検索キーワード： 制作 "Tantor Media" 風刺

I'm Serafina Lopez, and I'm an astrologer. No, not the airy-fairy type who wears long flowy skirts and enormous hoop earrings—you know, unless I want to. I'm an uber-serious businesswoman. My popular lifestyle app, "Live for you Star Sign," is getting so big, I've just been asked to be a guest on New York's most-watched morning show. This TV segment is going to launch my career into the stratosphere. Imagine my surprise when I show up on set to find out that I'm not the only guest.

When my best friend asks me to test his new dating app, I'm not sure it's a good idea. After all, I'm moving out of the country in six months. What's the point? But he insists it's just to help him out, so I give it a shot. Plus, the mystery of it is kind of fun. There are no photos until you've been talking for thirty days, so it's all about the connection. What I didn't expect was to immediately hit it off with a bookish charmer on the app at the same time as someone pretty similar in real life. Two women? Why couldn't this happen when I wasn't about to leave?

Amy Thomas is in the running to become CEO of First Comes Love. All she has to do is outmatch her conniving coworker. Maintaining her perfect matchmaking track record should be no problem, especially since her client is a hot Marine with bulging biceps and a killer smile.

We've all been there. One minute, you're sprawled out on your bed, minding our own business, and the next, you're lying in the back seat of your best friend's car as she races you to the ER. And not the closest one either. No. You're headed to the one 50 miles farther out, because the one five minutes away is where you start your residency next week. So there you are, lying in cubicle nine, hoping like hell that the doctor about to examine you isn't young, sexy, or male. Of course, he's all three. 

According to Max Disher, an ambitious young black man in 1930s New York, someone of his race has only three alternatives: "Get out, get white, or get along." Incapable of getting out and unhappy with getting along, Max leaps at the remaining possibility. Thanks to a certain Dr. Junius Crookman and his mysterious process, Max and other eager clients develop bleached skin that permits them to enter previously forbidden territory. What they discover in white society, however, gives them second thoughts.

They call him the Anaconda, and I'm pretty sure it isn't because he likes snakes. Nick Jenson is my neighbor. My hot, oh-so-sexy, very-well-equipped neighbor that I'd spend hours watching from the safety of my bedroom window. I saw lots of things I probably shouldn't have. Sometimes I'd touch myself, imagining it were his hands roaming over my body instead of my own. I had just one mission - to find out if the rumors were true.  

Saki has always followed the Blossom girls' house rules: Thou shalt prank the Dudes, thy beautiful fraternity neighbors, all day, every day; thou shalt not lose thy heart to them: no fraternizing with the arch-frat-enemy.  Easy enough, right? Minor complication one: Saki gets warm all over whenever she sees Picasso, the dark-haired, hyper-sensual painting student with bright grey eyes, over there in the Dude den. Minor complications two through five: Picasso is head-over-heels for Saki, has an obsessive personality, and craves working her up. He brushes up against her.

Ben Riggs says he loves me. He says he hasn't stopped thinking about me since he broke my heart and chased me out of town all those years ago. I say, liar liar pants on fire. And boy, do those bright yellow, flame-resistant fireman pants look good on him. I'm aching to feel those big, rough hands clenching on my hips and to collect on the illicit promises burning in his dark blue eyes. Self-control goes up in flames every time he flashes that arrogant smile. So I give in - because a woman has needs. (Am I right, ladies?) He can have my body, but my heart is off-limits. 

After the death of his fiancee due to medical errors, hospital pharmacist Daniel O'Dwyer escapes to Oak Island, North Carolina. The only things on his mind are fresh sea air, fresh seafood, Fat Tire Amber Ale, and the avoidance of any type of healthcare institution. But fate and jellyfish draw him back, and reluctantly, he agrees to go undercover to combat narcotic drug diversion at nearby Boiling Grove Community Hospital.  

When Lexi Blake was 12 years old, a fortune teller gave her the following cryptic message: In your 30th year, once the dog jumps over you, your life will change in the most unexpected ways. 

