Presley is stuck in neutral and lonelier than ever. When his best friend suggests a support group to work through his grief, Presley agrees but without much hope; nothing has helped before. At the first meeting, he’s instantly attracted to Nate and struggles not to fall so far, so fast. Nate Sherman is only attending a support group to get his family off his back. True, he hasn’t slept through the night in over three years, but he has reasons. Discovering your father — the man you love and idolize — is a liar will do that. No wonder Nate has trust issues.

Carson Ballard isn’t only lactose intolerant—he’s intolerable. No wonder his assistant quit on him without notice. Okay, okay, he has a right to be angry at me for dumping an armful of sticky breakfast plates on his head. It was an accident, I swear. But now I’m out of a job—not that I’m any good at waiting tables—and Carson’s mother is offering to hire me.

Maxwell Thornton isn’t a people person, but that never mattered to him because he’d lived for his job. After losing a patient during an operation, he’s afraid to pick up the scalpel again. He resigns his position in the city and takes a job as sole GP in the isolated town of Rainy Dale, Texas, population 1,001. Rainy Dale is populated with eccentrics who test his patience and seem to think he’s not only there to treat their illnesses, but that he’s also there to be their therapist. When one of his most annoying patients ends up dead in his pool, he has some explaining to do.

It is utter madness for a valet to fall in love with one’s boss. But when that boss is Ignatius Corbridge–my handsome, secretly lonely, utterly wonderful Iggy–one really can’t help it. For decades, I’ve stood by his side, fulfilling my role as his right-hand man, his mentor, his friend. I’ve pressed his suits, arranged his travel, and witnessed a thousand walks of shame as he scratched itch after itch with elite playboys around the globe. Each day, it killed me just a little bit more. So I did what needed to be done for both of us: I quit.

Foxed: to be thrown into a state of uncertainty—flustered, bamboozled, bewildered, puzzled, vexed. A.k.a., me. Jed Marshall. Fifty-five-year-old successful classic-car mechanic; divorced, mostly closeted, and whose wholly inexperienced bisexuality has suddenly awakened after one smoldering look and said, "Damn, who’s the hottie?" Or words to that effect.

Santos “Saint” Cavallero had his life all figured out when he married his high school sweetheart, joined the Navy, and became a SEAL. After years of being deployed, Saint comes home for good, only to discover his wife has fallen for another man. Now divorced and a bodyguard for Four Kings Security, Saint loves his job and his found family. His dating life? A hot mess, until the spark of an unexpected attraction strikes him like lightning, leaving Saint confused. Why is he feeling hot and bothered over the ruggedly handsome Fire Chief?

Justin Molina has secrets. He’s served his time but remains a prisoner of his past, unable to forgive himself for failing his family when they needed him most. Justin’s grief is overwhelming, but he keeps silent and focuses on his goals. About to graduate college, he tries to keep his head above water - no matter how many times life keeps knocking him down. When he’s forced to register for a poetry writing class, Justin discovers putting words to his feelings might be exactly what his fractured heart needs to heal. Or is it the older professor?

When single dad Quinton Jackson gets stopped for speeding, he thinks he’s lost both his freedom and his infant son, who’s in the car he’s been chasing down the highway. Amazingly, State Trooper Wyatt Nelson not only believes him, he radios for help and reunites Quinton with baby Callum.

Between running a garage full of beefed-up gear-head mechanics and bailing my idiot brother out of trouble every other week, the last thing I have time for is a relationship. I’ve tried it too many times, and the ridiculous reasons I always find to end it have become a running joke around the garage. But I’ve learned my lesson. No. More. Boyfriends. I don’t care how many times Porter falls asleep drunk in my bed or how cute he looks covered in oil smears while I teach him how to fix up the vintage car he has rusting away in his garage; I’m not going to fall for him. 

Rowe Prince is a lying liar who windmills into my life in full color, claiming to be Sterling Chase, a quirky, eccentric billionaire…and founder of the company I created. Two can play at the lying game, though, and I’m not about to let some burrito-delivering, floppy-haired virgin from Indiana best me at a game I was born to play.