hips stroked steadily, burying his cock in me over and over.  My legs wrapped around his buttocks, pulling hard to push him as far into me as he could go.
Then it was me on top, my hands braced on his lightly haired chest.  I gazed into his milk chocolate eyes as I rode slow and sensuously, taking him as if was my right.  His calloused hands gripped my breasts, warming them.  After several delicious minutes of this, I arched back.  I held my weight on my feet and hands, supporting myself on his rock hard thighs as I moved really slow.  We watched his flesh slide in and out of mine until we were both groaning with need.
Dan maneuvered us so that I was flat on my back again with him kneeling between my legs.  He pushed my thighs up and out, opening me wide.  He worked hard and fast then, his cock a battering ram to make my insides twist themselves into knots until something within me frayed.  I came screaming, my fingernails dragging red stripes down his arms.  He bellowed in response.
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Shalia's Diary Thursday Post

A date with Oses.  http://shaliasdiary.blogspot.com/

WIP Wednesday – Clan Beginnings: Clan, Honor, and Empire

            Flencik reluctantly approached the door, unsure of what he was about to face.  In five years of field visits to the training camp, he had not been threatened by anyone.  He’d not seen anything more violent than training bouts, though he knew the Nobeks fought often and bloodily.  He’d been on hand to train doctors on new equipment and once operated on a heavily sedated youth with a leg broken in three places.               The door hissed open.  An examining table was in the middle of the treatment room, with diagnostic instruments against the far wall.  There was no demon Nobek tearing the place apart.            Instead, a youngling sat on the table with a big, grizzled Nobek security guard standing over him.  The youth’s shock of black hair hung in his face, making him peer at Flencik through tangled strands.  Judging from his size, Flencik reckoned the boy to be in his mid-teens, possibly in the midst of his final growth spurt.  He had two or three inches to grow before he reached average height.            Then the trainee shook his sweaty strands back, and Flencik saw his patient was more man than kid, a Nobek nearing the end of his basic training.  The handsome features were set in the familiar feral cast of a mature Nobek, one that had more of a handle on his most vehement leanings.  He’d still be tormented by forceful hormonal shifts, but this boy – young man, rather – would no longer require supervision when out in public.  He would still be more animal than civilized in urges, but he would have the skills necessary to keep himself under control in most circumstances.            The fierce visage made the least impression on Flencik, however.  What got his attention was the swelling and blood, especially the sight of bone sticking out of the youth’s forearm.  The Imdiko’s instincts to care for this wounded creature took over, and he forgot to be afraid of angry Nobeks.  He walked in without a second thought for his safety.            The trainee’s eyes had gone very wide as he looked up at Flencik.  The doctor kept the smile that wanted to come from spreading over his face.  Everyone was always startled by his size.            The young man looked at the security guard.  “Shit.  Do I scare everyone that much that you’d send in a mountain in to sit on me?”            The elder Nobek raised an eyebrow.  “Look at his face, Breft.  That’s an Imdiko, not someone interested in trying to do you harm.”              Flencik decided to treat the youngster with respect in hopes of settling him down.  He bowed.  “Good afternoon, Nobek.  I am Dr. Flencik and I will be treating your injuries.”            The injured man scowled, but the heat in his voice faded as he answered.  “They’ll heal in time.”            Flencik motioned towards the jagged radius peeking out of his skin.  “That broken arm won’t serve you very well until then.  That’s a nasty fracture.  Even if you manage to get it back in place, it will be crooked and hard to use for the rest of your life.  I can repair it so well you’ll never know a moment’s weakness.”            The grizzled Nobek gave the younger one a severe look.  “You will submit to treatment, Breft, and that is all.”            Breft gave him a furious look, as if he wasn’t afraid of the bigger and battle-tested man despite his injuries.  “I’m old enough to walk out of here, you know.  No one has any legal standing to prevent it.”            The security officer’s grin said he was not impressed.  “No one can stop you from leaving, but your studies are not complete.  Quit now, and you’ll end up in government housing doing government-provided work like a brainless lusgo worm.  You’ll get no advanced training.  That means no rank, no clan, and no future.”            Breft snarled, the expression vehement enough that Flencik took an alarmed step back.  The trainee noticed his unease.  Immediately, his face softened and tension bled out of the smallish frame.              “I beg your pardon, Doctor.  Be assured I do not attack Imdikos.  Not even ones as big as you.”  Breft scowled again at his minder before returning his attention to Flencik.  “Fine, I’ll let you fix me.  Will that make everyone happy?”
Release tentatively set for early April.

