Made For You by Anyta Sunday
Series: Love & Family #2
Publisher: Anyta Sunday (self-published)
Release Date (Print & Ebook):
May 1st 2019
Subgenre: Contemporary gay romance, friends-to-lovers, age gap (May-December)
Ben wants to find a new home.
Twenty-four-year-old Ben McCormick is the primary caregiver for his brother Milo after their parent’s death. A year into the job, he’s totally got the hang of it. Mostly. Sort of. Not at all?
Defeated and thoroughly chastised for his lack in parenting skills at teacher-parent night, Ben slumps away with the resolve to finally get his life sorted: be a better role model, and sell their parents’ house for a fresh start.
But first, he needs to spruce up his house to hit the market. He’s no DIY king, but Milo’s hot-as-hell woodwork teacher is…
Jack wants an old home to fix.
Thirty-nine-year-old Jack Pecker is waiting for the home of his dreams to come on the market in the summer. What better way to wait the interim months than working on a small renovation gig?
Only trouble is, the gig is for the McCormick brothers. And working in close quarters to red-haired Ben McCormick won’t be easy. Not with the attraction that simmers between them. Attraction Ben makes no effort to hide.
But Jack’s professional. Dating a parent is highly discouraged at Kresley Intermediate, and he’d never cross the lines…
Ben and Jack. Two guys searching for a home – a home that might just be where their hearts lead them.
~ – ~ – ~
Set in New Zealand, Made For You (Love & Family #2) is an MM gay romance featuring two guys at very different places in their lives – but both finding out they are looking for the same thing.
Can be read as a standalone.
Tropes: friends-to-lovers, slow burn, age gap, found family
Genre: New Adult, light-hearted contemporary gay romance
Teasers for Release Blitz:
Teaser 1 – Ben:
Where the hell is Block C?
I stall in the middle of a quiet quad, my stomach knotting, and unknotting, and knotting again. I’m already five minutes late, and I have no clue where I’m going. Like, I recognize half the buildings from when I went to Kresley Intermediate. The layout’s the same, but Block C? I didn’t even know there was a Block C.
Jesus, and it’s quiet. Have I got the wrong evening? Or have all the other parents arrived on time like responsible adults?
I breathe in a salty sea breeze and wish I were one of the seagulls circling overhead, that I could better find the block I’m meant to be in.
Mrs. Devon’s going to kick my ass. Unless she’s softened with age?
Maybe she’ll cut me some slack when I explain my car stalled up the hill and I had to drive in neutral—and terror—all the way here.
I can only hope.
What was my best bet? The longer block of brightly painted buildings? Or the shorter, taller block?
Looked like more lights were on in the taller block.
A path winds around a semi-cordoned off grassy-stretch, but I dash over the boggy grass. I’ll take every saved minute I can—
My foot skids through a slick patch, and I’m whipped onto my ass with a wet, heavy slap. I brace my hands against the cold ground, weeds and sludge slurping between my fingers.
With a shaky laugh, I push myself to my feet.
Some days sure are tests of fortitude.
“Shortcuts never end well.”
I whirl around. A dozen yards away, a male figure is casually leaning over a ramp leading to the craft rooms. The setting sun behind the building makes it difficult to see much.
I wipe the globs of mud from my good jeans. “You don’t say.”
Teaser 2 – Jack:
I study Ben McCormick. He must be a decade older than Milo, at least, and I’d guess a dozen years younger than myself. He’s tall, almost my height, but carries the leanness of a guy in his twenties. His muddy clothes stick to him, showing off an enviable frame. His hair is possibly the brightest ginger I’ve seen in my life, but the shock of color is tempered by dark eyes. Eyes that fasten to my jaw, weighted with emotion.
He shivers in the chilling night. The cold bites through my dry clothes. Can only imagine he must be freezing in his damp ones.
“Milo is a good kid.” There’s more to bring up, but first things first. “I’m out a set of jumper cables. I’ll taxi you home if you like?”
Ben sighs. “Thank fuck I didn’t have to beg.” He throws me a look as he snaps down the bonnet. “You had me on my toes a minute there.” He sidles past me, and I get a lungful of his clean scent.
I take a quick step back.
He retrieves a six-pack of Fanta from the back seat of his car and I lead him to the truck. “Where to?”
“Wainui?” That was a good hour from here.
A small—very small—spark hits his eyes. “I’m shitting with you. I’m in Berhampore, five minutes over the hill.”
He jumps into the truck. His fingers are trembling as he plants the soda between us and belts up—and I’m not convinced it’s all to do with the cold.
When I return, Milo has turned around, finally facing Ben. “I don’t want you to sell the house.”
“Look, it won’t happen immediately. But it will happen.”
“It’s not fair.”
“Not got the memo yet, bucko? Life isn’t fair.”
They stare at each other. I don’t want to break their moment, but a twig snaps underfoot.
Milo spots me and his body jerks with surprise. “Mr. Woodpecker?”
I cut Ben a look, and he pauses to smirk before turning his chin toward Milo. I think he might tell him to cut that shit out.
“Mr. Woodpecker holds your Fanta ransom.”
I’m close to putting an end to this stand-off and barking orders. If Milo were my kid, I’d have his ass in bed by now, no media for a fortnight.
Not my kid. Not my kid.
Ben reads my face and his expression shutters. “Fuck. We’re pissing off your teacher. How much will it take to get you down?”
He pulls a wallet from his back pocket.
“Fifty,” Milo hollers.
This is not actually happening. Ben’s parenting is unorthodox at best.
“Thirty-five, and not a dollar less.”
“Fifteen, and you shower before bed.”
Milo leans over the edge and reins in his shout. “Do I have to do my hair?”
Ben looks like he’s about to give into a frustrated laugh. The poor guy is damp and muddy and miserable, and Milo needs to quit it.
I catch Milo’s gaze and hold it. It might not be my place, but I have to do something for Ben. My voice is steady and commanding. “Get your butt down here, boy. Or I’ll have you cleaning the class bins all week.”
“Fine. Fifteen bucks. I’ll do my hair.” He lowers a ladder and I brace the shitty thing as he climbs down.
Ben crowds close behind me, a block of warmth at my back. He lets out a breathy ‘thank fuck’ at my nape that feels a lot like brushing up against an electric line that definitely shouldn’t be crossed.
About Anyta Sunday:
A bit about me: 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 angst, Contemporary lighthearted MM Romances, and even a splash of fantasy.
My books have been translated into German, Italian, French, Spanish, and Thai.
Connect with Anyta:
Author website: http://www.anytasunday.com/
Author newsletter signup: http://www.anytasunday.com/newsletter-free-e-book/