Black Male Audiobook narator

Chapter 1 11:45 p.m., Friday night, inside a radio station atop the Empire State Building in Manhattan’s entertainment district, Alan Corley sat alone in the dimly lit sound booth. The six-foot-tall, thirty-five-year-old African American reflected in the tinted glass of the adjacent control room, illuminated by the multicolored lights of the track board. “You’re listening to WGLI 99.1 FM. This is Late Night with the Love Lawyer. Next caller, please,” Alan spoke smoothly into the microphone. “Hi, this is Sean from Atlanta,” a male voice came over the airwaves. “ATL, what’s on your mind?” Alan asked, adjusting his headphones. “Well, it’s like this. There’s this girl I’ve wanted for a long time—since high school. I finally got her, but no matter what I do, it’s not appreciated. It’s like the better I treat her, the worse she treats me, and—” “Stop right there!” Alan cut in abruptly. “I see on my screen you’re twenty-nine years old. That means you’ve desired this woman for almost eleven years. Let me guess—she has at least two kids, plus that pretty face and big booty you’ve always wanted. Am I correct?” “Yes. Exactly. How did you know?” the caller asked, stunned by Alan’s almost uncanny perception. “How I know isn’t the issue. What you need to know is who you are to her,” Alan replied. “And who am I to her?” the caller asked, his voice tightening. “You, my good sir, are the cleanup man,” Alan said coldly. “You see, the bad-boy types have attracted women like this their entire lives. After a few kids and heartbreaks, they go looking for beta simps like you—the steady Eddie, the stable, able man to foot the bill for their poor decisions. But understand this—she doesn’t want you; she wants what you can do for her.” “You’re right. I guess I’ve been lying to myself. What should I do?” the caller asked, his voice wavering. “You need to get my book. Read chapter four—and run like hell,” Alan said bluntly before ending the call. Alan took a sip of warm tea and glanced at the prompter. “Our next caller is Sheila from Chicago. What’s on your mind, miss?” “Hi, Love Lawyer. I’m an attractive single woman. I have four kids, and I’m having a hard time finding the right guy,” she said, her voice edged with desperation. “How many kids did you say you have?” Alan asked. “Four.” “Lady, you don’t need a man—you need a babysitter!” Alan shot back, ending the call. Phillip, the head technician, burst out laughing as he cued up the next caller. “Our next caller is from around the way. Laqueta from Brooklyn—talk to me,” Alan said. “Well, I just bought and read your book, and it’s not all that. Who in the hell are you to be giving people advice and talking to women like that?” she snapped, her voice laced with attitude. “I’ll wager you’re overweight—and most likely divorced?” “What the hell? Are you serious? And no, I’m not fat. I’m thick. And I don’t have problems getting any man I want.” ‘Thick’ is just another word for fat in the right places. And I’m sure you can find plenty of men to take you to the local three-hour smash-and-dash, but a steady man? That you don’t have,” Alan said bluntly.