The Literary Hotel Novels & Stories

They drove in comfortable silence with occasional bursts of chatter and after an hour or so, they had finally arrived at their destination. Steve kept shifting his glance, tapping his foot looking every bit as nervous as he felt and Liza couldn't help but find it cute. Their destination was in a secluded part, a little way from the highway but still full of life. People called it 'Literature Lane', which could only be described as a festival of literature. There were huge banners of books and below those banners, people were enacting scenes from books or were reciting them, she also a book discussion group somewhere. The books were from almost all the genres, from classics to contemporary, p

The lobby swallowed them, muting the growl of the city and the soft scrape of claws on metal. The hotel wasn’t the kind that appeared on travel brochures. It squatted three stories tall, brick weathered by decades of sun and rain, its awning a tired green that flapped when the wind pulled at it. A row of potted palms framed the glass doors, leaves dusty but alive, like they’d been surviving more than thriving. The neon sign above the lobby glowed half-dead, one letter stubbornly refusing to light. Inside, the air smelled faintly of lemon cleaner overlaid with something older—old carpets, maybe, or the ghost of cigarettes from a time when nobody had cared about the rules. The floor was tiled

He asked Katherine who was in front of him, forcing her to halt. "What is that tall building over there?" Katherine asked out of nowhere, pointing at a five story building peeking out through the East of the far end of the field. "Who doesn't know that's the Crystal Bay hotel. The largest hotel in our Pack. Why do you ask?" Jason asked curiously. "That's the hotel the Lycan King and I met and fucked on the night of the incident and from the Codes we decoded, Hotel was mentioned. What do you think that hotel is?" Katherine asked.

The air buzzed with energy, and Isla felt a sense of excitement and anticipation building within her. The limousine made its way towards the coast, and soon, a breathtaking sight came into view. A luxurious sea-view hotel stood proudly on the cliffs, its architecture reminiscent of a grand palace. The hotel's exterior was adorned with intricate carvings and sculptures, and its windows shimmered with the reflection of the setting sun. "Welcome to the Hotel Aurora," Liam announced as the car pulled up to the grand entrance. "This place is renowned for its hospitality and magical ambiance. It's the perfect setting for our time here."

The mountain road seemed endless, with the car’s headlights casting an ethereal glow on the rock walls, creating an illusionary effect. After what seemed like an eternity, the car slowly came to a stop, and the door was opened. Lalisa stepped out of the car and was greeted by a grand and majestic mountain-top hotel. It was illuminated brilliantly, and a group of hotel staff in uniform stood at the entrance. Upon seeing her, they all bowed respectfully and said, “Miss Lalisa, welcome to our prestigious establishment.” A hotel? “Is Louis waiting inside?” Lalisa looked back at McKay. If they were just going to a restaurant, she could tolerate it, but being taken to this extravagant hotel on Dia

“Look straight in front of you.” With a tug, he dragged literally me to the entrance of the hotel that bright displayed a very expensive looking name. “Knight-West Hotels and bar.” But this caused an uproar in the hordes of reporters and one question echoed. “Who is she, Mr. Knight?” He ignored them all and quickly hurried us inside a wonderland of exotic white marble columns that soared seven stories above an opulent bar, decorated with naked, golden statues, and long, blue reflecting pools. Ivies dripped from marble balconies.

Each time it lands in a different place first my stomach, then my chest, then somewhere deeper, more fundamental, where the things I chose and the price I paid for them share the same unbearable room. I checked into a hotel on the 57th. Not Langham, I will never walk into Langham again as long as I live. Something smaller, anonymous, the kind of place that takes your card without asking questions and gives you a room that smells like clean linen and other people’s fresh starts. I sat on the bed. I opened my laptop. I made three calls.