The Book Hotel Novels & Stories

I asked, as my curiosity was killing me. “That's because Mr. Clinton booked the whole hotel, he didn't want any disturbance, so he asked us to close off for a month,” she said, and I gasped when I realized that he planned to keep me here for a month—well, too late because when he comes back, I won't be here. “Is there any problem? Don’t you like it?” She asked, and I shook my head. “Thank you,” I said as we got outside. “This place is beautiful, you should see it when it's fully booked, the guests love this hotel,” she tried to make conversation.

Naomi asked in surprise and side-eyed Logan as she muttered, "What nice hotel could he book? It’d be unacceptable to stay somewhere lousy when we have finally visited Ridgeview!" "Mom, maybe Logan has booked a nice hotel." Ruby coaxed her mother loudly on purpose. This way, she could criticize Logan harshly when they saw the hotel he booked later. Ruby then glanced at Logan with a smile. "Logan, which hotel did you book?" "Ametrine Guest House," Logan replied flatly. He really did not want to have another word with this family anymore. If he had not promised to book them a hotel yesterday, he would have just left them and gone off with Etiennette and Paula.

While Kaze was staying in the hotel, he kept having a feeling that he was being watched. It made him uncomfortable. His worry resulted in extra caution but he had never met anyone unfamiliar at the penthouse level. He did not want to have excessive contact with the hotel staff and tried his very best to stay away from Katie. He was not afraid of the woman but he simply did not want to get himself in trouble. The Northborn Hotel was the biggest hotel in Butterworth. It was the house of many, probably almost all, important banquets and events in its grand ballroom.

Before I could reply, the driver began coughing violently, clearly trying to stifle his laughter. I glared at Lucian. “In your dreams.” “In my dreams, you’re doing more than just lying on my bed. Want to know the details?” His smirk was maddening. I groaned, rolling my eyes. “Why can’t you ever answer a simple question with a simple answer?” “Because simple is boring.” He replied smoothly. “And yes, I booked us individual rooms.” When the car pulled up in front of a grand hotel, my jaw almost dropped. The place was massive, with a large sign that read Gran Sol Resort.

Bella I finally started to calm down as I sat on the edge of the bed in the small hotel room. It was clean and tasteful… sleek furniture, crisp white bedding, soft recessed lighting… but it felt… impersonal. Distant. Like a placeholder. I’d stayed in plenty of beautiful hotels before, five-star ones with marble bathrooms and skyline views, but this wasn’t about the thread count or the amenities. This wasn’t a romantic weekend or a family trip. I was hiding. From my own life. The room was elegant, sure, but it felt hollow. Like it knew I didn’t belong here. Not without him.

Didn’t push. He just kept stealing glances—like he couldn’t believe she was real. “Was the restaurant what you expected?” he asked, his voice low, rough, already threaded with want. She nodded slowly. “More than I expected.” Kade’s lips twitched. “You haven’t seen anything yet.” ⸻ The Hotel It was just outside of the city, tucked between hills and forest, cloaked in soft fog and elegance. A restored estate turned boutique inn—intimate and rich with deep wood, soft lighting, and staff that spoke in hushed, respectful tones.

It feels wrong, but at the same time it all just feels so damn right. “We can’t go to mine. Do you see those guards?” I point at the men who clearly want to say something, but they don’t dare. The Greek god nods. “They work for my husband.” “Okay, the hotel then.” He smiles and grabs my hand before leading me across the street to the only “hotel” in town. It’s actually a bed-and-breakfast. The girl behind the counter giggles as the guy books a room, and minutes later, we are walking up the stairs.

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.

He furrowed his brows. “I… I mean, why that hotel? There are many hotels in the country. Why it has to be the BD Hotel?” I tried not to stutter. I have to keep calm. Of course, there's Black Diamond Hotel in every state of the country. That hotel chain is quite a big name everywhere, and only people who can afford its price can be accommodated. 'Come on, it's not like you have got to be bumping into familiar faces who know you in that place.' I said to myself as to rest assured.

The title page reads The Travors Bloodline. Could it be? Is this book about Maxwell’s bloodline…my bloodline? Does a thing such as this even exist? I shove the book in my purse along with the key card, intending to read every last word in it as well as returning to this room to snoop some more. Sneaking down the halls of the hotel and peeking around every corner before I turn them is one of the hardest things I’ve done. My heart races with fear as thoughts of being caught fill my mind.