mia loves henry miller – Letter 39 – He’s Married to a Mafia Princess, Crazy Cunnilingus, and Extreme Intoxication at the Palomino Club

mia loves henry miller

Letter 39 – He’s Married to a Mafia Princess, Crazy Cunnilingus, and Extreme Intoxication at the Palomino Club

“My books seem like someone else’s work now. Sometimes I wonder, did I write this or that? Was it I writing about myself or was it somebody else writing about me?” –Henry Miller, quotes on page 116 in the book, Henry Miller Full of Life, A Memoir of America’s Uninhibited Literary Genius, by Kathryn Winslow

2/20/2012 – 8:48 p.m.

Dear Henry Miller,

I’m at letter thirty-nine in less than three months time.  I have only eleven more letters to write before I compile all of these letters to publish my first book, Mia Loves Henry Miller – Volume One.  It’s nice to come close to reaching a goal of mine, after many years of dreaming about it.  I still have so many topics I want to discuss with you, and it is the reason why I will continue writing these letters and publish another fifty of them as a second novel, Mia Loves Henry Miller – Volume 2, to accompany this first book, somewhere in the near future.

“The reason Henry painted nude figures and covered up heads was because clothing and hair were too difficult for him to do. He omitted ears for the same reason. The emphasis was on the eyes, which he especially liked to paint-in his way, as orbs without lids or lashes. Sometimes he threw in a few eyes here and there on the paper.” –Kathryn Winslow, Henry Miller: Full of Life, A Memoir of America’s Uninhibited Literary Genius

Today, I’ve been painting a large portrait of Prince for a majority of the day and listening to one of my favorite author’s J.D. Robb on Audio Book.  Lieutenant Eve Dallas kicks major ass! I listen to J.D. Robb’s books over and over again.  I never get tired of J.D. Robb’s talent and the person who reads this intriguing, ingenious detective series. Susan Erickson has a multi – talented voice!  She mesmerizes me, sucking me in, making me lose track of time as I paint away.  She is seriously iced!  Being seriously iced is a good thing in Lieutenant Eve Dallas’ gritty, crime ridden realm and part of this futuristic world’s sci-fi lingo, which I love. Continue reading

mia loves henry miller – Letter 38 – LMAO with Friends, Burlesque Beginnings, The Blues and Tiger Man

mia loves henry miller

Letter 38 – LMAO with Friends, Burlesque Beginnings, The Blues and Tiger Man





“A loving heart is the beginning of all knowledge.” –Thomas Carlyle

2/14/2012 – 12:56 a.m.

Dear Henry Miller,

Happy Valentine’s Day Henry Valentine Miller!  I love you so much!  I genuinely do.  However, I actually think this is a stupid holiday.  I’m not very romantic when it comes to this Hallmark moment.  I think that it’s a ploy to increase the flow in our economy and to put expectations on people that can be unreasonable.  Why can’t we give to others because we love them and wish to express that, on any particular day?  Why do women expect roses that will eventually die or diamonds, baubles and jewels that really do nothing but make one a little more decorative or put them more in the spotlight for thieves?  Or why do we like to receive yucky chocolates, bought at the last moment, in highly decorated boxes?  I do love lingerie though.  I would love new lingerie – sexy black thigh high stockings, long black gloves, matching panties, corset and a bra.  Do you know how many fights I have been in with my significant others because of unrealistic expectations on this holiday?  I once threw a huge bottle of baby powder at my ex-husband, which exploded into large volcanic, white clouds in the bedroom, because he didn’t do anything for me for Valentine’s Day.  I was young and stupid.  He generally bought me cheap, yucky chocolates, in an over decorated box, after Valentine’s Day, when they went on sale.  Today, I feel so much better and emotionally stable that I have no expectations for this day.  I didn’t even remember it was today, until I looked at the date when I began typing this letter. Do you think that I’m being cynical?  Yes, indeed I am!!  I do like this day because the name of it reminds me of you.  I love your middle name. Continue reading

mia loves henry miller – Letter 37 – Lieu-tellan Cable, South Pacific, MJ and Bachelor Parties

mia loves henry miller

Letter 37 – Lieu-tellan Cable, South Pacific, MJ and Bachelor Parties

(I started this letter almost a week ago.  I’ve been working on this letter in bits and pieces all week, in between resting and recuperating)

2/6/2012 – 4:06 p.m.

