I just know what I like.A powerful billionaire in a suit wasn’t even my first choice. McAllister Stonewall was never on my radar, I didn’t even know he existed.But I do now.His hands are all over me at work. The heat of his chest pressing against my bare back as he bends me over the desk is the only thing on my mind.He is my most forbidden desires unleashed. He is my new secret obsession. He is my Mr. Perfect.Until the moment I realize… There’s no such thing as perfect.

    Sexy Stranger is more appealing. And when he speaks—in that British accent—it’s a done deal. Every American woman has a hot British guy fantasy. Well, most do. I haven't taken a poll or anything, but I’m pretty sure it’s a fact.  Except… You know that saying about best-laid plans? Good, because I don’t either, but I assume they go awry.Like my one night stand…

    But this is no ordinary castle. It’s called Heartstone Psychiatric hospital and it houses forty other patients. It has nurses with mean faces and techs with permanent frowns.It has a man, as well. A man who is cold and distant. Whose voice drips with authority. And whose piercing gray eyes hide secrets, and maybe linger on her face a second too long. Willow isn’t supposed to look deep into those eyes. She isn’t supposed to try to read his tightly leashed emotions. And neither is she supposed to touch herself at night, imagining his powerful voice and that cold but beautiful face.No, Willow Taylor shouldn’t be attracted to Simon Blackwood, at all. Because she’s a patient and he’s her doctor. Her psychiatrist. The medicine man. WARNING: This book discusses sensitive issues including but not limited to, depression and suicide.

    Yeah, that Barrett Callahan—the one the press dubbed “Bare” after those naked sexting pictures surfaced. At twenty-five, I was armed with an MBA from Harvard, an executive position at my father’s Fortune 500 company, a penthouse, and a different piece of delectable eye candy in my bed every weekend. I had a life most men dreamed of. But then my father decided to run for president, and my playboy lifestyle became a liability to his campaign that was built on family values. My “makeover” comes in the form of a fake fiancée who I don't even get to choose--one who is an uptight, choirgirl acting priss but also sexy-as-hell. AddisonMy latest relationship had gone down in flames, and I was drowning in a sea of student loans when in true Godfather status, James Callahan made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. Seven figures for seven months on the campaign trail pretending to be the adoring fiancée of his son, Barrett. As soon as he won the election, our engagement would be dissolved amicably for the press, I was free to ride off into the sunset a million dollars richer, and because of the NDA, no one would be the wiser. Sure, I’d never met the guy, but I’d been a theater nerd in high school. I could pull off any role from Lady Macbeth to Maria Von Trapp. But that was before I met my fake fiancé—the infuriating, self-absorbed, egotistical, drop-dead-sexy King of the Manwhores. The race will be a fight to the death finish, and that’s not even the actual campaign.

    You will know it’s coming, and it will hurt. But you’ll be able to prepare.Someone found him in a laundry basket at the Quick Wash, wrapped in a towel, a few hours old and close to death. They called him Baby Moses when they shared his story on the ten o’clock news – the little baby left in a basket at a dingy Laundromat, born to a crack addict and expected to have all sorts of problems. I imagined the crack baby, Moses, having a giant crack that ran down his body, like he’d been broken at birth. I knew that wasn’t what the term meant, but the image stuck in my mind. Maybe the fact that he was broken drew me to him from the start.It all happened before I was born, and by the time I met Moses and my mom told me all about him, the story was old news and nobody wanted anything to do with him. People love babies, even sick babies. Even crack babies. But babies grow up to be kids, and kids grow up to be teenagers. Nobody wants a messed up teenager.And Moses was messed up. Moses was a law unto himself. But he was also strange and exotic and beautiful. To be with him would change my life in ways I could never have imagined. Maybe I should have stayed away. Maybe I should have listened. My mother warned me. Even Moses warned me. But I didn’t stay away.And so begins a story of pain and promise, of heartache and healing, of life and death. A story of before and after, of new beginnings and never-endings. But most of all...a love story.

    The effect she has on me is intense, and I make her life a living hell because of it.I love her spirit, her internal defiance when completing the most inane task I assign her. My two week stay has turned into unending, just to be near her.She’s under my every command if she wants to keep me happy.There’s one last thing I want.Her.***Welcome to the Cameo Hotel is a stand alone novel***

    A little tomboyish from being raised by her father, Ember packs a punch when a stranger gets pushy with her in a bar, catching the steely blue eyes of a tall, gorgeous tattooed man—Trace Montgomery. Still damaged from her last disastrous relationship and warned off the bad boy by friends, Ember fights the smoldering heat that Trace sparks in her when he begins shadowing her like a dark angel.Burdened by a lifetime of horror and heartbreak, amateur fighter Trace doesn’t want to want Ember. His deep self-loathing keeps him from having any meaningful relationships, but Ember is an itch he can’t scratch. The two push and pull, slowly crumbling their walls, seemingly brought together by fate, because the turmoil that haunts their pasts is interlinked in undeniable ways. But can these two fighters finally lay down their arms?In Beautifully Damaged, L.A. Fiore delves into deep scars and lets love and forgiveness uncover redemption.

