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Atlanta, Georgia, 1950–Michael can’t believe his eyes as he watches the man he loves marry a woman from the back row of Mount Zion Baptist Church. When the beautiful couple is pronounced man and wife, he leaves his home in Georgia for the chance of a better life in New York City. Alexander is just trying to exist in Queens, New York. Although his family is aware of his unnatural attraction to men, they adore him. The price of hiding his true identity from the rest of the world leads to a deep and painful loneliness for Alex, even in the bosom of a loving family.

Things are going to get...complicated. This is book 2 (the final book) of the Complicated Hearts Duet. Book 1 must be listened to first.

I’m a rookie, in every sense of the word. But even though I have a wicked crush on the sexy shortstop on my baseball team, I won’t give in to my fantasies about him. I’m here in the majors for the first time to play ball. Not to experience my first time with a man. Trouble is, Declan Steele is sexy, flirty, and now he’s my new workout partner. We’re spending mornings together in the gym, getting to know each other. Our connection is powerful—maybe because we each have our fair share of secrets and scars. Ones we'll both fight to protect.

What do a bookstore owner, a prince, a fashionista and a bodyguard have in common? They’re all about to find their own swoon-worthy romance with a happy ever after. Welcome to Chester Falls, where anything is possible, the cinnamon buns are to die for, and love is always just around the corner.

Jude: Reaching the top of the country music charts brings out the crazy, and there's no one crazier than my ex. Unfortunately, his threats to out me are escalating. Enter the bodyguard of my dreams. I'd probably chafe under his constant presence if his attention to my body wasn't so...ah...thorough. Now I have to worry about outing myself to millions of fans if I can't keep my hands off him in public.

I’ve got a big...ego and an even bigger bank account. That’s pretty much where my bio ends. I don’t need to say anything else. I’ve just sold 99% of women on going home with me. Do I sound like a jerk to you? That’s because I am. It works for me just fine. Or at least it did. Until I met her. Books talk about sparks flying. Screw that. With her, it was like emergency flares mixed with jet fuel. Or maybe just straight up napalm. Only one problem. She wouldn’t tell me her name or her number when she disappeared from the hotel room after the hottest night of my life.