Dear Henry Miller,

I’m feeling much better with my kidneys.  I spent five hours of my time in the emergency room last night.  I would rather not spend my weekend this way.  Especially, after having an amazing show this past Friday night, with a very packed house!  I am still riding the high!  It’s so wonderful to see my dreams materialize and my hard work and efforts finally paying off.

I wouldn’t have gone to the emergency room, if I wasn’t suffering so much.  I would much rather be writing to you or painting.  The attending emergency room physician gave me a drug, Flowmax, which is normally used for men with prostrate issues.  However, it worked liked a miracle drug for my pain level, dilating my kidneys and urethra.  I finally felt some relief.  My agony had me pacing the floors for many days.  The pain, pressure and frequent urination soon dissipated after I got the medication into my system.  Today, I’m still not 100% better.  I had a fever over 100 for most of the night with severe chills.  My body is fatigued from fighting the pain.  I have been sleeping all day, hoping that with a lot of rest, I will be back to feeling like my active self soon.  I haven’t slept much over the past week due to the pain.  I have been one crabby bitch!

Because Minnesota hasn’t really experienced a deep freeze this year, everyone who lives here is being hit with various illness, flu, etc…Each time I get an ear or respiratory infection, or a cold, it flares up my kidneys.  I was diagnosed in my mid twenties with a kidney disease that targets Asian women, IGA Nephropathy aka Berger’s Disease.  All I can do is live with this condition, live my life to the fullest, and hope that I never see end stage renal failure. Continue reading

mia loves henry miller – Letter 36 – I Am the Succubus (another erotic story)

mia loves henry miller

Letter 36 – I Am the Succubus (another erotic story)

2/5/12 – 10:33 a.m.

Dear Henry Miller,

“Every moment is a golden one for him who has the vision to recognize it as such.” —Henry Miller 

My burlesque show, Dr. Farrago’s Burlesque Theater, was amazing this past Friday night!  I’m so glad that I didn’t cease our show after our big NYE production.  I knew that I was nearing close to the curve of success.  For numerous months, my goal has been to put 200 audience members into the house. I surpassed that number by 37.  It was so thrilling!  Mr. C was so pumped, reporting the door count to me every so often as it gradually increased.  Last year, we were only filling the house with approximately 40 people.  At this last show, we even had a very long line at the door, long before the club opened.  I haven’t observed the venue being this full in a very long time.  I could hardly walk through the large crowd.  The tables went fast until it was standing room only.  Everyone had their phone cameras out, shooting the performers in mid act.  Even City Pages, a highly respected Twin Cities publication, sent out a photographer to do an online, photo slide presentation of our show.  It will be posted on Monday.  ( http://www.citypages.com/slideshow/dr-farragos-burlesque-theater-at-ground-zero-36080787/)  It’s so exciting to see my dreams and goals materialize.   It’s been many years of hard work and persistence.

“Life is the messy bits.” –Claire, Letters to Juliet

Unfortunately, I am suffering with another Kidney stone.  I’ve been pacing the floors, night and day, in agony for almost a week.  I can hardly remain still.  I’m grateful the pain subsided for a few hours, and the potent pain meds kicked in during our show.  Today, I continue to run a low grade fever and my body is shaking from the pain. I hate to write about my physical ailments.  I’d rather not, and write about sex.  However, I need to give you a full picture of the obstacles I overcome in my daily life.  I need to express my life, as accurately as I can, in these letters.  My life consists of many wonderful, positive things.  But, much like everyone else, I have the negatives of living life as well – the obstacles to endure – the messy bits. Continue reading

mia loves henry miller – Letter 35 – Mr. Camera Man, Art, Music and Erotica

mia loves henry miller

Letter 35 – Mr. Camera Man, Art, Music, and Erotica

2/1/12 – 10:31 p.m.

