Pisces Hooks Taurus (Signs of Love, #4)
by Anyta Sunday
Self-published
Release day: October 16th, 2018
Length: 285 pages
It's a time for searching, and a time for finding, Pisces: keep casting your line and you will hook what you're looking for.
Zane has it all planned out: land the perfect Meet Cure, fall in love, and live happily ever after. Should be simple enough if he put his mind to it. A little creativity and some thinking outside of the box, and voila, he'd be married to the woman of his dreams.
It would be perfect.
And it would be before his visa ran out.
But why are his feelings running wild now that the pressure's on? Why is his picture-perfectpla turning into a muddled mess of morphed metaphors he can't make sense of anymore?
Just as well he's met an English professor to help. And even though their first meet is everything but cute, this down-to-earth teacher may just be the realist Zane needs to ground him and give him a shot at love after all.
Don't cast your line too wide, Pisces. Your perfect catch may already have bitten.
~ - ~ - ~
Pisces
Hooks Taurus (Signs of Love #4) is an MM opposites-attract romantic comedy
featuring an unapologetic romantic and a broken realist.
More wit,
banter and bad puns - and even more heart-stopping slow burn!
Can be
read as a standalone.
Excerpt:
“What is that?”
Beckett’s mum and guests had left, and Beckett
had brought Zane and his worldly belongings into an exposed-beam attic with a
chain-pull light.
Zane set his box and suitcase against a
slanted wall. The small, empty space contained a tiny window, a chest of
drawers, and a low futon. Dust spokes glittered under the swaying light.
Beckett pointed at Zane’s box, one brow
arched.
Zane laid the bearskin rug on the floor and
straightened out the kinks. Beckett gaped at the bear poised as if to eat his
ankle.
“I thought it was romantic,” Zane said with a
sigh. He rested back on his heels, soft fur against his knees. “Now I’m kinda
stuck with the beast.”
“Tough cross to bear.”
Zane grinned. “What’s with the word-wittage,
anyway?”
“Word-wittage. Nice alliteration. I like
playing with words.” Beckett sidestepped the bear and gestured around the
attic. “The wooden slats are creaky, the bathroom is back down the ladder. My
sister is returning from Europe Thursday, staying here until she finds her own
place. The couch is too small for you, so . . . .”
“I’m totally cool to bunk with you.”
Beckett
swept a hand through his hair, gaze darting toward the bed, the window.
“There’ll be no bunking.”
Understood. He had a few days to find another
accommodation—or convince Beckett that bunking could be fun.
Zane pulled his drawing tablet and stylus from
their cushioned compartment. “Did you want to head to Chiffon with your
friends? Whatever Chiffon is.”
“It’s a bar where we professors drink pinot
noir and pontificate on the pleasures of punning.”
“Um . . . .”
“It’s a pretentious penis party.”
Zane turned around, armed with the supplies he
needed to finish—or fix—the comic. “Sounds like a . . . picnic?”
The corners of Beckett’s mouth pulled up. Zane
dropped the electronics to the bed and crossed over to the professor.
He tapped a finger against the wine stain at
the side of Beckett’s blazer lapel. “Proof that you snorted your wine while we
texted? I’ll have it dry-cleaned, if you’d like?”
“It’s not your fault. I’ll sort it out. Use it
as an excuse to buy another one.”
Zane caught a whiff of Beckett’s clean scent
with a subtle spicing of aftershave. Blue eyes met his, curious and hesitant.
A fat, black spider bungee-jumped from the
beam above them and dangled in Zane’s face. He dropped the fingers that had
lingered on Beckett’s chest and scrambled to the wall.
“Does a big, strapping man like you need me to
remove the tiny bastard?”
“That’s a big, strapping yes.”
A few precise movements later, Beckett trapped
the hairy beast in his hands. Insane
yet heroic.
The bed squealed as Beckett kneeled on it.
Zane crawled next to him, opened the window, and beat a quick retreat as
Beckett set the spider free. “The sheets are freshly changed, and you can help
yourself to breakfast.”
Fresh bed and breakfast? Lovely. But Zane was
more concerned about suicidal spiders. He studied the ceiling with a shudder.
“Do you think there are more?”
The window clapped shut, sealing off the cool
breeze. “Would you feel better sleeping with my cat?”
Zane’s attention pivoted to Beckett’s hands
fitting the lock. Long-fingered, deft, sure. “I’d feel better sleeping with
you.”
Beckett let out a strangled sound, swung off
the bed, and zipped to the ladder. “Good night, Zane,” he said, and dropped out
of sight.
Zane called after him. “Fine, I’ll take the cat.”
Author bio
Heart-stopping slow burn.
Anyta Sunday is a big, BIG fan of slow-burn romances. She loves to read and write stories with characters who slowly fall in love.
Some of her favorite tropes to read and write are: Enemies to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Clueless Guys, Bisexual, Pansexual, Demisexual, Oblivious MCs, Everyone (Else) Can See It, Slow Burn, Love Has No Boundaries.
Anyta writes a variety of stories, Contemporary MM Romances with a good dollop of angst, Contemporary lighthearted MM Romances, and even a splash of fantasy. Her books have been translated into German, Italian, French, and Thai.
Connect with Anyta: Website | Twitter | Facebook | Instagram
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