Sundown Motel Book Novels & Stories

~TORIN~ The motel room smelled like bleach, like someone had tried to sanitize sin and failed. I sat on the edge of the bed with my boots still on, shirt half unbuttoned, phone face-down beside my thigh. The screen stayed dark. No buzz. No new message from Burdock. No update from Rook. No nothing. Silence was supposed to be a gift out here: it wasn’t. It was a dare. Across the room, Surgeon, Mikael Simpson by birth, stood at the window with the curtain cracked two fingers wide, watching the parking lot like the asphalt might offer him a whiskey if he stared at it long enough.

The address led to a small, run-down motel on the edge of the city, the kind of place that existed in the shadows of the skyline without ever being seen by the people who lived beneath it. Nadia parked a block away as agreed, Damian's car following at a careful distance. However, she could still feel his presence like a tether even once she was walking alone toward the flickering number nine painted above a weathered door. Her mother opened it before she could knock, pulling her inside quickly, glancing up and down the empty walkway before shutting the door and throwing the deadbolt.

I suppose that choice was made loud and clear when I transformed into some kind of lunar-dragon-wolf thing and fled the city. We finally reach a small town—the kind with one main street, a gas station, and not much else. On its outskirts sits a motel that's seen better days, its neon sign flickering with several letters burnt out. "Wait here," Maddox says, gesturing to a cluster of vending machines near the office. "And try to look less like you're wearing nothing but a coat." I huddle in the shadows while he approaches the motel office. Through the window, I can see him speaking with a half-asleep clerk, producing cash from somewhere and deliberately keeping the transaction brief. A few min

Therefore, Miguel believed that the second option must be true, and it gave him hope that if they could get hold of this book, the spell it contained would surely help them contact Nadir in the Underworld and get the message across. - We have to find this book, at all costs.- Miguel was talking to himself as he searched the internet for places selling old books, especially on the subject of magic or esotericism. And he really did thought so - for Miguel was ready to get rid of all his savings, if only to get his hands on the book. Additionally, Nadir left behind not only her belongings and clothes, but also quite a lot of money earned while working at the bar. As it was all cash, Miguel gave

Damien slowed his motorcycle beside the flickering neon sign of the old motel before pulling off his helmet and looking up at the building in front of him. Rainwater slid from the edge of his dark jacket while the sound of distant traffic echoed faintly through the narrow streets around East Borough. The motel looked tired, like it had spent years surviving on people who did not want questions asked. Half the windows upstairs were dark while the glowing vacancy sign buzzed softly above the entrance. Damien shoved his helmet beneath his arm and walked inside.

God, I hoped my sister was okay. The location pin Andrea sent led us to a rundown motel in the Bronx. It might have once been painted pink, but now the walls were a muddy brown, mixed with the dirty green and grey of mold crawling up exposed pipes. The parking lot was empty, save for a beat-up Honda with the bumper missing and a bicycle with a knife sticking out of one of the tires. A neon sign in front of the motel read Haven Motel, but several of the letters were burned out, so it glowed as ‘av n M te.’

Rain pelted down in sheets, blinding me as it streamed over my face. Damn it. Was I going to freeze to death out here before Angelo arrived? I lay sprawled in the mud, gasping for air. I fumbled in my pocket until my fingers closed around the phone. The screen lit up, showing it was midnight. Headlights cut through the curtain of rain. A black armored car stopped in front of me. The door opened, and a pair of polished leather shoes stepped into the waterlogged earth. A tall figure slowly stepped toward me beneath the shelter of a black umbrella. I could only make out his jawline and a pair of tightly pressed lips.

Absolutely! A couple of hours later, Alex informed me that five hotels had already turned down Sarah. It was two in the morning when I learned that Sarah had settled in a motel for the night. I clenched my teeth in frustration. Who would willingly choose to sleep in such a rundown motel? Only Sarah, it seemed. She might have won this round, but I was determined to ensure she'd return tomorrow. Little did I anticipate that, before dawn, the driver would bring Sarah back to me.

Tonight, he sounded like he was drowning. And Ava… Ava was already on her way to him with no hesitation. When the car pulled into the dim, nearly empty parking lot of the Suncrest Motel, Ava’s breath caught. This wasn’t a hotel. This wasn’t a safe anonymous conference lodge. This was a place where secrets went to rot. A neon sign flickered overhead, half the bulbs dead, the rest glowing a sickly pink. The parking lot was uneven and cracked. A vending machine sat outside the lobby, humming like a dying engine.

The car peeled away just as another round of gunfire erupted, bullets pinging off the rear bumper. “Where the hell are we going?” Damian demanded. “Somewhere safe,” Martin said, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. --- The drive was tense and silent, the sound of Sage’s heavy breathing the only noise inside the car. They finally arrived at a run-down motel on the outskirts of the city. Martin parked in the shadows, motioning for everyone to follow him inside. The motel room was sparse but clean, with peeling wallpaper and a faint smell of bleach. Martin double-checked the locks on the door before collapsing into a chair, his face pale.