Dear Henry Miller,

It’s been a long day.  I’m one day away from showtime.  I’m still dealing with show drama stuff. Someday I will laugh at these obnoxious moments.  Today, they don’t seem as funny.  I wanted to write you a letter earlier today, but, I haven’t had the chance until now.  I’m surprised that I even have the energy to open up a new word document and begin typing.  I’m yawning in between words.

I remember one evening in early summer – the year I met Mr. C.  He had me in a tightly precarious position, bound, naked and submissive. We were playing; spankings, toys, hot, sensual, dripping, candle wax and the sensation of fear instilled by verbal communication.  It made my blood chill me right to the bone.  My eyes got HUGE when I heard Mr. C whisper hotly near my ear, “I’m going to get a camera and take photos of you like this.  And there is nothing you can do.”

Part of me knew he wouldn’t really do it, yet, I didn’t really know.  Our relationship was so new.  He could have gotten his vintage Nikon camera and clicked away and I could not have done anything about it. It was frightening.  But, I thought that it made our hours of play time more thrilling.  It added depth to our scene like tiny details in a painting.

I actually really don’t like having my photo taken. I apologize for taking  away from the fantasy that I like to fuck the camera lens.  But, it takes an army to motivate me to do a photo shoot.  Mr. C and one of my dearest friends who is not a lover, Mr. D, are pretty much the only people I feel most comfortable with in front of the camera, and it took me a long time. I get so nervous to work with other photographers. I can’t help it. Mr. C and I would get into fights whenever it came time to do a new photo shoot for MindCaviar.com or my erotic web site. I’m pretty pathetic. Continue reading

mia loves henry miller – Letter 34 – That Night in Tintagel (erotic story)

mia loves henry miller

Letter 34 – That Night in Tintagel  (erotic story)

1/31/12 – 11:42 p.m.

Dear Henry Miller,

“I never did mind about the little things.” —Bridget Fonda, from the movie, Point of No Return 

I’m writing this letter on 1/31/12 at 11:42 p.m.

“I never did mind about the little things.” –Bridget Fonda, from the classic movie, Point of No Return

 Dear Henry,

I have had a very long day.  I’m exhausted. I have been dealing with show stuff all day – crazy drama burlesque show stuff.  My mantra with a forced smile is, “I never did mind about the little things.”

 Since I did not have the time to write a detailed letter today of an erotic or exciting event, I decided to go back through my archives of old, erotic stories.  One of my favorite books to read is the Merlin Trilogies, by Mary Stewart, which inspired this story.  I thought that maybe you’d like to read a bit of erotica, which I wrote so many years ago, shortly after I started with MindCaviar.com.   If you enjoy the days of King Arthur and Merlin, you might enjoy this story.

HMS Uther (P62)

HMS Uther (P62) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

That Night in Tintagel

“Welcome, my Lord,” I greeted confidently.  My chest felt as if an army of men galloped inside, charging for the unknown, as I stared down upon King Uther Pendragon, as if a vision were ascending the steps.  For months I’d longed for him while I was heavily protected by Cornwall guards inside the damp, cold walls of Tintagel Castle.  Tonight we will be united as one, fulfilling Destiny’s plan.

