I’m a big fan of Anyta Sunday’s books, especially the Signs of Love series, so I was a bit concerned when Pisces Hooks Taurus started off a little slow for me. I am so glad that I kept on reading because I ended up loving this book! Ms. Sunday’s writing can be a bit quirky (not a bad thing) so for some it might be an acquired taste but for this reader her slow-burn stories are some of the best romantic comedies I’ve read in the MM world.

Zane is a true romantic looking for his one true love. He also needs to find that love quickly as his Visa is about to run out. He doesn’t really want to return to his home in New Zealand; he wants to stay near his favorite brother and his new baby.

Beckett has been disappointed in love before when his younger husband took off soon after their wedding. He’s vowed to never remarry.

I just loved how good Zane and Beckett were together, especially when Zane was slow to realize what they had between them. The sexual tension in the writing was there for everyone to see but it took Zane a little while to catch on.

Once both men admitted how they felt the story got even hotter and sweeter; I could feel their love jumping off of the page. One of the things I like most about Anyta Sunday’s books is the sense of humor she gives her characters. Pisces Hooks Taurus is filled with lots of wit and humor and love. Signs of Love continues to be one of my favorite series and I hope there are more book coming.

Reviews for Anyta Sunday

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Excerpt #1:
Zane pressed himself against the cool fence pickets, letting the women pass. He bounced his palms over the rounded spikes and grinned at Darla. “I’m Zane,” he said over drowning chatter. “I hope you’ll need to remember that.”

“I’ll commit it to memory, Zane.” Darla studied him like a full-page comic panel. “Yes. You’re just what a broken bull needs.”

Broken bull? What was the colorful old darling talking about?

“The professor loves literature,” she said through a bout of coughing. “My advice? Talk books. Talk Dostoyevsky and Toy Story.”

Dostoy-what’s-it-called or Toy Story. He hadn’t known Toy Story was a book first. Good thing he’d seen the movie. “Thanks for the tip. Think you could keep an eye on my things?”

“Sure,” she said. He stepped over the threshold, and her voice trailed after him. “If anyone tries to steal it, I’ll whip out the Krav Maga.”

Excerpt #2:
“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.”

Signs of Love Series

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