Shalia's Diary Monday Post

Sounding the alarms.  http://shaliasdiary.blogspot.com/

Reliving the End

(Spoiler alert.  If you have not yet read Alien Conquest, be aware major plot points will be given away in the following blog.)
As I finish an editing run on the soon-to-be re-released Alien Conquest, I find myself hurting anew over certain elements of that book.  Obviously, there is Armageddon.  I did not contemplate the deaths of billions of people lightly when I wrote this book the first time.  In fact, I fought against it.   My muse is a fucking sociopath however, and there was no way Earth was not going to be annihilated at the end of the story.  For that reason alone, Alien Conquest is probably my least favorite of the Clans of Kalquor series ... not because I don’t love the characters or the story itself, but because of how it had to end.
Then there is another element that tears my heart to pieces.  When Cassidy recovers the real memory of what happened to her mother Jackie, I just want to cry.  It especially hurts thinking of how Cassidy was brainwashed into testifying against Jackie at the trial.  I keep thinking of how Cassidy’s mom must have felt to hear the daughter she saved spewing those lies.  Of course, I have no doubt she knew why Cassidy did so ... but the pain of facing that would have been incredible anyway. 
After I edited that portion of the book, I went into a funk for a few hours.  Sometimes reading or writing certain things can do that to me because I tend to live in characters’ heads.  I hope that the fact it screwed with me for a short while says that the scene is well done.  I judge other authors’ works by how emotional I get over the characters.  Granted, I am not far removed from my own work.  I always live it with my characters, so it’s hard for me to be objective when it comes to the people I create.
It amazes me how often secondary characters can pull hard at the heartstrings.  Jackie Hamilton is one.  Dramok Amgar (Alien Refuge) was another, and not just for me.  So many readers have asked what will happen to his remaining clan.  Some want a story giving them a new start and a guaranteed happy future.  I can’t say I blame them.  Amgar’s death hit me hard too ... and he barely showed up in the book!
Anyway, I’ve got one more editing/formatting pass to make with Alien Conquest before I can leave the final horror of it behind once more.  One more time to sentence a multitude of innocents to a mercifully quick but undeserved death, and one more time to break a mother and daughter’s hearts.  At least I can assure them they don’t suffer alone.  I’m with them all, every step of the way.

Weekend Wake-up Call – Alien Interludes, The Negotiation

His calloused hands were rough on her lithe body, awakening nerves she’d forgotten she possessed.  Israla moaned and writhed as Tyler’s powerful touch rasped against her, exciting every sense.  Her sex bubbled juices with enthusiasm she hadn’t felt in decades.
Tyler kissed his way up from her breasts to her mouth, flicking his tongue over her lips.  He stopped with an abruptness that made the Saucin whimper with need.  She opened her heavily lidded eyes to find him staring at her with concern.
“You’re crying,” he whispered.  “Have I hurt you?”
“Don’t stop,” she sobbed.  “It’s just so good that I’m overwhelmed.  Please, Tyler, by all you hold dear, don’t stop!”
“I won’t,” he breathed, swooping down to seize her mouth with his.  His kiss was tender while his hands remained coarse, a delightful juxtaposition to satisfy all her urges.  His fingers traced down her abdomen, racing down over the shredded dress torn to her hips, gathering the still intact skirt to bunch it at her waist.  His touch lighted on her bare sex, making Israla jerk with excitement.  Just the slight contact ignited her, making her hungry mound foam ever more enthusiastically.
Tyler circled the aperture, investigating her alien topography while his lips and tongue worked their slow way down.  He lit again on her breasts, gently suckling for a few heart-racing minutes, before continuing down her slender abdomen.  When he reached the rumpled pile of fabric at the topswell of Israla’s hips, she held her breath in anticipation.   He raised his face from her body to stare at her tiny, hairless sex.  His fingers continued their explorations there, spreading the bubbles of arousal around to wet all her nether parts.  “So small, Israla,” Tyler breathed.  “I’m afraid I’ll hurt you.”
She smiled encouragement.  He was a sizeable specimen from the looks of his straining pants, and she thrilled to think of having him inside her.  “I have enjoyed many Earthers.  You are larger than Plasian males, but if we are careful I will be fine.”
Tyler was obviously excited, but his expression remained concerned.  Israla was freshly shaken to see him put her above his needs once more.  He looked close to retreating.
“I’ve been told how wonderful my tight Plasian flesh feels to the Earther fralis,” she disclosed, her voice a husky purr.  She tilted her pelvis up in invitation.
“God, Israla, you’re killing me,” he groaned.  His face drifted down towards her eager flesh, and he inhaled.  “You smell like flowers.  I wonder if that’s how you taste?”
Israla tightened in anticipation as his mouth hovered over her.  Oh please.
His tongue crept out, the first touch tentative.  Tyler slowly drew a bit of Israla’s lubricating foam into his mouth, closing his eyes as he sampled her flavor.  Her breath caught as his smile stretched into pure pleasure.  “That’s heaven, beautiful lady,” he breathed.  “You’ll have to excuse me if I don’t come up for air for a while.”
Without further ado, Tyler bent to her sex, feasting on the bubbles that fountained from her eager body.  Israla writhed with small chirping cries at his eager feed, forcing the Earther to lay his upper arms across her waist to hold her down.  She clawed at his hair, tousling his carefully brushed locks into disarray.  For a man who’d never been with a Plasian, Tyler was wonderfully adept at lusinus.
He rubbed the silky surface of his tongue all over the outside of her orifice, licking the soft flesh clean for an instant before Israla foamed anew, giving him more to devour.  “No clit,” she heard him murmur behind the roar in her ears.
“What?” she panted.  He was so enthusiastic, it was hard to think straight.
“You have no clitoris.”  Lick.  “That’s a bit of flesh—” suck “—on Earther females—” lick “—with a lot of nerve endings—” slurp “—that make sex feel great.”  Lick.
Israla trembled violently, her whole body centered on Tyler’s mouth and tongue.  “The nerves … those are … inside me.”
“Mmmff.”  If he was trying to speak, it wasn’t intelligible.  He let her waist go to grip her thighs, spreading her wide.  The next second, his tongue dove into her.
Israla stiffened as he made contact with the first ring of pleasure just inside her sheath.  Tyler’s tongue stabbed in and out of her, dragging rhythmically against the nerves that circled her passage, yanking little cries of delight from her lips.  She shuddered from head to toe as sensation washed back and forth in the pit of her belly.
Available from Amazon, Amazon UK, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, and Smashwords

