Tracy St. John Blogs On And On And On...

Welcome to my blog where I yap about my writing, my life, sex, sin and so on. Sunday's Serving, WIP Wednesday, Weekend Wake Up Call, random musings on Saturday...yep, just try to get me to shut up. Not gonna happen.

Wednesday, February 10, 2016

WIP Wednesday – Portals to Risnar: Book 1


                Kren and Arga drew up short, close enough to reach out and touch. However, they made no move to make contact. Instead Kren trained a light beam at it, bringing bright illumination to spotlight the thing they’d caught. They stared at something they’d never seen before.
                It had a humanoid appearance, similar to themselves. The being’s one-colored peach skin was apparently soft as it was covered in scratches. Kren supposed the small injuries had come about from the strange animal’s flight through the dense woods. Had it no armor? Except for the triangle of pelt over its genital area and the mid-back length of its hair, it showed no signs of protective covering at all.
                His gaze kept going to that fuzzy vee between her thighs when it wasn’t arrested by her rounded breasts with the fascinating pink points. He’d never seen the creature’s like, but the signs declared she wasn’t the only one.
                Arga voiced the same thoughts. “It is ready to nurse. Where is its offspring?”
                Risnarish women only displayed breasts when they were in the nursing stage of motherhood. This female was similar enough to Kren’s people that he had to assume she had given birth fairly recently. The full breasts, a newborn’s font of nutrition, had no other reason to be present.
                He muttered, “Good question. It looks like it’s in season as well.”
                Kren swallowed hard. Through the kinky curls of the Tysu’s light-colored pelt, he could plainly see the cleft of a female sex. It was just like that of the women he had bred with. Did this thing have a mate nearby along with a baby?
                So many questions for this strange, cringing being. A sense of pity washed over him for the obvious fear in her strange blue eyes ... eyes with round pupils. How was it possible that something obviously not Risnarish could possess so many similarities to his species?
                Underlying Kren’s confusion was the idea that the funny-looking female was pretty in a dainty, exotic fashion. Fine-boned, too delicate, too defenseless when compared to the hardy creatures of his planet ... but compelling with her heart-shaped face, wide sky-blue eyes, and blatantly female exhibition.
                Kren didn’t like that he found her interesting beyond curiosity’s natural call. He didn’t like that he felt compelled to touch her unstriped skin or that full flowing mane that looked soft as the linens covering his bed at home. By the Universal Soul, what was wrong with him?

Release date not set.

Friday, February 5, 2016

Weekend Wake-up Call – The Font





“You know what I want,” he whispered against her lips, and with a shiver Naya bent her legs up and out, capturing her knees to open herself to him.

Before accepting her offering Elisha bit into her breast, suckling blood as a babe might its mother’s milk.  He didn’t take much, just enough to make Naya squirm with the erotic thrill of him feeding on her.  Then he did the same with her other breast, and she moaned.  He moaned back and smiled at her, his silken tongue working to catch the scarlet trails seeping from the punctures.

“So that’s what it feels like,” he said.  He’d never been bitten by a lover before and had no idea how erotically thrilling it could be.  Their linked minds were teaching them both so much.

His attentions moved down, and Elisha’s fingertips brushed her nether lips.  Naya shuddered all over as heat suffused her body.  

“Hold very still for me, my love,” he commanded her.  “I wish to know how it feels for you, where you are most sensitive.”

“Yes, Elisha,” she whimpered, though she ached to somehow overpower him, to throw him back on the bed and claim his eager manhood with her body.

He chuckled, his natural dominance surging as she acknowledged her inability to make him do as she wished.  “Poor Naya.  Is it so terrible to be subject to my whims?”

Knowing just what his whims were and how he would wield his gentle tyranny made Naya laugh back.  “No, it’s not.  But it would be nice for you to get a taste of your own medicine!”

“But I will.  I will feel every second of your sweet anguish as I torment you.  I will suffer as you do.”

Naya sighed and closed her eyes in surrender.  “Do as you will, then.”

For the next half hour, perhaps longer – it felt like it went on for an eternity – Elisha tortured her with fingers, mouth, and tongue.  Her softest flesh was awash in juices as she made herself perfectly motionless for his minute explorations.  And he left nothing untouched, learning from her open mind how the rim of her outer lips trembled when his fingers traced their outline, how his tongue on her inner lips made her gush with more honey, how his tongue stabbing into her opening made everything inside clench tight.  Even her anus was gently evaluated, and both gasped with the shock of sensation his exploration prompted.

Available through Amazon, Amazon UK, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Smashwords and All Romance.  Also in print.

