by: Anyta Sunday
Series: Love, Austen
Genre: Gay Romance
Release Date: October 11, 2021
Amazon | Paperback | Goodreads
When you have the love of your life, you hold on tight.
You don’t let go.
Debate champ extraordinaire Elliot Anneston is a master in persuasion. He wins at everything. Until he meets sexy Scottish transfer Wentworth McAllister. Suddenly he doesn’t know what’s up and what’s up. The world is a whirlwind of feeling, and when it comes to the debate of his life, to lose is inevitable. How can he not, when his argument is a lie?
I can’t love you. I don’t.
When you lose the love of your life, you don’t get a second chance.
Or do you?
“Annnnd, excuse us.” Elliot cuffed Wentworth around the arm and pulled. And pulled. “Yeah, you’re going to have to move, big boy.”
“Big boy?” Wentworth looked intrigued.
“Stop it.”
“Man, the big boy bit was all you.”
“You make me funny in the head.” Elliot pulled more insistently and Wentworth folded into it, allowing himself to be dragged out into the foyer. The heat under the soft material of his sweater made Elliot’s hand feel weirdly light. He let go hurriedly. “We can’t be friends now.”
“Why not?”
“I’d never be able to bring you home and look my mum in the face again.”
“You can always hang out on The Frederick. My houseboat.”
Elliot halted. “Your what now?”
“Dad and Jane and I live on a boat. I have no problems bringing you home and looking him in the face.”
“I don’t swim. I’m not hopping on a boat.”
Wentworth was once again leaning against a wall, one foot crossed over the other, arms folded, lazy smile tipping his lips. “If we cannae hang oot at your place, and you wullnae set foot on mine . . .”
“Exactly! Whatever weird fancy you had here, it’s a lost cause.”
Wentworth narrowed his eyes in concentration. “Elliot?”
He pushed off the wall; it halved the distance between them to a foot. One silly little foot, and it was both the shortest and the longest distance of Elliot’s life. Their eyes met. Such a brilliant, midnight blue . . .
“I’m a very stubborn guy. Think of me like an oak, roots deep in the ground. Immoveable. When I make my mind up about something, I see it through. And my mind was made up last night. I want—”
“To get to know me,” Elliot finished for him, hands on hips, frowning.
“Yes, but more than that.”
“You want to be my friend.”
“More than that.”
“My best friend?”
Wentworth shook his head.
Elliot froze and whispered, “My boyfriend?”
Wentworth paused, and again shook his head. Elliot wrung out a relieved breath. Electricity shot around his body at the mere thought of being Wentworth’s boyfriend. Unbearable.
Yes, unbearable. But . . . Also thrilling?
Wentworth met Elliot’s eye. “I want to be your husband.”
“Big boy?” Wentworth looked intrigued.
“Stop it.”
“Man, the big boy bit was all you.”
“You make me funny in the head.” Elliot pulled more insistently and Wentworth folded into it, allowing himself to be dragged out into the foyer. The heat under the soft material of his sweater made Elliot’s hand feel weirdly light. He let go hurriedly. “We can’t be friends now.”
“Why not?”
“I’d never be able to bring you home and look my mum in the face again.”
“You can always hang out on The Frederick. My houseboat.”
Elliot halted. “Your what now?”
“Dad and Jane and I live on a boat. I have no problems bringing you home and looking him in the face.”
“I don’t swim. I’m not hopping on a boat.”
Wentworth was once again leaning against a wall, one foot crossed over the other, arms folded, lazy smile tipping his lips. “If we cannae hang oot at your place, and you wullnae set foot on mine . . .”
“Exactly! Whatever weird fancy you had here, it’s a lost cause.”
Wentworth narrowed his eyes in concentration. “Elliot?”
He pushed off the wall; it halved the distance between them to a foot. One silly little foot, and it was both the shortest and the longest distance of Elliot’s life. Their eyes met. Such a brilliant, midnight blue . . .
“I’m a very stubborn guy. Think of me like an oak, roots deep in the ground. Immoveable. When I make my mind up about something, I see it through. And my mind was made up last night. I want—”
“To get to know me,” Elliot finished for him, hands on hips, frowning.
“Yes, but more than that.”
“You want to be my friend.”
“More than that.”
“My best friend?”
Wentworth shook his head.
Elliot froze and whispered, “My boyfriend?”
Wentworth paused, and again shook his head. Elliot wrung out a relieved breath. Electricity shot around his body at the mere thought of being Wentworth’s boyfriend. Unbearable.
Yes, unbearable. But . . . Also thrilling?
Wentworth met Elliot’s eye. “I want to be your husband.”
Purchase Elliot, Song of the Soulmate from:
The Love, Austen Series:
I'm a big, BIG fan of slow-burn romances. I love to read and write stories with characters who slowly fall in love.
Some of my 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.
I write a variety of stories, Contemporary MM Romances with a good dollop of emotion, Contemporary lighthearted MM Romances, and even a splash of fantasy.
My books have been translated into German, Italian, French, Spanish, and Thai.
Places to find Anyta Sunday:
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