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“Myrtle goggled at them.

"You're alive," she said blankly to Harry.

"There's no need to sound so disappointed," he said grimly...

"Oh, well... I'd just be thinking... if you had died, you'd have been welcome to share my toilet," said Myrtle, blushing silver.

"Urgh!" said Ron... "Harry! I think Myrtle's grown fond of you! You've got competition, Ginny!”
― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets

“Eau-de-vie- flavored with myrtle," said the old woman. "Try it!" She watched intently as Ellie raised the glass to her lips. "Myrtle from the garden. I steep the berries with honey in the local firewater, but the secret ingredient is the flower, added for the final day. Such a pretty white flower it is, drowned in purple for just one day."
The liqueur tasted of stewed plums. Not unpleasant, but very strong.”
― Deborah Lawrenson, The Sea Garden

“Desert heath-myrtle

Meaning: Flame, I burn
Thryptomene maisonneuvii | Northern Territory

Traditionally, Anangu women beat pukara (Pit.) with a wooden bowl to collect dew containing nectar from the flowers. Thryptomene, derived from Greek, means coy or prudish; this bush appears modest but in winter through to spring produces a cloak of tiny white flowers with red centres, blooming as if revealing a secret.”
― Holly Ringland, The Lost Flowers of Alice Hart