 My mind told me that my desire for the King was foolish, laced thick with adultery.  But my heart told me otherwise.  It whispered to the alcoves in my soul that this was a night fabricated by fMy breath lodged in my throat.  My heart thumped with guilt.  Fright and thrill danced closely together within, and my heart ceased beating while I waited for him in the open doorway on the second landing, trembling.  I stood there, nobly cloaked in a long, shimmering gown of white, with a soft dark blue mantle hanging Roman style over one shoulder, and jewels tucked decoratively within my long tresses of black hair.ate.  Merlin confirmed this for me as well, many weeks ago.  I could not deny my undying lust for Uther.  Yet, my mind kept swarming with thoughts about my matrimony to my husband, Gorlois, Duke of Cornwall.  Guilt stabbed at my conscience like a thousand sharp, pointed icicles, because King Uther now appeared in my husband’s image, disguised for our long awaited night, thanks to Merlin’s magic.

My head spun.  I felt lightheaded with dizziness, my heart raced wild, and my youthful body swooned with intoxication when Uther reached the second floor landing, took my hands eagerly in his, and then kissed me with the kind of passion that Gorlois could not render.  Please, don’t mistake my love for Gorlois.  He’s never bid me harm, only love.  It’s just that I was fated to be a royal Queen.  I’m a daughter of a King, and I come from a long line of royalty.  From the second I saw beguile in Uther’s eyes, the day of his crowning in London, I knew we were predestined for one another.

Uther Pendragon, of the TV show Merlin, is a N...

Uther Pendragon, of the TV show Merlin, is a Neocon (Photo credit: KAZVorpal)

Instantly a warm heat radiated through my tall, svelte body when Uther enfolded me within the thick material of his scarlet cloak, hiding my gown from the guards.  It felt as if I’d waited an eternity for his embrace, nuzzling my head into his masculine chest, listening to the robust beat of his heart.

 “Come,” Uther politely ordered, rushing to get behind my chamber door.  I attempted to conceal my zealousness, following him into my quarters. Our silhouettes danced closely upon the stone walls as our bodies intimately pressed together nearby the firelight, which flickered, swayed, and wafted the aroma of fresh apple wood.

“At last Lady Ygraine, our time has finally come.” The King breathlessly spoke before pressing his athirst lips upon my slightly parted mouth. My tongue could not wait for him to enter between my scarlet lips. With haste, I tossed my title of Lady out my window, plunging with force my taste buds into the King’s mouth, slithering sinfully deep inside, feverishly attempting to lick his sinful soul.  When our tongues unraveled, separating his lips from mine, I took his head and rested it within the crevice of my bosom.  Softly I stroked Uther’s gray painted hair with my hand, admiring how much he looked like a little boy craving for dessert, even disguised as the Duke of Cornwall.  My sex opened and shut, contracting like a beating heart, desirous for Uther to stroke it when I felt his breath pant puffs of hot, raw air upon my billowing chest, causing sparks to ignite between my thighs, setting my bloomers aflame.

“For weeks I’ve longed for this night,” Uther whispered, kissing softly the warm crevice between my heaving bosoms.

King Arthur’s Castle Off Tintagel Head, Cornwall

King Arthur’s Castle Off Tintagel Head, Cornwall (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

“And I as well, my Lord,” breathlessly I replied, tipping my head back in rapture, closing my Celtic blue eyes, feeling his strong hands stroke upon my skin.  A lusty moan escaped me when I felt his large hands squeeze my breasts as if they were ripe melons, splashing waves of ecstatic pleasure through me, making my sense of anticipation feel like a tidal wave within.  Extremely titillated, I drew in my breath, exhaling ragged pants of passion.

Woman On Bed (2)

At first I was embarrassed for getting so aroused in front of Marcia, my oldest and most devout servant, who tended the fire, pretending not to look our way with scold inflaming her cold, grey eyes.  But I wasn’t going to let her disapproval halt this night.  Immediately I attempted to gather my self-confidence, remembering that I was the Lady and I need not explain my behavior to my domestic.  Yet, still I had to somehow gulp down my guilt like bitter tasting medicine, finding the strength to overcome my betrayal to Gorlois before I commanded to her, “Marcia, come here.  I need your assistance undressing. Now!” I didn’t want to wait for Uther to remove my robe, for I was unsure as to when my real husband, Gorlois the real Duke of Cornwall would return to me. I always wondered when he goes into battle, if he’ll ever return.  Sometimes I wish he wouldn’t. Will the God’s strike me down for thinking this way? Am I a demon in disguise?