Wednesday, February 3, 2016

WIP Wednesday – Unnamed New Sci-Fi Series


                Arga halted next to him. Without looking at him, Kren knew the edges of his friend’s pointed ears grew more cuplike as his had, seeking to capture any sound. In a whisper so low it might have been an errant breeze, Arga asked, “Something?”
                His voice just as low, Kren said, “Listen. The nightflyers are silent. Something has spooked them. Whatever is out there, it’s nearby.”
                His skin automatically armored, answering the instinct for protection. Malleable flesh was now as rock hard as a hiser’s hide, protecting all vulnerable organs from harm. Laser shot or projectile bursts could penetrate armored Risnarish skin, but blunt trauma and even puncture wounds were deflected. If Kren was about to encounter a wild animal, he was well protected.
                Arga’s striped skin rippled as he too armored. He took a deep breath and his eyes widened. “I smell something. Not overwhelmingly awful, but not pleasant either.”
                Kren caught a whiff of it as well. The smell was sour, a little like tog milk that had been left out in the sun. He exchanged at look with his partner. The recent rash of Tysu sightings often included reports of smelling something strange. This certainly qualified.
                He nodded to Arga. They went off the path, following the scent through less densely packed foliage. Certainly something could have moved through the area with little problem. He could still make out patches of underbrush here and there in the remaining light from the huge planet hanging in the night sky. As Kren noted broken twigs and disturbed needles from the surrounding trees, he felt sure something had passed through.
                Yes, the sour odor was strengthening, growing bright in Kren’s nostrils. His mane stoodup straight on his neck and spine. His hand sprouted a couple of extra fingers as he grabbed the stunner wand on his belt. Had it been the telltale oily scent of a drone or the dry husk smell of a Monsudan, he would have armed himself with his spray shooter. This was no known enemy however. Probably some animal, sick or infected.
                Arga had his wand out too, firmly gripping the telescoping rod with six fingers and a thumb. “That stink—” he started to whisper.
                He was interrupted by a high-pitched cry, something that sounded similar to a small child’s wail. A shrub a few steps away shivered – and a bipedal creature burst out from behind it.
                Kren had the impression of pale flesh and long, whipping hair. Absurdly slender arms and legs flailed as the creature ran deeper into the woods, crashing through the underbrush as it went. The abrupt appearance of so bizarre an animal stopped him and Arga in their tracks.
                Arga yelled in his shock. “Shit! Did you see that?”
                Kren didn’t answer. His momentary shock flew from him and he plunged into the woods after the Tysu. He heard Arga’s thunderous tread behind him and the creature’s wild flight in front. The two men raced after the off-putting smell and noise of the being crashing through the underbrush.

Release date not set.

Sunday, January 31, 2016

Last Day To Get Netherworld I: Drop Dead Sexy for 99 Cents



Don't miss out! Netherworld I: Drop Dead Sexy goes back to its regular price tomorrow. Pick up your copy at Amazon, Amazon UK, Barnes & Noble, Smashwords, and All Romance.


Be sure to check out the whole Netherworld series, including the newest installment, Netherworld IV: Animal Attraction.






Friday, January 29, 2016

Netherworld IV: Animal Attraction Now On Sale!






For ghost Brandilynn Payson, there is no such thing as resting in peace. Trapped in a vampire’s body during the night much to the horror of those surrounding her ... particularly her former sweetheart Tristan ... she struggles to cope with an afterlife that keeps getting more complicated.



Even with her one true love Dan and werepanther Gerald helping her, Brandilynn struggles to find her way. As she deals with a body that desires more than just blood, Brandilynn must also come to terms with her former lovers triangle and the new unwanted one that has come about. Plus she must now face a member of her family who cast her aside.



Worse still, the town’s shifter population is disappearing without a trace. As if her afterlife isn’t crazy enough with personal failure and heartbreak, an unspeakable threat menaces Brandilynn’s friends and family.



Being a vampire is tough. Keeping those she loves alive is even tougher.



Contains elements of BDSM. 

Dan flipped my short pleated skirt up to reveal my cotton-clad rump. “Spread your legs. Wider. Wider.” He gave one thigh a smart whack with the thick paddle when I proved reluctant to obey.

I yelped and set my legs far apart, wincing at the throb of pain. I shivered to think of the punishment I was about to receive. It was going to hurt so good.

I closed my hands into fists as Dan pulled my panties down. I knew he saw it all: my butt with cheeks parted and my pussy already wet and swelling with excitement. I felt the familiar exciting helplessness curl tight in my sex. There is nothing better than being utterly vulnerable to the man I love and trust with all of my being.

His hand settled in the small of my back. No principal ever warms a wayward student’s rear for a paddling so it hurts less. I would get all the agony I could ask for. Maybe more.

“How many, Sir?” I asked, delicious fear joining the jumble in my belly.

“As many as I think will put you right,” came the noncommittal answer. “Stay still and take your punishment.”

I swear I heard that block of wood whistle in the air as it swung at my unprotected fanny. The contact between it and the fleshiest part of my butt sounded like a gunshot. Pain exploded and I shrieked. If I jumped an inch, I jumped a mile. Good glory, that hurt!

