My darling Henry,

I don’t think a day goes by when I don’t miss your presence. When being away from you for another day feels like another day taken from us here on this earth. I want to see you laugh in person, your smile. All the crags, spots and dots on your face, the lines on your neck. Of course, we talk in our own special way, but it’s not the same as skin to skin, your soft breath on my cheek. Your big hands stroking my hair. Your warm body next to mine in bed at night. Your smooth chocolate skin. Just the smell of you. Your soothing melodic voice that ripples through my soul.

I don’t see the grey in your hair, the lines on your skin. I see you. Henry. I see your soul and you see mine.

It’s nearly been three years and still, my love for you has not waivered. It’s grown. I know you more, I am the most comfortable with you. Of everyone in my life, you’re the one I share the most with.

Emotionally you’ve always been there for me. Through some of my worst, most revolting shit a person could possibly go through. But you kept loving me anyway. Your gentle spirit and spirited opinions on EVERYTHING makes me laugh and smile. You’re such a complex combination of things that are rare to find in a man.

When I’m screaming, I can’t fucking do this anymore, you’re always there to say, “It’s okay, baby. I’m right here. It’ll be okay. I love you. We’ll get through this.”

I know you don’t think you’re that sexy or amazing but you don’t see what I see. There’s a sensuality that comes from age with you. I remember you when you were younger and yeah, you had a nice look. But now you have a deep, sensuous, smoldering heat that’s hard to duplicate.

In saying that, I’ve always told you I’m not in love with the outside image of you. I see the inside Henry, the person that is “just Henry.” That is the man that I love, not the image. Your intelligence, the way your mind works still intrigues me. I feel real and like myself when I’m with you. Your company is always enough. You big heart and gentle caring touch my soul.

There is not a day goes by when I don’t love you, miss you, want you, and need you.

I hope I never have a day on this earth without you on it, baby.

My love is always with you. I cannot really express the love I feel for you or the depths I feel. There has never been another connection like this in my life. There is no other. We get each other.

I will always love you and the deep way we connect.

With everything in my heart and soul, Meg xoxoxox



000HenryandIsoldeHenry and Isolde Synopsis:

New Orleans, city of soul, is home to the first of the new Troika Trilogy series ~ Henry and Isolde, a steamy, deeply sensuous love story.

A coming of age romance about three friends, Charlie, Henry and Izzy who become three lovers, across three lifetimes.

Henry Bovary, an older black musician and house restorer feels his life is nearing its end—until he takes on the restoration of Izzy and Brett’s big old grande dame of a house in the New Orleans Garden District. What he’s not counting on is walking in the door and falling in love with the much younger, exuberant Izzy. She touches his arm and part of him that has been missing his whole life gets plugged back into the life-force, and clicks into being. In his fantasies, he whisks her away to a life with him, crashing back to earth with the realization he’s her employee, an old man, and a black man in the South for God’s sake.

Izzy Buchanan is a passionate, outspoken, New Zealander, with wild red curls to match her personality but she’s also lonely and isolated in her life. She and Brett are mates, but not much else—they’ve missed the boat emotionally and physically in their marriage. Some mysterious force draws Izzy to New Orleans, though, and the house. Despite the house being gutted and a hardware stores wet dream, she knows it’s right when she walks in the door. What she doesn’t bargain for is the instance connection to Henry when he turns up to inspect it—she feels like she knows him.

Their friendship turns into a steamy, passionate relationship when Izzy seduces Henry in the secret garden he’s built for her. His life goes from fifty shades of beige to a rainbow of textures, sights and sounds, but most of all—feelings he’s allowed to have. As their love grows, and inhibitions die, Henry comes into his sexuality for the first time in his life. The deep friendship, love and breathtaking romance revitalizes Henry’s old bones. But will he be able to keep up with this achingly beautiful, younger woman? And will she leave her husband?

