検索キーワード： ナレーター "Andi Arndt" すべてのカテゴリー

It didn’t matter that the ref called it a clean hit. Nico Hunter would never be the same. Elle has a good life. A job she loves, a great apartment, and the guy she’s been dating for more than two years is a catch and a half. But it’s boring…and she strives to keep it that way. Too many emotions are dangerous. Her own past is living proof of what can happen when you lose control.

Camilla dreams of the day she can leave her life behind. Saying good-bye to the mother she's never been good enough for, to the bottles there's always money for, to the bills there's never money for - and most of all, to being the help in someone else's dream home. But the scholarship to her new private school that gives her a real chance at a future comes with one big catch: Hunter Beck.

The first time I met Hudson Rothschild was at a wedding. I’d received an unexpected invitation to one of the swankiest venues in the city. Hudson was a groomsman and quite possibly the most gorgeous man I’d ever laid eyes on. He asked me to dance, and our chemistry was off the charts. I knew it wasn’t a good idea to get involved with him, considering the wedding I was at. But our connection was intense, and I was having a great time. Though the fun came to a screeching halt when Hudson figured out I wasn’t who I’d said I was.

Unemployed. Check. Zero prospects. Check. An eviction notice in hand. Check. Life in shambles? Check. Check. Check. Desperate to avoid living on my sister’s couch, I took a job in the one place I shouldn’t. That's where I first saw him. Drew Lawson. Elusive bad boy. Owner of the hottest club in the city. And apparently my new boss.

He’s my brother’s best friend, the hot single dad next door. And one accidental sext later, my massive crush on him is no longer a secret. It’s my own damn fault. I’m 30 years old, for heaven’s sake. I’m a kindergarten teacher and a (reasonably) responsible adult. I should know better than to get tipsy and draft a fake text listing all the dirty things I wish Officer Cole Mitchell would do to me. I wasn’t supposed to hit send. And he wasn’t supposed to see it.

There are a few things you should know about my brother’s roommate. Wolfie Cox is complicated, and incredibly sexy. Unfortunately, he has an impressive stick lodged so far up his ass, he’s about as emotionally available as a chinchilla. Actually, that might be an insult to the chinchilla community. So, naturally, I want to ride him like a bicycle.

Indulge in four bestselling stand-alone romances from number one NYT best-selling author Lauren Blakely in the One Love Collection! Performed by Sebastian York, Andi Arndt, and Zachary Webber!

Richard Ramsey is the guitarist for the world’s hottest new band. Gifted. Charismatic. Hot as sin. Lend your ear, and he’ll steal your heart. Nah, you can’t have his, considering he left it in his hometown years ago. He knows better than going back. But it’s his younger sister’s wedding, and there’s no way he can say no to that. He should have known she would be there, invading his senses and making him thirst and hunger for what he wants most.

Let me list the reasons why dating the sexy, charming pro hockey star is a bad idea: He’s one of my closest friends All our friends are friends. The wounds I’ve got from past relationships go deep. And so do his. We’re both devoutly single -- it’s just safer for the heart that way. But there’s no reason not to bid on the gorgeous, clever athlete at the charity auction this weekend. If I win, it’ll be a "friendsdate."

Deacon was rough on the exterior, but apparently on the inside? Mr. Single-and-Ready-to-Mingle was a baby whisperer. After that night, we became friends. He’d go for coffee runs. Come over to chat. Normal friend stuff. But over time, our conversations ran deeper. We got closer. Until one night we crossed the line.

At one point during the party, Alessandra said, “There’s nothing like a girl’s first love.” I knew she was talking about the first smash hit by my band, 22 Goats. Alessandra said it was the first song she’d heard by us and it “hit her like a ton of bricks”. Ironic, seeing as how I was having the same reaction from being in her presence.

God damn! Charlotte, my ex-girlfriend, had to be here, of all places. At a bachelorette party where I was a stripper, dressed in a cop uniform with pants that suddenly got way too tight. And she had to be so fine. “Ooooh, honey, you’re one big officer,” said a sultry voice behind me as I watched Charlotte in the other room, chatting with the bride.

The first question the cops asked me was if anything out of the ordinary happened to me lately. When I woke up this morning in the room of a mental institution I couldn’t remember a thing - not my name nor how I got there. Not how I left or how I ended up in that interrogation room. The only thing I knew came from the contents inside my bag. A wallet, a student ID, a key that opened an unknown door, and two notebooks. They tell me my name. It matches my IDs. They tell me my story. I shut my eyes and try to piece it together, but can’t.

You ever really think that you'll win the lottery? Meet Mr. Right? How about two Mr. Rights? Somehow the universe is handing me everything I want (except for that lottery part...), and I don't like it. Not one little bit. Because just when you get all your dreams handed to you on a silver platter, that's when an airplane dumps its sewage on your house. Or your mama's diabetes takes a bad turn. Or your mobile phone gets stuck in your hoohaw. (What? It happens...)

Meet the Lancasters. Sexy. Arrogant. Filthy rich.

I have three goals: graduate from an Ivy League university, get into medical school, and follow in my father's well-established footsteps. Everything was going exactly as planned until the local bad boy was delivered to my doorstep. Literally. From the moment we meet, my old life becomes unrecognizable, but I have no regrets. I'm utterly captivated by him. His smirk. His heart. His sharp wit. He pushes me to live, to be wild, to pursue the dream I've always hidden inside.

One night only - that was the deal we made. But one fantastic night had us both changing our minds in the morning. And making plans for another. Until I walked into the office to learn he just bought my company.

The feud between Weston Lockwood and me started at the altar. Only neither of us attended the wedding, and the nuptials happened decades before either of us was born. Our grandfathers had been best friends and business partners, at least up until my grandfather’s wedding day - when his bride-to-be blurted out she couldn’t marry him because she was also in love with Weston‘s grandfather.

Let me just say -- none of this was supposed to happen. I didn't expect the letter to go viral. I didn't think anyone would figure out who Dear Sexy Ex was. And I especially never thought he would find out about it. Yeah, bit of a miscalculation there. But see, I need the money to fund my brand new venture. And Dear Sexy Ex, well, it turns out he needs me to save his business.

Call it superstition, but when a guy bats as hot as Brooks Elliott, you don’t mess with what’s working. And what’s working is him keeping his pants zipped and doing all of his scoring on the field. So when I hear he’s planning to ditch his V-card now that he’s been traded to baseball’s lovable losers - a.k.a. my home team and my reason for living every March through October - I do what any rational, dedicated, obsessed fan would do. I make a plan to stop him. But the thing about stopping him is that it requires spending time with him. Lots. And lots. And lots of time.