Today Silken Sheets would like to welcome Helena Harker to the blog. She is a teacher by day, writer by night, a daydreamer who loves to escape to other worlds. Her fiction is populated by strong men, passionate women and lots of paranormal creatures. In her free time she enjoys photography and curling up with a good book.
Now, on with the good part…
How long have you been writing?
I’ve been writing since I was 15, but I only started writing erotica about 9 months ago.
What genres do you write besides erotica?
I have published 4 young adult novels (thrillers, fantasy, urban fantasy). Everything else is erotica, although it might vary from contemporary erotica to steampunk.
Where do you write?
Anywhere I can bring my laptop. It could be at work (during breaks), in front of the TV, on the bus.
What is the most you have written in one day?
About 3,000 words, and for me, that was epic!!!! Of course I needed to revise those words quite a bit after. It was not a clean first draft!
What book do you wish you’d written?
The Golden Compass. It was brilliant.
You have to jump out of a plane w/ a holey parachute or edit your 100K MS by hand, what. do. you. do?
I will definitely take a chance on that parachute! (And I’m afraid of heights, so that goes to show you how I feel about editing. It’s painful!)
What are your current projects?
I am finishing up a steampunk erotic novel called “Camellia’s Cabinet of Curiosities”, about a woman hellbent on revenge after her fiancé betrayed her.
Name one entity that you feel supported you outside of family members.
I have fantastic critique partners who have been with me for several years. I couldn’t do it without them.
Do you see writing as a career?
I don’t think I’ll ever be able to quit my day job, but I do look at it as a career in the sense that I take it seriously, I do it every day, and I keep trying to improve my craft.
Do you have any advice for other writers?
Never quit. Don’t get discouraged. Find a supportive critique group and keep improving!
What were the challenges (research, literary, psychological, and logistical) in bringing it to life?
I had to do a lot of research about lifecasting, which is taking a mold of a person’s body and then creating the sculpture based on the mold. I didn’t know anything about sculpture, so I watched a lot of Youtube videos and read a lot about the process.
Coffee/Tea? Coffee, preferably Turkish; or cappuccino
Cake/Cookies? Moist chocolate cake
Coke/Pepsi? I can’t really tell the difference, so either one
Heels/Flats? Heels, three inches (I’m 5’9, but I still love heels!)
BDB/The Order? Call me ignorant. I don’t get this one. BDB???
Vampires/Werewolves? Definitely vampires. They live forever and don’t go crazy during a full moon.
Cats/Dogs? Dogs. They’re friendlier, not as aloof as cats. Dogs have masters, cats have staff.
Art of Desire
by Helena Harker
Ellora’s Cave Exotika
When Jenna runs into a former student she used to have a crush on, she decides to make her lusty fantasies a reality. Justin is studying Fine Arts in university, and when he asks Jenna to pose nude for a sculpture, her inner cougar tells her to go for it. But while Jenna can’t wait to teach him how to pleasure an older woman, Justin turns the tables and decides to teach her the art of patience.
His arctic-blue eyes met mine, and shivers of recognition danced through me.
I hadn’t seen him in a year, but it felt like only days. As gorgeous as ever, Justin arched his brows in surprise, giving me a shy smile before pouring red wine into two long-stemmed glasses.
So he worked as a bartender in a hotel restaurant. Maybe I’d ask him for a Sex on the Beach or better yet, a Screaming Orgasm. I grinned. Still eyeing his dirty-blond hair, neatly trimmed beard and square jaw—God, I’d love to trail my fingers along that jaw—I walked to the bar, swept my short ruffled skirt under me and sat down. Long, black hair fell past my shoulders. I tucked a few strands behind my ear, glad I’d taken extra time this morning to apply Bold Bordeaux, my favorite shade of lipstick, and matching eye shadow.
Hey, scrumptious, I wanted to say, but opted for a more acceptable, “Hi, Justin, how have you been?” My teeth snagged on my lower lip, and butterflies came alive in my stomach. Why the hell was I this nervous?
Because he’s half your age, my conscience snapped. And in case you’ve forgotten, he’s your student.
Former student, my inner cougar growled back. He graduated last June, remember?
“Hi, Mrs. Fall—”
“Jenna!” I corrected him. No need for formalities, especially since they reminded me of my age. “I’m not your teacher anymore.”
“Jenna,” he said slowly, savoring every syllable as it rolled off his tongue. He returned the bottle to its shelf and offered me the wine list. “Great to see you. I’m going to the University of Montreal now. I started a massage therapy program last summer, but I quit. Needed something more intellectually stimulating.”
Oh I could stimulate you in all kinds of ways, the cougar inside me purred.
In my media class, he’d always made insightful comments about current events, and he eagerly dissected social issues. University suited him better than massage school. Although massage school had its perks. I pictured myself lying on a table, a towel draped over me from the waist down, Justin’s oiled palms sliding down my back, and then creeping under the towel, reaching all the way to my ass. In long, firm strokes, his hands glided upward, along my spine, past my shoulders, his thumbs working at the muscles, melting the tension at the base of my neck. Another smooth descent, his touch making me wet, his index finger slipping into my crack, still lower, until it dipped into my moist folds. My definition of bliss.
The waitress whisked the wineglasses off the bar. Except for two other women chatting away in cozy armchairs by the window, the place was empty. Good. We had privacy.