Their growing relationship exposes family secrets. When Henry suffers an emotional crisis, a surprising World War Two lifetime memory resurfaces. It reveals Henry and Izzy’s intense connection to Henry’s best friend, Charlie Laralde, another musician from a wealthy Creole family. He and Henry have known each other since the day he was born. Charlie’s gorgeous and charming but he’s lost the ability to be vulnerable, and a connected lover with someone. He can’t open his heart, carrying deep wounds from a relationship that ended in tragedy.

When Izzy comes into their lives, an old heart and soul connection between them all brings surprising desires to the surface. How does Charlie fit into their lives? It’s complicated…

A trilogy romance that spans a decade and two past lives between New Orleans, England, and France. It takes Charlie, Henry, and Izzy from friends to lovers, a part of the chi circle where the flame still burns and love never dies. Three souls who reach across more than one lifetime to rekindle a deep love between them.


Purchase Henry and Isolde:






Henry and Isolde Excerpt:

“Iz, where’s Brett?” I ask her quietly.

“Still in Vegas, on the slots.” She shrugs.

“Okay,” I say softly, touching her arm.

“He’s coming home later with some friends on their plane.”

This is nothing new, Brett does his own thing a lot.

Then breathing in deeply, she exhales and a mischievous grin spreads across her face. “I’ll sit in the front with you.”

I arrange her skirt, click her seat belt, and hand her a mimosa. She nearly drops it when my hand brushes hers. Maybe she’s as nervous as me. I wrap both of my hands around hers.

“Do you have it?” Our eyes meet and hold.

“Yes, Henry,” she whispers softly as though she isn’t talking about the drink.

Hell. A twinge of hope passes through my old body, and I pray this isn’t the day it decides to return the call of the siren.

Izzy gets even more animated after only one sip of a drink. Soon she’s wriggling, legs up on the seat, legs down. She twists around to talk to everyone in the back, flashing black lace panties and a raspberry lace, Simone Perele bra.

I know this—because she opens the parcels on the kitchen counter to show Marie. She only orders the French line in the hot colors. I’ve watched her trace a polished purple fingernail over red poppy flowers embroidered on sheer black fabric. The green one with orange satin ribbon threaded through the bra straps and orange embroidery on the cups is also a favorite of mine. They’re pretty and yes, sexy.

She’ll say, “What do you think, Henry?”

I usually think I might have a heart attack right there and then.

©Meg Amor 2015


Meet Meg Amor:

Meg spent a lifetime as a therapist being fascinated, and collecting unusual love stories. She loves to write sensual erotic romance, deep soulful love stories for emotionally intelligent people. She often writes committed poly relationships, and other unusual romance mixes. And nearly all her stories feature a past life.

Her work is ultimately about deep love and relationships. Meg believes that good sensuous sex is an integral part of that. She likes to write and read about all the beautiful sensuous details in love stories.

Meg hand-wrote and ‘published’ her first book when she was eleven years old, about her parents divorce. Constantly told as a child, she had a vivid and active imagination—the dawn of the computer era meant she could now take dictation at speed from the interesting characters galloping around her head.

She grew up in New Zealand, and lives in California with her American fur children, Leo Ray Jr. the ginger Ninja. They’re headed home soon to the sultry soul city of New Orleans, or Hawai’i where nearly all her books are set. It’s a toss up but the Big Island of Hawai’i might win.


Web Tracks:

Website | Facebook | TwitterGoogle+ | Goodreads | Amazon Author Page | Muse It Up Profile



Reader, writer, gamer, nerd, and kpop lover; Ms. Ali Cat lives deep in her own imagination within the grand city limits of San Diego, CA. A proponent of afternoon naps, kitten cuddles, and hashtags, she will be voting: #COFFEFFORPOSITIVECHANGE in the next presidential election.
Hashtag: Love Letters – To Henry Bovary, from Meg Amor
Tagged on:         

Facebook Comments

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Time limit is exhausted. Please reload CAPTCHA.