Résultats de "T.L. Smith" dans Toutes les catégories

A wound to the heart, a hole so deep. Can it be fixed? Or simply replaced? People lie. Those closest to me, tell the most lies. Do they not know who I am? What I'm capable of? Sometimes I wonder if they do. Because when I unravel their lies, they will be delivered to the hell I once visited. And it won't be pleasant.

Cognitive behavior therapy, which has been adapted to treat so many problems, has also brought data-driven and data-yielding treatment to insomnia. Focusing on this evidence-based modality, cognitive behavioral treatment of insomnia (CBT-I) is a much-needed treatment manual that provides clinicians with the whys and hows of this approach in concise and practical terms.

I've worked for men all my life, been enslaved by them. My new boss is different. He buys me designer handbags to ensure I'm on time. But scowls at me when he hands them over. He's intoxicating. Dangerous. All the things I should stay away from. The thing is... when his hands touch mine, I'm not disgusted, and I should be. Because he owns a scandalous club, and I work there…

In the new world, where the old world is long forgotten, an evil queen sits on the throne, and anyone who challenges her reign is a mortal enemy—I am that enemy just by breathing. The queen always gets what she wants, and she wants me dead. Then one day, my life is turned upside down by a prophecy naming me the one true queen. I was oblivious to the true roles of the two men in my life—the Angel of Light and the Angel of Death—as my existence hung in the balance. One man there to save me, the other to claim me should the queen succeed in her quest for my blood.

I couldn't do broken. Broken is what he was. Broken is what I will always be. To his eyes, that held so much despair, I couldn't look for long. To his fist, that clenched so tightly, like he was locking away the sorrow. To his lips, that never uttered a word, from the years of heartbreak. And despite it all, I couldn't stay away from him. It was like he was drowning in an ocean, and I wanted to grab his face, and whisper to his lips, "Don't forget to breathe."

Kisses were covered with lies. Lies were covered with kisses. Hate turned into lust. And lust turned into fantasy. That’s what we were, a fantasy. Nothing more, nothing less. Now it’s time to move on. But how can you when your heart wants to stay stuck in the fantasy? When, even through all the lies and kisses, you still have lust?

He kidnapped me. That was how I met Atlas Hyde - a man known by many names and admired by all. But most don't know he’s ruthless, conniving, and always gets what he wants - no matter the cost. I was a good girl. Never in trouble with the law. Never took drugs. Always did precisely what was expected of me. Even with his hand around my throat and words that cut sharper than knives, I couldn't help but wonder what happened to this beautiful man to make him that way.

"You, Delylah Andrews, agree to marry Korton Whiskey, on the date supplied in the attached contract. In doing so, you will not, by any means, try to break this contract. If you do, the envelope held in escrow will be released to all involved, and you will forfeit your right to the privacy Mr. Whiskey has granted you." I stare at the letter I received attached to the contract in disbelief. A one-night stand who’s now blackmailing me - the daughter of a senator! If he thinks he can extort anything from me with his perversions, he can think again.

This audiobook includes two titles. Distorted Love, book 1: I loved him from the age of 16. Hated him from the age of 18. He disappeared at the age of 19. We started off as enemies, then fast became lovers. But our story isn’t a happily ever after. It was a story of a king and a peasant. Can you guess which I was? Sinister Love, book 2: He was a drug I couldn’t kick. I’d overdosed on him before. It didn’t turn out well. I was stupid enough to let him crack my heart, in hopes we would fall off the same cliff together.

Restaurant Chatatouille serves up delicious Disney goodness as two friends watch the classic Disney movies and give them (and each other) the business!

When a popular podcaster receives a disturbing package in the mail, FBI profiler Victor Loshak heads to Denver to investigate. The grisly contents of the bubble mailer are unlike anything he's seen. Somewhere out there is a victim without a face. Feds swarm the scene. The US Postal Inspection Service tracks down the point of the packages origin.

Beth Chambers's life is no fairytale, even if she feels like a damsel in distress. After four years in a destructive relationship, Beth has decided enough is enough and leaves her girlfriend, taking with her only her dog Dudley, her broken spirit, and a shattered view of life. At her lowest point, she meets Amy Fletcher, a woman who has it all—and from whom she believes would never want more than friendship. What Beth fails to realize is that there are definitely two sides to every story. Could Amy Fletcher be Beth's Princess Charming? Could her story end with a happily ever after?

We are a people of stories. We use them to entertain, to teach, and to instruct. Sometimes they warn us of the dangers of wandering too far into the woods, or they can be a detailed story to explain how magnificent landscapes came to be. Story has always been the way we pass time, the way we connect to each other, and most importantly, how we promote our values. Parables, especially, have a dual purpose. Not only do they keep us entertained, but they also make a point. Consider Aesop’s fables—tales of talking animals who learn valuable life lessons.

He slips through the unlocked window. Creeps down the hall. A shadow standing in the bedroom doorway. Will you wake when death comes ripping? A string of brutal home invasion murders terrifies Dade County, Florida. The killer strikes in the dead of the night, savages innocent people in their beds, wipes out entire families. He attacks at random. Rich. Poor. Young. Old. No one is safe. When the city sleeps, he comes alive. Stalks the night. Walks among us.

A provocative look at the remarkable contributions of high-skill immigrant entrepreneurs in America.

A mass-shooter rages through Chicago in the days after Christmas. Brutal. Efficient. He etches a path of destruction through the city. Shooting up the mall. Opening fire in traffic. Rampaging through a movie theater. That's just his opening act. FBI profiler Victor Loshak heads to the windy city to investigate and finds himself swept up in a frenzied manhunt.

Some conspiracy theories turn out to be true. FBI profiler Victor Loshak works a brutal murder case in Watertown, New York - a woman found strangled in her basement, her face gone purple and baggy. But as he sifts through the crime scene details, his mind keeps drifting back to Kansas City, his last job. The human trafficking case there ended in something of a cliffhanger, and it's a loose end that everyone else in law enforcement seems in no hurry to tie up. The truth is out there. Always just out of reach.

Some secrets don’t stay buried. Three elaborately staged victims. No clues. A public verging on panic. FBI profiler Victor Loshak heads to Kansas City to hunt another serial killer. But something about this case is all wrong. The three corpses lie posed. Face up. A glove laid to cover each right eye. The victims seem to be selected at random. Suburban. Upper middle class. Squeaky clean. It doesn’t make sense. A piece is missing from this puzzle.

He slips through the unlocked window. Creeps down the hall. A shadow standing in the bedroom doorway. Will you wake when death comes ripping? A string of brutal home invasion murders terrifies Dade County, Florida. The killer strikes in the dead of the night, savages innocent people in their beds, wipes out entire families. He attacks at random. Rich. Poor. Young. Old. No one is safe. When the city sleeps, he comes alive. Stalks the night. Walks among us.

To break a heart is easy. All you have to do is reach in, wrap your blood-covered hands around it, and pull. This happened to me. Two hands, both red as my hair, did this exact thing. Tore it away like it wasn't made for me. Maybe it was his to take? Because years on, with those same blood-red hands, he still has it. In his clenched fists. And he won't give it back. But the real question is, do I want it back? He is dangerous, uncontrollable, and downright sexy. I fell for it all, but, in the end, he didn't catch me. He let me fall.