    Her lips? Hell yeah. A few other parts of her body? You better f*cking believe it. But her heart? Nope. Not even a little. Until it does…a lot.Forget I said that. I don’t have feelings for anyone. They were all ripped out of me when I was a kid.This thing between Laney and me could be great. But we have to follow certain rules. We have a good time—no dates, no sleepovers, no expectations. When one of us is ready for something new or if she starts getting too attached, we move on with no hard feelings. Win-win, and everybody’s happy.I came into this thinking it would be the same thing as it had always been and that she was like any other woman. It isn’t. She isn’t. But how do I tell her she deserves someone better - someone who can love her, someone who’s not broken - if I can’t seem to let her go? Laney I finally get it. And to think, it only took my heart being pried out of my chest and stomped on five separate times by men who claimed they loved me. That’s got to be a record, right?Let me put it as simply as I can.Fairy tales aren’t real. Love is a lie. And, at least in my experience, sex never comes with a happy ending. Fortunately, I still have a battery-operated boyfriend who’ll never fall out of love with me. I won’t walk in on him in bed with another woman either. Nope. As long as I keep supplying him with fresh batteries, BOB’s only purpose in life is to make me happy. And, damn it, I deserve to be happy. I’m a nice person. I work hard. And, most importantly, I've learned an important lesson: To never, ever let a man near my heart again. Unfortunately, some people never learn.***Be ready for a lot of laughs, a bunch of swoons, and a few tears from this standalone romantic comedy.******DARKER WATER is a standalone contemporary fairytale retelling inspired by The Frog Prince***

    He understands pain. He knows the hand of violence and the ache of loss. He knows what it means to fail those who need you. Being broken doesn’t stop him wanting the one thing he can’t have; Finlay Tanner. Her smile is sweet and her future bright. She’s the girl he grew up with, the girl he loves, the girl he protects from the world, and from himself.At nineteen, Ryan leaves to join the Australian Army. After years of training he becomes an elite SAS soldier and deploys to the Afghanistan war. His patrol undertakes the most dangerous missions a soldier can face. But no matter how far he runs, or how hard he fights, his need for Finlay won’t let go.Returning home after six years, one look is all it takes to know he can’t live without her. But sometimes love isn’t enough to heal what hurts. Sometimes people like him can’t be fixed, and sometimes people like Finlay deserve more than what’s left.This is a story about war and the cost of sacrifice. Where bonds are formed, and friendships found. Where those who are strong, fall hard. Where love is let go, heartache is born, and heroes are made. Where one man learns that the hardest fight of all, is the fight to save himself.

    Or breathe. Or string two coherent thoughts together. And I don’t mean any of that figuratively. I’m not talking about a guy being floored by the sight of a gorgeous woman—although, of course, Lydia is gorgeous beyond words.No, when I first laid eyes on Lydia Decker—my physical therapist—I was lying flat on my back in the ICU, high as a kite on painkillers, breathing on a ventilator, my bones as broken and splintered as my spirit. When I first laid eyes on Lydia Decker, she was a ray of light in the dark. Hope for the hopeless. A salve for my singed and battered soul.She said she’d been assigned to fix me. That she was there to bring me back to life. She said helping me was her calling. And then she touched me. Physically, emotionally, spiritually. She healed me. And I fell in love. But what I didn’t know . . . what I couldn’t possibly know . . . was that Lydia Decker needed fixing far more than I ever did.​​​​​​​NOTE: The Morgan Brothers are a series of five interconnected standalones. Recommended reading order is to start with HERO or CAPTAIN, as book 1, despite series numbering, because both books run on same timeline, alongside each other, and their events happen first in chronology. However, if you do not mind skipping around in time a bit, you can start with any of the Morgan Brothers books, despite series numbering, and fully enjoy it!

    A fairy tale that had girls pretending they were the fairest, the most beautiful, and the most entitled. A fairy tale most couldn’t grow out of turned my haunted childhood memories into a living nightmare. Girls who grew up believing that pile of garbage became the meanest of all ‘mean girls.’And those mean girls were right – it was a line meant for all the beautiful people in the world – and I knew the answer would never be me.The women with long legs, flat stomachs, and perfect chests.The type of women Kane Masters gravitated toward.Well, that’s definitely not Willow Tate.No. That will never be me.Because I’m completely imperfect.And … I hate myself.I have no idea what Kane could possibly see in someone like me when he could have them.

    This hot. This difficult.Aaric Christos was a guy who protected me. Wanted me. Maybe even loved me.That man is gone.In his place is the most powerful real estate tycoon in the city.He’s a cold, ruthless, aggressive businessman.The only one who can save me and my startup from ruin.It takes every ounce of courage to put my pride aside and ask for his help.I didn’t expect him to offer it easily.And he doesn’t.Instead, he vets me harder than he’s vetted anyone.Don’t invest in what you don’t know, he says.He's assessing every piece of me, to the point I've never felt so bare.I yearn for the boy I once knew, whose touch once craved me.Putting it all on the line will be worth it, I tell myself.Until I realize—too late—that some risks are not worth taking.

    That's what they say, but it's easier said than done.How do you expect a change so huge it rocks you to your core?How do you prepare yourself for an event that will alter your life forever?One breathOne secondOne minuteOne hourOne day at a time, you learn to live with your unexpected reality.

    Hard because Harry, her beloved uncle, has died suddenly, but also because of him. Kale.Kale Hunt has been her best friend since childhood. But it was never that simple. He was Lane’s reason for leaving home and moving to New York. Seeing him with someone else, in love with someone else, shouldn’t have hurt. But it did. It really, really did. So she upped sticks and left, started a new life and cut herself off from her past.But now she’s back, and all the feelings are right there. As if she had never left.Emotions are running high for everyone, and tragedy has a funny way of bringing people together. But is Lane reading the signs right? Are they still just friends, or is there something more?

    Except this time, there was no rain, no anger, no wedding invitation — it was just us.It was just him — the old friend, the easy smile, the twisted solace wrapped in a glittering bottle.It was just me — the alcoholic, pretending like I didn’t want to taste him, realizing too quickly that months of being clean didn’t make me crave him any less.But we can’t start here.No, to tell this story right, we need to go back. Back to the beginning.Back to the very first drop.This is my love letter to Whiskey. I only hope he reads it.