The pain still radiated from his strike when the next one fell. It caught me slightly above where the first had landed. I howled and tears welled in my eyes.

Another heavy swat, the lowest part of my butt. Another, this one catching upper thighs. I jerked and jumped and kicked helplessly as Dan held me down and delivered my paddling. I yelled wordless cries of pain and pummeled the table with my fists. My butt crackled with fiery torment.

I often used pain play to take me out of my head where worry enjoyed roosting far too much. The immediacy of discipline meant no dwelling on the world’s ugliness or my own shortcomings. Though I had little to be concerned with these days, it still felt good to be totally in the here and now. I had nothing to worry over except accepting Dan’s dominance and doing all I could to please him.

What more could a sub want out of life ... or afterlife?

Even as I danced under his powerful strokes with the paddle and sobbed with hurt of blistering buttocks and thighs, I sank into peace. A part of me floated free, happy to be with the man I loved, serving his needs and him alone. The soft sensation of euphoria transmuted the punishment, turning pain into an intensity that throbbed in my pussy. The tone of my cries changed with the shift, becoming throaty moans of sharp pleasure. 

Dan heard me and said, “That’s it, little girl. Learn your lesson. Time to be good now.”

I arched my back, offering myself for more discipline. Bliss throbbed in time with the rise and fall of the paddle. Each strike was a benediction, a redemption. 

I heard the music. Deathsong, Arthur had called it. I thought it was more like the song of true life. Of love. There was nothing morbid in that sweet, swelling tone that made me feel so close to home ... wherever that might be.

I felt myself reaching towards it. At that moment the paddling stopped. The music went away, leaving me gasping on the table.

“Are you going to be a good girl now?” Dan asked me.

I blinked, coming back to myself. Wow, I’d really taken off into subspace that time. I still felt floaty and serene, albeit a little disappointed to have lost that precious music.

In a slow, drugged voice I said, “I’ll be good, Sir.”

“We’ll see. Now, let me think about how much detention you deserve.”

I slid to the floor, my legs feeling like jelly. I landed on my rear and a quick throb of pain brought me back to our scene and the part I was supposed to be playing. Naughty school girl wanting to avoid more trouble with her sexy principal. Oh yeah.

I reached for Dan’s ankle, gazing up with imploring eyes as I groveled at his feet. “Please Sir, don’t make me do detention. I’ll do anything you want. Anything.”

So I was no actress and I delivered cheesy lines. Hey, as long as my master was happy, that’s all that counted. Judging from the bulge at the front of his pants, Dan wasn’t displeased in the least.

“Anything, Miss Payson?” He eyed me carefully.

“Anything,” I whispered.

He reached down to cup my chin. Pulling up, Dan prodded me to my knees. He tossed the paddle to one side and worked on the knot to my tie. “Wrists,” he ordered.

I gave them to him without pause. My breath caught as he tied them together with the tie, one crossed over the other. Then he guided me to place them behind my neck.

With me kneeling at his feet, my hands behind my neck, I licked my lips. This was getting really good. 

Dan undid the shirt button at my throat. I offered a little protest. “Sir!”

He cocked a brow at me. “Will it be detention then? A note to your parents?”

I swallowed hard. “No sir.”

He continued to unbutton my blouse, parting the fabric a little more as he went. Soon it hung wide open, displaying the young girl cotton bra with the ubiquitous rosebud sewn between the cups.

Dan traced a finger over the top of one cup, letting it slip beneath the fabric so that his nail scraped along my skin. I shivered, and his eyes darkened at my response. I trembled, feeling his power over me. I was a schoolgirl in the hands of a man in authority who I had a crush on.

Dan spoke not a word as he played around the outlines of my bra cups. My nipples sharpened to exquisite points, making themselves obvious against the soft cotton. Though my skirt hid the evidence, my thighs were painted with the wet of excitement. 

Dan covered my breasts with his hands and squeezed. I couldn’t contain the moan of pleasure that erupted from my throat.  My chest thrust forward independent of my control.

He grunted at my response. His hands went around me, expertly unhooking the bra. He slid the straps so the cups went up and over my head, draping the bra over my bound wrists.

Dan’s fingers went back to my boobs. He grasped the swollen, reddened tips and pinched. As the pressure grew, I moaned again and writhed. Glass shards of wondrous pain stabbed into me. My cries grew louder as he twisted.

“Do you know what I think, Miss Payson?” Dan asked in a rumbling voice.

I gasped, “Sir?”

“I think you behave badly so you can come to my office. So you can feel my paddle on your bare butt.” He smirked. “Now you have to pay a much greater price. You didn’t count on this, did you?”

Now on sale at Amazon, Amazon UK, Barnes & Noble, Smashwords, and All Romance. Also in print.


Start your journey with Brandilynn and the paranormal residents of Fulton Falls in Netherworld I: Drop Dead Sexy for only 99 cents. But hurry, it goes back to full price on February 1! Available