Today I am so pleased to welcome Anyta Sunday to Joyfully Jay. Anyta has come to talk to us about her latest release, Love Letters. Please join me in giving her a big welcome!


Hey there, I‘m so happy to be on Joyfully Jay today with my newest book babies! Just a few days ago, on July 31st, I released the first three books in my new sexy, light-hearted contemporary gay romance series “Love Letters”. These books take you to the small town of Greenville and all the gorgeous couples there…

I love how the book covers totally pop (THANK YOU NATASHA SNOW!), and the poppiest of the three is “Challenging Chance”, which is quite fitting given the larger-than-life personality of one Chance Roosevelt-Sutton. But who’s the real Chance? The partying playboy everybody knows, or the sincere and caring friend his PA Brook seems to spot behind the sunglasses? I hope you’ll take a chance on them and find out in “Challenging Chance”!<

As an extra special teaser just for the Joyfully Jay readers I’ve brought a small deleted scene – enjoy some extra time with Chance and Brook!

Have a fantastic summer!

XO, Anyta


Welcome to Greenville. Come for the sexy boys. Stay for the HEA.

“Challenging Chance” deleted scene:

This party won’t help you find a fiancé,” Brook said tightly. He sounded as much against the engagement thing as Chance was. “I should get on to cancelling.”

“Yes. No.”


Chance was just as surprised. His brain caught up with his runaway mouth, albeit slowly. “I don’t know. It’s time I made some changes.”

“What do you mean?” Brook sounded curious. Impressed. Hopeful.

Chance couldn’t ignore that it was encouraging. He continued, “Dad wants me to get a grip on my life. Be a better man. Someone solid, dependable.”

“This party will help you with that, how?”

Chance laughed and raked his hair, hardly believing he was considering this, and knowing it needed doing. “Maybe it’s time I apologize for being such a dick. Maybe it’s time to turn a new leaf.”

* * *

Twenty-eight angry females showed up to the pastry party.

Needless to say, it didn’t last long.

From the corner of the living room, leaning against a windowsill, the night-cooled glass at his back, Brook admired Chance. Admired him for his guts to stand up on the elevated stage they’d rustled together and address the sea of women he’d done wrong by. Admired Chance for every cream-filled pastry plucked off the tables and thrown at him.

Chance admitted to being an asshole for using them. For never calling back. For making promises he never followed through with.

Brook watched with pride and protectiveness—hawk eyed on every woman. Making sure none went too far or hurt too much. One of the woman, he recognized. Someone he’d worked with a few years ago when he was a bartender. She didn’t approach Brook, though. Just frowned, once, like she was trying to place him.

Most women seemed amused and grateful at Chance belittling himself. All left with a satisfied smile.

The only ones who weren’t smiling were Brook and Chance.

Try as he might to shove jealousy aside, Brook couldn’t help wondering what Chance’s future fiancé would look like. The women who came covered the spectrum in height and shape and ethnicity. He didn’t have any discernable ‘type’. Except, they had one chest-seizing similarity.

Almost all of them had short-cropped hair.< It gave Brook the heartbreaking image of Chance fucking his partners from behind. Imagining, perhaps, they were men. “That was painful,” Chance said, staring down at sweet pie mixture that covered him from head to toe.  “Yeah,” Brook said after a tight swallow.  “Not everyone showed. Thankfully. There is one person in that book that I need to apologize to face to face.” Brook pushed off his spot at the window and picked his way through the mess. “Another girl you slept with and never called again?” “A guy. The only guy.” He looked abashedly at Brook. “I hurt him the most. I liked him the most, too.” Brook barely dared to ask. “Someone you want back in your life?” “I caused too much damage for that. But I owe him acknowledgement of what he went through. What I put him through.”>

Chance pinched a pie from the table and held it out on the flat of his palm. The palm with the raw red line where Brook had extracted bits of mirror. This hand and he had history. He was quite fond of it.

“Take it,” Chance said, lifting the pastry to his chin.

Brook looked at the perfectly formed pastry, then over it. Cream frosted Chance’s usually dark hair and ran along the ridge of his firm jaw. “I’d rather lick it off you.”

Chance looked torn between backing up and listing against Brook. Brook took the pastry from him and tongued the tip.

“It’s not for eating,” Chance murmured.

“It’s not? Did you want me to throw it at you?”


“Why do you think so?”

Chance’s gaze flittered to the side as if he were uncomfortable. Chance looked back at him. “I was unreasonably angry with you earlier. About this party. It was my fault—I was testing you. Playing games. Hiding my phone from you didn’t give you a chance. I’m sorry.”

“We both made mistakes. I’m sorry I lied to you.”

Chance nodded. The tension between them thickened, and Brook wanted to reach through it and cradle Chance against him. But emotions were running high; so many things Chance needed to process without Brook pressuring him.

He’d caught Chance’s backpeddle when Brook had softened their kiss during sex. He wasn’t quite there yet.

“I have to get back to Grandma,” Brook said. “Do you want me back tomorrow?”

“Are you double-checking if I fired you?”

“Well, I’m not double-checking if you fucked me.”

Chance laughed, sudden and rich, catching both of them by surprise. A surprise that wrapped Brook like a full-bodied embrace.

“You don’t have to answer tonight.” Brook leaned in and weighted his voice. “But I hope you give me a Chance.”


C is for Chance Roosevelt-Sutton.

Chiseled jaw. Smug attitude. Wild ways.

Chained to his ego—or so everyone thinks. Except his personal assistant, Brook. He knows better.

Chance is challenged to make his father happy for once, but he needs Brook’s help.

Choosing honesty is too risky, so instead they choose secrecy.

Choked by their pasts, they dream of a better life . . . and

Charm each other into submission.

Will their pasts ruin what they have, or will they grow together?

is for Challenging Chance


Feisty. Nerdy. Sexy. Secretive.

Greenville has them all.

A small town with big hearts, Greenville awakens at the mercy of Millionaire Row, the wealthy neighborhood across the tracks from Poplar Low.

Bad-tempered boys meet cheeky lovers.

Colliding worlds spark a fire of emotion. Heat rages. Hearts mend. Love is lost. And found.

Love Letters are playful, sexy, contemporary M/M stories that can be read as standalones.

Welcome to Greenville. Come for the sexy boys. Stay for the HEA.



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, and Thai.

FILED UNDER: Excerpt, Guest Post