Sundown Motel Book Novels & Stories

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.

"Is it safe?" "Safer than driving around with our license plates caught on every damn security camera," Maddox replied without looking at me. I didn’t argue. I knew he was right. A few hours later The motel was the typical roadside kind, with flickering lights and a neon sign that made everything look even more rundown. A couple of trucks were parked outside, and the smell of gasoline mixed with the warm night air. Dax got out first, and Maddox gave him a look, silently instructing him to get the keys.

Hansel leaned forward then froze. “Oh hell no.” In front of us stood a motel. An old creepy abandoned motel the sign flickered weakly. Half the letters were gone. The building looked like it hadn’t been touched in years. My stomach dropped. “It looks haunted,” I said. Knox turned off the engine. “It’s a place to sleep.” Hansel shook her head. “I’m not going in there.” “You are,” Conrad said. “No, I’m not.” “Yes, you are.” “No—”

“We should just camp out there and wait this over. It’s not gonna be good for us to continue.” Tristan clucks his tongue but I know that he knows I’m right. He just slows down along the road, and eventually, we find the motel. Unfortunately for us, it’s old as fuck and basically rotting. There’s peeling paint. The cars are old and rusty just like ours, and there’s many of them too. Outside, there are men drinking even though the snow seems to be pouring out of the sky. None of them pay us any mind, even we we park and head into the reception area.

All I could smell was the rich, earthy scent the rain drummed up. As the night drew on, I searched every street possible, trying to think like Hazel, and wonder where she would turn to for safety. But Hazel seemed to have disappeared. Eventually, when it was midnight, I walked into a motel, soaked, and dripping wet. “Welcome, young man.” A fat lady devouring a bag of chips at the counter said in horror. “You're so white. You need boarding, right? Oh, please come in.” She rushed to the door, pushing it shut against the strong wind. She eyed the muscles bulging against my soaked shirt for a while before returning to the counter.

“The witch will not fail us.” I roll my eyes at his dire declaration and mount my bike. This potion could be ready in an hour, and it still wouldn’t be quick enough. We pick up shitty gas station burritos and bottled water, then check into the only motel in town: a run-down hovel so close to the interstate that every passing car shakes the walls.

"I'm so sorry..." . . MARGAUX WATCHED ROME step out of the driver's seat and make a quick run for the door. It was already past ten in the evening when they reached a two-story cheap motel. With its street sign missing one bulb and the last letter flickering, Margaux read: The Sudden Turn. It was one of the saddest places she had seen. A lone flickering street was standing at the farthest corner of that empty parking lot, with chipping paint and tall mesh barricades surrounding the area.

Watch his knuckles go white on the steering wheel. We're driving into a trap. A carefully orchestrated trap designed to take Neah. And we have fifty-six minutes to figure out how to spring it without losing her. Ahead, smoke rises on the horizon. Iron Valley is burning. And somewhere in that fire, a scientist who thinks he owns my sister is waiting to collect his prize. Over my dead body.

“They’ll come for us. Damien. The cops. Everyone.” We ditched the SUV at a rundown motel on the highway outskirts. Paid cash. The room smelled of smoke and desperation, perfect for us. The moment the door locked, I slammed her against it. Her legs wrapped around me as I freed my cock and buried it balls-deep in her dripping cunt.