Sundown Motel Book Novels & Stories

*** Phil *** It was past four PM, and Phil had little to do. He decided to take another short break outside the supermarket. His 'cozy' motel room was only three minutes' drive from here. Maybe he should walk there, he thought. He had to leave the motel earlier than he wanted because of work, so he hadn't seen Solana all afternoon - she was the reason he was staying there for the next twelve hours.

This is his second shot on finding whatever the hell happened twelve years ago, he is not about to let go to waste. Sebastian stares at the motel feeling a little less like home but that is all he can manage for now. On the outside of it stands a group of girls dressed in summer dress, and high boots. A few meters to their right are some bikers forever in their dirty sleeveless tops and leather trousers. Their indistinct long dusty beards force them to stand out from the rest of the crowd making their way past the motel. Sebastian feels the need to double check the lock of his car before making his way towards the building. The building is a small one with a flashy signpost and motel visibl

The neon sign of the Desert Sands Motel flickered a dying rhythm against the California border sky. It smelled of sagebrush, asphalt and a storm. We had been driving for three hours on roads avoiding major highways until the Maybachs fuel gauge was almost empty. "Get his legs " I said, my voice cutting through the dark cabin. Sarah grabbed my fathers ankles while I held his body pulling him out of the seat. He groaned, a sound, his eyes rolling back. We dragged him across the walkway past the rusted ice machine and into Room 114 of the motel.

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.

unreliable. "I didn't know the downtown was so close to such a colony." My voice was softer than before. There were barely any people around, except for us four. That was until Jacob Fenris met up with a mob...right outside of an eerie-looking motel. The hunks looked exactly like they'd say in the movies. Huge, tattooed and an unsettling aura around them. Their gazes filled with venom, potent enough to poison even the most saintly of them all. "This is bad," he muttered, knowing something.

"Dawson’s at a motel. Outskirts of town." I was already grabbing my jacket. "Then let’s go." The drive was quiet. Dark roads. No streetlights. Just the hum of the car and the weight in my chest. Kyle pulled up in front of a run-down motel. It looked like hell. Peeling paint. Flickering neon sign. Smelled like cigarettes and bad decisions. "Room 206," Kyle muttered. We got out, walked up the rusted stairs. Stopped at the door. Kyle knocked once. Twice.

But nothing would ever be home again. By the time the first pale light of morning broke across the horizon, I pulled into the gravel parking lot of a cheap roadside motel at the edge of the city. The sign out front blinked in and out—“Rooms by the week. Cash only. No ID required.” The kind of place people used when they didn’t want to be found. Perfect.

Thomas had been playing his little game for months, taunting Sofia, claiming her while I had no damn clue. That ended tonight. Jude was about to tell me everything. One way or another. The motel was a rundown excuse for a building, the kind of place where people checked in to disappear. Dim neon lights flickered over the cracked pavement as we pulled up, my men fanning out instantly. I stalked toward Room 206, my gun drawn, my jaw tight. One of my men kicked the door open, and we stormed inside. The room reeked of cheap perfume and cigarette smoke. Empty bottles littered the nightstand. But Jude?

It was a temporary one, just for the trip. There, on the screen, was a message timestamped 12:15 AM. Damon wrote, [Stay sharp. Once we get through the pass, we'll be in the clear. I'll drive the second half. If that girl's still out of it, just let her sleep through the whole thing. Can't expect her to be any help. She's dead weight.]

DOWNTOWN I On an outer edge of St. Charles, just before the downtown area thinned toward the outskirts, the flickering neon sign of the King’s Motel burned against the night. For Anne, cheap rooms were the motel’s prime selling point. She had almost two hundred dollars in cash left. The mustached man behind the counter, whose name tag read Mike, pretended not to see her at first. She stood waiting for almost a minute before he raised his head to regard her for an expressionless moment.