Book It Hotel Novels & Stories

She huffed "what if you walk into Cassian's trap?" I smiled, "I'll be the one laying the trap this time around" "Not as you think Mariah, Cassian as you know is very intelligent" Ariana said. "I know, I'll just be careful" I assured her. She tried talking me out about it but I didn't paid attention to her advise. Without hesitating, I search on the internet for few high-class hotels in California and soon, I booked a room at Single Thread Hotel located in Healdsburg, Sonoma County.

July 5th, 1998. A rundown hotel in the middle of nowhere. Creaking stairs and molding books, nails sticking from the floorboards leading to the basement and dust covering shelves head to toe. Two maids and one person sitting idly at the counter of the hotel. Shelves for keys, locked behind small cupboards. The man at the counter quaintly reading his book, flipping each page, some stained in oil. One of the maids sitting idly on one of the old ripped up couches with a rat in her hands, slowly petting it with a bored expression melted on her face. The other made robotically cleaning what she could by herself, not even breaking a sweat in the hundred-degree weather.

Anna Pov I walked into the big building in front of me, The hotel looks expensive from the exterior Rumour had it that the hotel is owned by a Twenty four year old man. How could someone as young as that own a big hotel like this whereas I've been living in poverty since all these years? I chuckled sadly before walking into the main building. One of the security stopped me immediately I entered. He checked out my body lustfully and I almost got irritated. I pulled my long hair back and walked closer to the receptionist " Good Afternoon ma'am " " Hello, Welcome to G hotels and resorts, We have lots of rooms available for you, Depending on your budget, The classic , Exclusive rooms, Mono.... "

"Bellevue Hotel. How may I assist you today?" "Good morning." "This is August Thorne." "My company booked rooms at your hotel about three months ago." "I'd like to confirm something." "Certainly, sir." I heard the rapid clicking of a keyboard. A few seconds later she spoke again. "Yes, Mr. Thorne. I found your booking and stay details, I hope you enjoyed your time here." "Were all the charges billed to Thorne Automotive Group?" "Yes, sir." "How many rooms were booked?" Another pause.

Mama’s long, hard gazes at the interior of the hotel seemed to anger her further, we could all hear it when she cleared her throat speaking up in a dry raspy tone, “let me guess, you booked this here hotel to piss me off and cause me to have a nervous breakdown too?” In confusion Isa replied, “no Mama; Edily made the reservations so you know this isn’t a five-star hotel it just looks expensive in here that’s all.” “Whatever, this place just brings back old memories altogether.” I didn’t understand Mama’s level of annoyance with the hotel. I called myself keeping it simple by

It moves only slowly, the contents weighing it down. What's inside? I try again, digging in with my nails, trying to bite into the semi-hard surface. I find myself envying the long nails of my 'cousin'; Beth; her hands soft and white, the nails elegant... painted and shaped... sharp... My stubby excuses-for-nails barely make an imprint on the tough cardboard. Breathe... Don't panic... Try again... ***** Klempner The hotel is cheap and unremarkable. The kind in fact where they rent rooms by the hour and don't ask for your ID. Well off the central tourist areas, it is manned by the kind of indifferent staff who don't even look up as they book me in.

I weaved through the crowd, hips brushing strangers, until I hit the front desk, where a bored looking receptionist chewed gum and scrolled her phone. “Room,” I said, voice rough, slapping my card on the counter. “Now.” She didn’t blink, just ran the card, handed me a keycard, and pointed to the stairs. “Second floor, 214.” I nodded, ready to move, but then my eyes caught a glossy booklet on the counter, pages open to photos of men and women, all chiseled jaws and curves, names and stats listed like a menu. I frowned, glanced at her. “These for bookings?”

"We booked thirty private suites specifically for this athletic team three months ago!" I stood quietly near the back of the exhausted crowd, my stomach violently twisting with a deep, highly suspicious dread. A booking error at an elite, highly organized hotel located directly inside Victoria Ashford’s home territory felt exactly like a deliberate, highly calculated act of political sabotage designed specifically to inconvenience and disrespect the Southern Alpha heir.

For a moment, she blinks, and then immediately plasters a smile on her face before standing up. “Hello, welcome to the Daisy Days motel. My name is Debbie! What can I do for you fine gentlemen tonight?” she asks, and I feel a sense of relief. Debbie seems normal enough. Maybe this place didn't have any murderers after all. “Hi, we'd like to book a room for the night, please,” I say. “Yes, yes, of course, right away!” Debbie bustles around the cupboards until she pulls out a thick book and slams it on the table. The book is quite dusty as if it's been sitting in a corner for a long time.

What distinguishes, this hotel is smaller than its parent. At the hotel, Kacey booked a room for two people. Because I'm used to sharing a room, I'm no longer awkward. Kacey too. You see, her attitude lately has trusted me. It's not like Kacey's attitude when I first invited her to Bacchanalia. At that time, she still had doubts. Like at Hotel Copacabana, Brazil, we were helped by a bell boy to carry our luggage up to our room. Kacey thanks and gives him a tip.