 I glanced at the reproached flame in Marcia’s eyes when they transcended into wantonness, as she obediently strolled my way.  I didn’t see the wooden hairbrush in her right hand, which she carefully hid behind her back. Nor did I see her place it upon a pillow when she approached nearby me.  Marcia possessed the same look she gets when she bathes me. I believe it’s been years since her sexual appetite’s been fed.  She never speaks of a lover or husband.  I think the lust between Uther and I had set her bloomers aflame as much as mine.

 To be perfectly honest, her arousal fueled my fire even more.  She was the age of my mother; yet, I pined for her anyway.  I don’t know if it was her soft, yet stern, maternal touch which I desired – or, her discipline for coveting with Uther behind my husband, Gorlois’ back – maybe both.

 “Please, sit down,” I quietly told Uther, pointing to a finely crafted mahogany chair near my bed.  Quickly my blood rushed to my hot and humid sex.  A diabolic ache pounded on the tip of my pink, fleshy bulb.  An instinctual fervor submerged itself into the tiny knot, which aches profusely between my swollen petals of glossy flesh. My heart fluttered with anticipation and arousal when Marcia slipped my gown off my alabaster shoulders, which glistened in the flickering glow of firelight.  A roused shiver moved through me when she began untying my tightly laced corset.  My breath became more ragged and ravenous when my slip was removed, exposing my bare breasts before the King’s eyes, which now burned with carnal fever.

 My beautiful attire was messily strewn in various places upon the stone floor.  Relieved from my constrictive garment, I sighed, and then sucked in a deep breath, filling my lungs deep with oxygen.  I savored I felt an erotic shiver move through me.  It was a welcomed, yet, unfamiliar sensation.  My nipples erected when I felt the caress of a current of air which swirled within my chambers.  It decadently fondled my nakedness with its warm flames of airy breath.

 Suddenly it felt as if a thousand hot arrows had shot to my swollen, lady parts, piercing it with foment when Marcia’s arms embraced firmly around me from behind, her thumb and forefinger  fondly pinching my nipples, twisting and turning, shooting pure rapture into my veins as if an opiate.

 “Oh,” I lushly moaned, surprised by my delight. I had no idea I’d get so stimulated.  My vehement eyes locked with Uther’s. The King sat in silence, staring entranced with this scene. I don’t think he’d ever witnessed two women become so intimate with each other before.  I mischievously grinned, satisfied when I observed his loins grow hard beneath his finely tailored tunic and trousers.  Oh how I wanted his hard flesh to pound inside my wet, swollen sex!

taylors falls007

“You’re a very naughty woman!” Marcia chided, pinching my nipples even harder, as if she could hear my thoughts, making me almost wince with tears.  Yet, the heat between my legs persisted in rising as Marcia continued to reprimand, “If I didn’t know that it was the hand of fate playing out this night like the Devil hypnotically controlling its spawn, I’d punish you with much more than a mere spanking.”

My stomach churned with liquid fear, which hit my soul fast and hard, causing my adrenaline to rush fiercly.  My heart twittered with thrill when my head rapidly snapped over my left shoulder in Marcia’s direction.  My eyes are beholding the perverse glint in Marcia’s cold, gray eyes.  Just the thought of a spanking had set another burning blaze between my thighs.  Its flame pulsed high, lapping at my dripping flesh when Marcia gently removed the jewels from my hair, liberating my strands of raven silk to fall elegantly over my shoulders, its tips tickling the bare skin on my breasts, just above my areoles.  My bosoms swelled and my nipples erected harder when I felt the firm, wooden brush teasingly smooth my hair, birthing small goose bumps upon my skin, radiating warm tingles in the bottoms of my feet, curling my toes with hot anticipation.

