Letters In the Moonlight of Taj Mahal Available Thursday for Kindle!!!

Yes, the story is finally done and will be available Thursday the 6th on Amazon for Kindle!
Letters is not your typical romance story. In fact, it is as far from typical as it can be, but it is one that I have truly enjoyed writing. I hope you will enjoy it as well.
Check back Thursday for the link. Until then, here is another excerpt:-)

Excerpt

“Seriously, guys, do we really have to do this?”

“Yeah, Mama!” both boys answer in unison, their faces mirror images of each other. Most people have a hard time telling them apart, but I have always known which of my sons is which. And in twenty-five years that still hasn't changed. Well over six feet, both boys tower over me, making me feel short even at five-feet-eight.

“But why? I've been fine and I see no reason to date. Besides, it's too much work trying to impress and wondering if this guy or that one likes me. I've been away from the game for far too long.”

“And that is precisely our point,” Keenan says, his brown eyes chastising and loving at the same time.

Kyle puts an arm around my shoulders. “Mama, Daddy's been gone for over two years now and we know you get lonely. You were lonely even before he died because the marriage was so bad. You didn't think we knew, but we did. And we know you only stayed with him because of us.” When I open my mouth to protest, he puts up a hand and I remain quiet, forcing myself to hear him out. “Daddy didn't deserve you, Mama, and I'm pretty sure he realized that in the end because we could see the love and regret in his eyes when he looked at you before taking his last breath.”

“You saw that, huh?” My voice cracks a little, but I manage to smile.

“We did,” Keenan affirms.

“Is that why you two stay so close?”

Keenan smirks. “Right. We stay so close because Jen and Ellen would kill us if we tried to move them away from the beach. That's why we jumped on our houses when they went up for sale. Being down the beach from you a mile in either direction is perfect. Plus the grand-babies get to see you whenever they want. It's a sweet set-up.”

I smile. “For me, too.”

“Back to the subject at hand,” Kyle continues. “Mama, you are still too young and beautiful to remain alone. And some lucky guy out there will consider himself fortunate to have you. Well, not have you, at least, not until after marriage, but . . . well, you get what I'm saying.”

Keenan and I both snort before breaking into laughter, which Kyle quickly joins in.

“Okay, okay, you win. I'll give it a shot. Happy now?”

“Totally,” Keenan says, hugging me. “We're just watching out for you, Mama.”

“I know,” I reply, smiling ruefully. “So, what now?”

“We've got your back,” Kyle says. “Just let us take care of it. Keenan, let me have the list?”

“The list? What . . .”

Keenan pulls some folded papers from his pocket, handing them to his brother. “We've put together a list of a few names along with pertinent info on each.”

“Pertinent info?” I question.

“Yeah,” Kyle chimes in. “You know, addresses, phone, drivers license and social security numbers. Place of employment, stats, place of birth, blood work results, pain tolerance level. You know, the important stuff.”

The belly laugh that escapes me is so loud and hard, I have to sit down because my sides ache. “You guys are quite thorough, aren't you?”

“Hell yeah!” they both say and my laughter is renewed. “You're our mama,” Keenan continues. “And none of these guys will get near you without signing documents saying they will accept the consequences for anything that goes wrong. And if they try to run, you know they won't make it far. Kyle's crossbow aim is spot-on and my rifle has seen some serious action at the gun range. Plus, I just got a new scope with a laser. So no matter what, you're covered.”

The tears that now mist my eyes are no longer from laughter, but from the gratitude I feel for the privilege of being the mother of these fine men. The sweet wives who won their love are indeed blessed. I cup Keenan's cheek, and then Kyle's.

“I love you both for taking care of me.”

“We love you, too,” they say, embracing me.

“Now,” Keenan says, waving the papers, “the list.”

Grinning, I rub my hands together. “Okay, bring them on.”

"This is a great story where again love knows no boundaries. Jewel Adams writes about Lyla who falls in love with a man 12 years younger than her. I don't want to give away the story, so read it & find out who this man is that she gave her heart to so easily!"
Laura, a fan

Introducing Letters In the Moonlight of Taj Mahal

Letters In the Moonlight of Taj Mahal is my upcoming romantic novelette and is fast becoming my new favorite story!

Lyla Kelly and Marc Hosseini have never met. The forty-seven-year-old widow and mother of grown twin boys doesn't know what to think when she begins receiving letters from the son of an old friend. She never fathomed that Marc, twelve years her junior, could ever be interested in someone like her, especially since they have never even seen one another. Nor does she count on the passion that his mere words invoke in her.

Go with Lyla and Marc on their journey of discovery, and watch a surprisingly-powerful love bloom between them–a love strong enough to rival the undying adoration that inspired the building of one of the Seven Wonders of the World. The beautiful shrine, Taj Mahal.

Excerpt

Agra, India

Dear Marc,

How I long to have you here with me. Though I have always found comfort in our letters, the thought of actually being with you makes our written words pale in comparison.

I have tried to keep myself busy today. I went for my morning walk and you were there with me as usual. Thoughts of you consume every step I take. Even more so today.

I talked with the boys after breakfast, and like clockwork, they immediately asked about you, wanting to know if you'd made it here yet. You guys have never met, yet they are completely taken with you. Why is that?

Dumb question, indeed. You seem to charm everyone by just being you. And you have charmed my grown sons by simply giving me a reason to smile each day.

Oh, heavens, how I ache to be in your arms! Being apart from you is madness. What have you done to me? I have yet to experience your embrace, but I dream of it almost every waking moment. I imagine what your arms will feel like, the feel of your mouth on mine, the taste of your kiss, and the sensation of your touch as you make love to me. Oh, how . . .

Sorry, back to my day.

After doing some laundry, I did a little more sightseeing. I have been trying to pace myself because there are so many things I want to experience with you. You did promise to take me way off the beaten path, remember? And you are going to introduce me to Bollywood! I can't wait. But of course, I will. I have heard this Indian superstar, Hrithik Roshan, is a handsome guy. But I'm sure he isn't even in your league.

I long to finally see your face, Marc, and have you see mine. I hope you will be pleased. I know I will be, because I know your heart, as you know mine. That is what matters. Every now and then when I am tempted to worry about the age difference again, I remind myself of that fact, because I know you would if you were here.

It is dark now, and like my own, the mouths of other visitors are agape at this magnificent spectacle. I have watched the colors of the grand structure change in the fading light, each shade equally beautiful, just as you told me. The Palace looks milky white in the soft light of the morning, and then it glistens brightly in the afternoon sun like a jewel against the blue sky. Then the moonlight makes it even more majestic and beautiful beyond words. Right now it is shining like a pearl in a sea of velvet.

So here I still sit, never moving from the bench, writing this letter to you bathed in the moonlight of Taj Mahal. I sat here last night, and the night before as well. I can't help wondering if this is the same bench on which Princess Diana sat when she visited so many years ago. I think my name should be carved into this bench because I occupy it so much, waiting for you. Funny, this spot always seems to be vacant, as if the fates sense this is my place–mine and yours, though we have never shared it in body, only in spirit.

When I return to my room in a while, I will email these thoughts to you.

Come to me soon, my love.

Please.

Yours forever,

Lyla

“Oh, Marc,” I whisper into the night. “Here I go again. I can't help it. My thoughts always roam to where we began, you and I. It's hard to believe it was only two months ago that I received your first letter. I wish I had it with me now. But then again, I don't need it. I remember it by heart.”

I sigh, quickly lost in the memory. “Maybe by starting at the beginning this time, it will help me manage the incessant pain of this great and terrible wait I endure.”

Release details coming soon!