Showing results by author "T.L. Smith"

I am loyal, but I will betray you. I am strong, but I have scars. I am an angel, but the devil. I met her when I was 16 and she was a breath of fresh air. She swooped in, making me smile. But then she left, taking my next breath with her. Her smile could light up a room, making my black heart pitter patter. I found her again 10 years later, with a syringe in her arm. Blood coming from between her legs. She was broken and I was glad she was broken. She wouldn't think less of me and my damaged ways.

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.

He wasn't meant to be on my radar; he was definitely the off-limits guy. My brother's best friend, my friend's ex, but most of all he was my boss. Hawk Carnage resembled one thing, and one thing only. Sex. He used it, he knew it, he lived it. Hawk owned the largest lingerie company in the world, and I was his leading lady. In business. But now business and friendship were about to be crossed. The lines blurred, and I was ready to dip my toes in the forbidden water.

Everything changes, in seconds, minutes, hours. I know, it happened to me. It wasn't for the better, it was for the worst. I am broken, no that doesn't sound right, I am chipped. Pieces of me have been chipped so bad that it's impossible to claim them back. Even if I want to, even if it's for her.

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.

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."

A provocative look at the remarkable contributions of high-skill immigrant entrepreneurs in America. Both a revelation and a call-to-action, Immigrant, Inc. explores the uncommon skill and drive of America's new immigrants and their knack for innovation and entrepreneurship.