“Bend over my knees, now!” Marcia demanded, spryly yanking my bloomers, soiled with my juice, down past my knees.  My craving for her was much too strong, so I abided.  With humility I bent over her knee as she instructed.  Shame flushed hot and red across my face, burning my cheeks, much like my bottom would soon feel, knowing Uther was intently observing.  Embarrassed tears escaped my eyes when I tightly shut them, awaiting the first strike upon my creamy white flesh.  I knew within I needed to submit – to cleanse my soul of my guilt, before I could permit the King to take me – all of me.  Although, I must confess that I feared my forthcoming pain.

“Please don–” my pleas for mercy were interrupted by the sound smack of Marcia’s brush colliding with my vulnerable bottom, drawing a painful, yet delicious cry from my mouth.  My body jolted forward from the unexpected force.  My hips unconsciously raised higher, ravenous to feel my sting increase.  However, Marcia didn’t lavish more pain upon me.  She teased me with the gentle massage of her hand, lightly rubbing in circles where it stung the most on my warm and pink buttocks.  My mind forgot about the King watching as my body melted into Marcia’s old, yet still strong legs.  Soon I was lost within the softness of her nurturing touch.

 My erogenous dew salaciously dripped from my torrid loins, as I rested upon Marcia’s knees. Instantly my eyes opened wide!  A yelp forced its way out of my throat when I abruptly felt the back side of the brush cut bitterly into my flesh, torturing the tender spots.  Thwap! Thwap!  Marcia’s brush continued on smacking the delicate curves of my buttocks, until they glowed with a vibrant red until my right arm instinctively reached behind to cease my punishment.

 As quick as a frog captures a fly, Marcia dominantly took hold of my wrist, preventing me from halting her blow.  My body writhed from the wretched pain.  My legs kicked at the air with frustration, my sobs became louder, yet my sex pulsated with wretched desire, overflowing with hot juice, dampening Marcia’s dull gray, full length skirt.  Marcia didn’t relent, she persisted in spanking my bottom until she heard King Uther beg her to stop; sitting completely naked in the mahogany chair, his eyes in a mesmerized glaze, his cloak, tunic, and trousers splayed in disheveled piles nearby.  I don’t know if he begged her to stop for fear of my anguish, or because his sword of flesh was solid with desire, lusting to plunge it into my wetness, to experience my constricting walls around his blade, to feel the exaltation as he pierced into the core of my existence.

taylors falls014

“Dine on her, my Lord,” Marcia tempted the King, with my flower in full bloom, her rigid fingers tightly stretching my petals apart, bravely daring him, knowing that she possessed what he yearned for.  Every so often Marcia would plunge two of her fingers deep into my entrance, wiggling, probing, and pressing my slippery wet walls, making such a delicious squish-squish sound.  When Uther stalked my way like a lion on the hunt, Marcia left my side to tend to the fire again and heat water for my sponge bath afterwards.

The coarseness of Uther’s beard scratched roughly at my thighs as he drew nearer to my vulva.  Deeply I inhaled, sensing his hot breath panting heavily upon my glossy bulb of stiff pink flesh, teasing it until it ached to be engulfed.  I eased myself downward on the bed. My moans of pleasure caught sideways in my throat when I felt Uther’s cunnilingus kiss.  I raggedly sighed when the fiery walls of Uther’s mouth encased my tingling flesh, sucking upon it like a candy, biting softly now and then, relishing my sweet, seductive flavor.

Arthur Uther Pendragon standing outside of the...

Arthur Uther Pendragon standing outside of the Stonehenge monument fence (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Urgently my hips thrust upward, pressing hard against Uther’s mouth.  I screamed with thrill when his tongue plunged into the depths of me.  My breath became spasmodic, like gales before a storm.  My body moved convulsively.  My legs spread further apart.  My passion roared with the thunderstorm outside the castle.  My eyes flickered upwards in my head like lightning in the sky, and my body quaked with ecstasy like the earth when thunder fiercely rumbles.

