Book Him Novels & Stories

Some of them quickly asked, “Chester, how did you manage to book the Gold Room? Did you get someone to help you out?” Chester replied arrogantly, “Why would I need to ask for anyone’s help if I want to book a Gold Room? To put it bluntly, if I want to book a room here, I can always get the room I want whenever I want to!” After he was done speaking, Chester continued explaining, “To tell you the truth, I’m a regular customer of The Heaven Springs. I come here for dinner very often. Besides that, I’m also a close friend of Don Albert. Therefore, as long as I want to book any rooms below the Diamond level, all the rooms at The Heaven Springs will always be open for me at any time!”

“unlucky contestants…shelf two, book thirteen.” It sounded oddly like a personal note. My curiosity won out and I skimmed my fingers along the spines of the books until I chose one at random. I pulled out a medium-sized book, a deep shade of navy blue. Earthen twine was wrapped around the book, and there was a picture on the front. A middle-aged man with chocolate hair and dark eyes smiled up at me. The cover of the book read, “Arthur Zimmerman, Game 71.

“Choked on air.” Aislen smirked. Their turn came and the receptionist looked up expectantly as they leaned over the counter. “Baby Book?” “There’s a book?” Aislen blinked. “I have a book,” Heath said, frowning. “About babies.” “The one your GP gives you,” the receptionist was patient. “Your GP did give you a Baby Book didn’t they?” Aislen shook her head. The receptionist nodded wearily and reached under the desk producing a blue diary. “This your first appointment?” She asked opening the diary.

I'd already turned on the overhead light and opened my book. "Just fine," I answered. I smiled briefly at him, then turned my attention back to the medical book I am reading before attending the conference. I'm sort of shy anyway and that night I am depressed and frustrated about this cocky footballer and not really in the mood for conversation. My uncommunicative nature to strangers didn't deter him. Soon we were talking as if we were old friends. His name is Ashoton or is it Asher ? and he was a traveling representative for a big financial services company. He sold mutual funds and other investment

It said 2016 somewhere in the first few pages, but it was the only one Angela could find in the office. "I don't get why this couldn't be a video call," Mark grumbled and opened the book again. It was his tenth time trying to make sense of the wiggly lines intersecting all over the page. Levi nodded his agreement. He also wished it could have been a video call. The idea of being late for the team building tomorrow because they were stuck in the back of beyond did not sit well with him. But the old fogey had never heard of Skype or Zoom and teaching him how to set up either would have taken longer than their overnight trip.

Dean moved next to her, placing an arm around her shoulders as his breathing became more complex and his chest tingled. “Damn it!” Ben stood abruptly from his chair as the screen went black. A moment later, the phone rang, and Dean immediately picked up the receiver. “The money tomorrow night at the agreed place,” the robotic voice demanded. “That’s impossible,” Dean replied. “It’s Saturday. The banks are closed. There is no way we can get the money by then.” Dean countered. “One million by midnight Monday.” “Two million by Midnight Tuesday.” “Agreed,” the voice replied.

He brings a huge book in a cover and opens it up in front of me. There are pictures of various office locations, various properties all over the world. There are schedules, plane travel arrangements, years ahead worth of planning, banquets, official visits, prominent names of celebrities, politicians. This guy plans every single moment of every single day years ahead. Great job at being late, Emma I think to myself.

I'm reaching the end of my first drink and quickly realizing this is a bust. As I contemplate leaving, someone sits in the empty stool beside me. "Hi," a voice says, and I look over to see a guy smiling at me. "Can I buy you another drink?" I hesitate, not sure if I should go or stay. He's cute, I suppose, but not my normal type. A little stocky, he has thick arms and light brown hair. But his blue-gray eyes draw me in because they seem to hold a twinkle.

Back at the mansion, Emily stepped out of the car, exhausted. Her phone buzzed. She answered. "Hello?" "Hello. Is this House of Ever?" The voice was male. Unfamiliar. "Yes. How can I help you?" "I'd like to discuss branding strategies for my five-star restaurant." "You can book an appointment through the email on our site—" "I already did. I'll be there tomorrow afternoon." Emily frowned. "Okay…" Why call if he'd already booked? "Goodnight, Mrs. Everson." He hung up.

Nobody believes him. If you like this book, please add it to your Library so you never miss an update!