The Guest Book Novels & Stories

My eyes widened. “That who I think it is?” Alex nodded, and I gingerly put the book back where it was, patting it gently. Then he showed me his guest room. “Since when do you have guests?” I said. “Not really ever,” he admitted. “But still. Imagine.”

Zainab came back to the backyard too, dancing as she did before. I see you guys found each other. See who I found, Zaynab screamed excitedly as she pointed at Shubunmi and Kunbi. They walked in slowly, carefully staring at everybody they walked past as if they were analyzing them. "Hello, Bisi," Shunbun said in her soft voice. "Hello, Shubunmi, glad you decided to come," I replied. Kunbi kept scanning the place as if he was expecting to find something that would make him decide they had to leave. He had the look of someone disgusted by everything going on at the party.

"Go ahead." "Her name is Nevena Bachvarov, a Bulgarian national on a tourist visa. She’s currently staying at 4A New Oak Guest House, Drench Lane, New Mexico." A glimmer of satisfaction crossed Breanna’s face as Sophia briefed the update, exuding an aura of professionalism. "Great work girl. Let’s move." After some few minutes~>>>>>{At Nevena's guest house} Breanna killed the engine and they approached the entrance. Sophia took the initiative and rang the doorbell continuously—but there was no response.

I give her a signal to follow me into the kitchen. “Everything okay?” - she asks “You need to stop drooling all over our guests” - I say and she smiles “But he is hot. Do you know who he is?” - she asks “Yes I know exactly who he is, Gabriel Lockwood, now stop fangirling over him and do your job” - I say and she nods her head walking out of the kitchen. I see Gabriel reading something on his phone as he eats. How can someone be so perfect? I look away and focus on my job. Once everyone from the bookings arrived I started walking around and checking in on the guests.

Its halls filled with proof. Proof that people could find one another again. Proof that stories mattered. Proof that hope traveled. The front doors stood open. As always. Inside, visitors moved quietly among photographs and letters. The Book of Arrivals rested near the entrance. I smiled. Then froze. Because someone was writing in it. An elderly woman stood beside the book. Travel-worn coat. Silver hair. Gentle eyes. A newcomer. An arrival. One more story. I watched quietly as she finished writing.

I still have five minutes before the party starts. I am now at the elevator going up to the 20th floor of the hotel. When I got off the lift, the hallway was quiet. There was a sign that lead to the banquet hall. There was a queue before entering the hall. And for added security measure, the guests should scan the code sent via e-mail by The Golden Phoenix Club. The tightness of security was no joke. As I entered the hall, a tall and slender lady greeted me. “Hi, I am Trisha. Are you a writer?”

When we arrived at the restaurant, Cornell went first, placing a hand on my lower back to guide me. “Excuse me, we're here for a meeting.” He spoke to the manager by the door, holding a tablet to scan guests in. “We have a reservation under the name ‘Grey’.” We waited a few seconds for her to confirm and then she waved us inside, instructing a hostess to show us to our table. Unfortunately, our guests were already waiting for us, bored looks on their faces. “Oh, hello! Sorry, we're late…nasty traffic on I-25.” Cornell burst out with a wide smile that instantly caught the attention of the younger lady. “My name's Cornell Grey, we spoke on the phone…”

She felt sorry for her sister, who had greatly tried to overcome her embarrassment by asking the event organizers about the mysterious guy. She examined the guest book, which had no clues inside, as the names were written however the guests pleased. Some filled in only initials, some included full names with titles, and others wrote the character of their costumes. "I'll check this one; maybe he's the type who writes his costume character along with his complete phone number, right? Because here, it's a mess! Even though each column is categorized, the participants filled it in various ways. It's annoying!" Grace grumbled, regretting the participants' lack of

Ava stood at the grand entrance of the hotel, taking a deep breath as she straightened her blazer. The guests had started arriving, and she wanted everything to go perfectly. She knew that good reviews from VIPs would boost the hotel’s profile and, ultimately, its success. Beside her, Gabe stood with a warm smile, ready to assist with the check-ins, while a line of staff prepared to handle the luggage. Out of the twenty expected guests, nineteen had already arrived and been taken to their suites. Ava tried not to seem anxious, but she couldn't help glancing towards the door every now and then, hoping the final guest would arrive soon.

The ugly grey cabinet sits flush against a bright yellow wall; I get that in a place like this you want to keep things bright and happy, but this yellow is almost too bright, like it's mocking me with its happiness. "Excellent. If you just sign in here" she slides a visitors booklet towards me with a pen attached to it by a string. I pick up the pen and scribble down my information as she hands me a visitors pin I have to wear for the remainder of my visit. I take a quick scan of the other visitors names, not very many people have come to see their relatives this last week. Although I'm not one to judge, my last visit here would have been months ago.