“Take me, Uther! ” I wailed with utmost need.  “Take me now! Please!”  Immediately Uther stopped lapping like a savaged wolf, but his thirst was not slaked.  I could tell he wanted more.  However, my clitoris raged with fire, burning out of control with desire.  My genitalia opened wide, seeking fulfillment.  I could tell by the insatiable gaze in Uther’s eyes that he wanted to feel my loins as much as I lusted to feel his.  My sex pulsed with an amatory greed and desire, observing him kneel upright, stroking his massive sword as if preparing for battle. I had never wanted a man to stab my sex as much as I did right now.


My ragged pants of aroused breath came fast and furious when Uther thrust into my dripping wet chasm with his hot, throbbing phallus.  Instantly my back arched high off the bed.  When I finally collapsed upon the bed, my hips impelled downward, attempting to swallow him deeper into me.  Tightly I clenched onto his manliness, attempting to capture this sensation, never to release it.  Stroke by sumptuous stroke our worlds unified and became magical, as if our lovemaking was a doorway into another dimension.


“Oh Lord yes! Yes! YES!” I cried out repetitiously, ascending my highest zenith.  My hair whipped from side to side with my head’s wild thrashing. My long fingernails embedded themselves into Uther’s sweaty flesh, attempting to hold on and sustain my ecstasy.  A long, gratifying string of orgasmic moans expelled from my parched lips while I intently observed Uther climb his pinnacle of ecstasy, rolling his eyes into the back of his head, indulging himself so deeply into our rhythmic pleasure.  Erotically I rode King Uther in the glow of firelight and silver moonbeams, reaching for his hands, placing them on my breasts, making him roughly fondle them, forcing him to please me.  His eyes widened as the rhythm of my ride increased with fury.  I felt like a half crazed maniac, screaming with ecstatic pleasure, drunk from my lust.  Suddenly every muscle in both of our bodies tensed like a corset pulled tight.  I shuddered with an orgasm when I felt King Uther’s semen spray hotly within, painting my walls a thick and creamy white.  Electricity surged from my soul to his.  Lightning flashed violently on the skyline.  A gust of wind whirled past, extinguishing our fire, now causing only the moonlight to illuminate our entwined bodies, as we panted, attempting to catch our breath, my body collapsed upon his, limp like a leaf in the rain.

Later, while Uther cuddled in my arms, I was alarmed by one of Gorlois’ men, who burst into my chambers, informing me my husband, the Duke was dead.  All words escaped me when I saw the shocked look on his face, witnessing Gorlois’ spitting image resting in my bed, naked near my side.  I couldn’t explain.  I tried to weep for my loss, yet my elation for Uther consumed me.  I felt torn with emotions.  Two weeks later I decided to wed Uther, and was crowned Queen as fate had foretold.

It’s been ten months since that stormy night.  I now cry with my handsome newborn son, Arthur cradled in my arms.  In one hour Marcia will be delivering him to Merlin.  I know I must do as I promised.  It is my payment for that enraptured night.  I know deep inside Arthur will grow to become a great man, inspiring many for thousands of years to come with his nobility, mysticism, and honorable ways.  He will be the light within the dark, fulfilling Destiny’s plan.  Merlin will protect him and teach him to be a brave, courageous, virile man.  Someday he’ll become King and fall in love with a beautiful Queen.  I can only hope she’s more faithful than I.  May he never learn of that torrid, adulterous night in Tintagel.

I hope that you enjoyed my story, Henry.  I must say goodbye for now.

Bisous, Mon Amour,


“When I’m good, I’m very good, but when I am bad, I am better.” –Mae West

Mae West posing in front of mirror for promotion

Mae West posing in front of mirror for promotion (Photo credit: Wikipedia)