They call me Big Pickle. It's not what you think. (Although that's true, too.) I happen to be the oldest Pickle in the family deli business. And we have the best salami. Take that one however you like. But when my father announces the franchise will go to the most profitable of the three brothers, I learn that even though I'm the eldest Pickle, I'm dead last. I hightail it to Texas to see what's happened to my restaurant, only to find a sassy little spitfire named Nova Strong in charge. She's amazing. She's sexy. She runs our deli like she owns it.

We guarantee this is the only tool you need to survive the zombie apocalypse. Okay, that's not really true. But when the SHTF, you're going to want a survival guide that's not just geared toward day-to-day survival. You'll need one that addresses the essential skills for true nourishment of the human spirit. 

A lost literary gem of Hollywood in the 1930s, I Lost My Girlish Laughter is a thinly veiled send-up of the actors, producers, writers, and directors of the Golden Age of the studio system. 

A sexy rockstar walking into your hotel room sounds like a dream come true. When you're in the middle of some serious self-pleasure like I was, it's a freaking nightmare. It gets worse. What I thought was my room...was actually his. I'd just given last year's hottest new talent a performance worthy of my own Grammy. Now everyone is talking about the girl who got her rocks off in Brix Wilson's hotel room. Nobody knows I'm that girl and it's going to stay that way. It's not like I'm going to run into him again, right? Wrong.

Ninni lives for pranking the crap out of K-Pop. She'd do it with him 24/7 - sorry: Do it to him. As in prank him. Yep, their thing has everything to do with pranks. Nothing to do with an insanity-in-a-bucket attraction. It's not like he's drop-dead gorgeous and has infinite charisma or anything. His brain isn't Donald Duck, Einstein, and Shakespeare in one mischievous swirl either.  

Comic book artist Mike Mason arrives at San Diego Comic-Con seeking sanctuary with other fans and creators - and maybe to reunite with his ex - but when his rival is found murdered, he becomes the prime suspect. To clear his name, Mike will have to navigate every corner of the con, from zombie obstacle courses and cosplay flash mobs to intrusive fans and obsessive collectors, in the process unraveling a dark secret behind one of the industry's most legendary creators.

Jim and Kram are back in their second hilarious romp around their secluded Southeast Alaskan island. With a serial killer at large (a cereal serial killer, to be more accurate), an unlucky entrepreneur with an out-of-control facial tic, and the nephew of a notorious crime boss setting up shop on the island, Lieutenant Jim Wekle will have his work cut out for him.  

Vodka should come with a warning: mixing with karaoke will make you do stupid shit, like sing that song you wrote when you were 14 about the boy who broke your heart. At least he didn't see it. Oh wait. He did. I should've just stayed home. The only reason I came was to stop Lily from doing something stupid, like crash her ex-boyfriend's wedding. When I open my hotel room door to find Adam standing there, that sexy smirk tells me he's hasn't changed. He's still the same arrogant asshole who made my childhood hell.  

Walking into Jake's bachelor party to see my professor motorboating a stripper was awkward. It wouldn't have been so bad if I wasn't completely hot for the guy. I had been since I first walked into that feline anatomy class and saw him performing chest compressions on a Persian cat named Andrew. So, as I sat in that strip club and knocked back my third tequila, I started thinking...I should make a move on him. When our eyes locked over the busty, blonde stripper who was gyrating against me and he smiled, it was all the encouragement I needed. I have no idea what happened next.

Bianca: Pretty things distract me. But in my line of work, a distraction will get you caught - or in my case, blackmailed. But Connor Hayes isn't just furious with me. He's charming. And itching for payback. He doesn't just want my money, though. My hate. My beauty. My body. He requires it all as repayment. Right down to my empty soul. Hayes: Two wrongs don't make a right. Except when they are five-foot-seven and hotter than my exhaust pipe. So, I blackmailed her. It was either that or turn her in. I figured if anyone was going to put her in handcuffs, it was going to be me.