Shalia's Diary Thursday Post

Making plans with a certain Nobek.  http://shaliasdiary.blogspot.com/

WIP Wednesday – Clans of Kalquor 9: Alien Indiscretions

                Cissy was glad she wasn’t the only one feeling a bit off-balance.  She whispered, “Who would have ever guessed we’d end up related to royalty?  I am so underdressed for this.”                Tasha emitted a nervous giggle as her long-lashed hazel eyes took in Cissy’s denim trousers, black tee-shirt, and the turquoise unbuttoned button-down blouse over it.  “For you, that’s high fashion you’ve got going on.  Jessica knows you hate dressing up.  No sense pretending to be someone you’re not, Cis.”                Cissy eyed her twin.  Tasha liked pretty clothes, so she looked perfectly presentable in her wraparound dress of purple.  She’d put her dark brown waves into a tidy bun, except for the few tendrils that had artfully escaped from it.                Except for their clothing, the pair were damned near impossible to tell apart.  They’d even gained the same amount of weight during their nine-month trip from Earth to Kalquor.  Nearly starved to death before finally admitting there was no choice but to turn themselves in to their former enemies, the pair’s petite frames had made them seem more like children at first glance.  Indeed, the rescue party of Kalquorians they’d given themselves up to had taken some convincing when it came to believing the twins were actually in their early thirties.                Discovering that Cissy and Tasha were also first cousins to the Earther Empress of Kalquor had caused quite the sensation amongst the aliens.  Though supplies in those last days of evacuating the dying Earth had dwindled, the Kalquorians had made sure the women had everything they could give them.  That included copious amounts of delicious food, which the sisters had availed themselves of without restrictions.                Cissy had laughingly referred to Tasha and herself as Chub One and Chub Two for the last couple of months.  Tasha hated hearing that and constantly insisted she was going to eat less and take up an exercise regimen.  Yet the men on the transport that had brought them from Earth to Kalquor had discovered how much the pair loved chocolate ... and pizza ... and pie ... and many, many other things.  Edible gifts from those wishing to enjoy the twins’ favors had abounded.                  “Stop fretting,” Cissy told her twin as they walked the corridors of the huge Kalquorian ship that had taken nine months to get them to their destination.  “So we’re curvy gals now.  None of the Kalquorians are complaining.  In fact, I keep hearing how deliciously soft I am.”                “These men do seem to appreciate the extra cushion,” Tasha agreed.  “But I’m logging another mile before I take it easy this evening.  Those fried mozzarella balls Dramok Niot brought me this afternoon are not adding another inch to my ass!”                “Didn’t he already help you work them off?” Cissy teased.                “A lady doesn’t discuss such things.”                “A lady also doesn’t yell ‘Harder you beast’ at the top of her lungs for all the Matara section of the ship to hear.”
Tentative release set for September 2014