Blake Motel Myrtle Beach Sc Novels & Stories

Blake felt the warmth friendly atmosphere the Crescent moon offered. They nodded as they passed and vowed as they glanced over at the SUV seeing Blake and Selene inside. He looked over, grasping Selene's hand and gripping it tight. She smiled back at him, she felt so proud of the respectful aura he gave around everyone. The car stopped in front of the pack house, it was a massive mansion, with three stories high, huge glass windows all around, and ship lap walls in a gray and white tone. It was quite marvelous to look at, but Selene had to admit, their pack house was much more beautiful.

Blake’s jet landed at Portland International Jetport at two p.m. From there he had hired a driver. The black town-car pulled up outside of 2838 Atlantic Drive. It was exactly how Robinson described it. The townhouse was three levels with two doors in the front with a white painted porch. The townhouse was painted pale yellow. The driver opened the door for Blake to get out. As Blake walked to the townhome, he noticed a light skinned black man sitting on the porch.

“Good.” “See you at seven,” Blake informed me. I thought of the run-down hotel where I was staying and said, “How about I meet you there?” “Sandra. I’m picking you up,” Blake replied firmly. “But… you don’t know my address,” I tried. “You’re staying at the Radisson.” Blake’s phone began to ring. “But, I’m not–” I began to explain.

The Brit and Blakeney chuckled behind his back. There was absolutely no way that the group would have made it to Savannah in anything resembling a decent hour. After all, they had left in the late afternoon. So, as the big, black Suburban crossed into South Carolina, Blakeney decided to pull of the interstate to find a motel. Even though they were currently in some no-name town, directly off the exit a sign for Motel 6 blazed loud and proud. Never fails, thought James. Where there was an interstate, there was a small, chain motel.