The Literary Hotel Novels & Stories

What will happen if she fell in love with a gay who is never interested in women? Is it possible for a gay to be a man in the future? Found out more about Perci and Cali's journey as a lavender couple. **** Meeting Perci. **** The grand spaces of the hotel invited the lungs to expand, to absorb the elegant atmosphere. It is unmistakably wonderful the moment you set your foot from the lobby, which is illuminated with soft and welcoming light as if it were a ray of sunshine in a gentle blue pastel hue. The hotel's spectacular lights stand out in the hush of deepening azure that comes in the evening to the city, ever lit, ever awake, ever with a pulsing heart, and the city comes alive with mus

she asked. I almost smiled. "I don't know " I said. "Lets go find out." --- The hotel was on the corner of Main and Maple. It was a three-story building with columns and a porch that wrapped around the front. There were rocking chairs sitting empty. A sign by the door said Vacancy. We walked inside. The lobby was small. There was a fireplace and a desk. A woman with hair and kind eyes looked up from her book. "Welcome " she said. "Just the two of you?"

Yet, the nagging sense of unease persisted, her wolf’s earlier warning echoing faintly in the back of her mind. “Don’t look so serious,” Fidel said, glancing at her as they pulled up to the hotel’s grand entrance. “This is supposed to be fun.” Lila plastered on a bright smile. “You’re right. Let’s make it a night to remember.” Arrival at the Venue The Pearl Hotel was a masterpiece of modern luxury, its gleaming façade lit up like a beacon against the night sky. As they stepped inside, Lila allowed herself a moment to take in the opulence of the space.

That look. The kind that came from somewhere below language. "Walking you to your room." I turned and started down the hallway before my face could do something I'd regret. This hotel was one of my favorites black and white checkered floors, low dramatic lighting, the kind of moody elegance that felt borrowed from a different era. The corridor was wide enough for three people shoulder to shoulder. With Theo directly behind me, it felt like a corridor built for one. I found my room number, stopped, and reached back for my bag.

And now we could not go back to the days we knew nothing about this dangerous criminal world. As the car stops in front of the beautiful hotel, Rosé Boutique Hotel, my hands tremble as I stand on the cold, wet sidewalk after the light rain. They told me to stay here tonight, and they told me my mom is here. So, from what I understand, this is the hotel by cover and the jail for real. I push open the heavy door, and the steel creaks, echoing through the lit hallway. The silence is oppressive. Only my footsteps echo as I make my way to reception, my heart in my throat.

The unreadable expression, the arrogant tilt to his head, had once made her want to fly at him across the width of his desk. ‘Dinner…’ She folded her arms. The heavy sweep of his eyelashes dropped low as he watched her do it, and the tense quiver struck down her front. ‘Where?’ ‘My hotel. I’m staying at Langwell Hall. Langwell Hall, Charley repeated silently Only the best would ever be good enough for Dami. Langwell Hall was the finest hotel in the area—once a spectacular stately home left to go to ruin, now beautifully refurbished and transformed into a hotel.

Just a printed map — no GPS, no phone number — and a slip of paper in her backpack with the name RIVER LOREN circled three times. The only hotel in town was a converted Victorian house with no working elevator and a front desk clerk who offered warm cookies and too many questions. “You in town for the literary thing?” she asked. “What literary thing?” “You know. That author. The one who wrote that book everyone was crying about five years ago. Whispers from the Middle Sentence or something like that.” She blinked. “River Loren?” “Yeah! That’s the one.” The clerk leaned in, lowering her voice. “You’re not the first person who came here hoping to meet them.”

~ Lucien Blackwood ~ The Corinthian Hotel was a monument to excess, a gilded cage where the city's most dangerous predators wore silk ties and drank vintage scotch. I stood in the deep shadows of the mezzanine gallery, leaning my elbows against the cold stone railing. From up here, the gala looked like a choreographed dance of lies.

Lisa’s POV The hotel Evander booked is the Grand Pavilion a nineteenth-century palace converted into a five-star boutique hotel. It’s the kind of place where the bellhops wear velvet and the keys are still heavy brass tassels. I don't look at the crystal chandeliers as I cross the lobby. I don't look at the complimentary chocolates waiting on my side table. I walk straight to the heavy mahogany wardrobe where the digital safe is built into the wall. My fingers hover over the keypad.

But amidst it all there was a small hope that something would get me out of this rut. …. The vibrant city lights painted the night sky. Fully refreshed wearing the sparkling red dress Malina had prepared, I stood outside the entrance of the grand hotel Luminous Works. Looking around I was still in disbelief. For the life of me I couldn't understand how Malina had been able to get us in here. This hotel could be defined with one word-Luxury. It was one of the best hotels in the country after all. A place like this wasn't my style; I preferred much quieter cozy places. But Malina had insisted on bringing me here and I didn't have the heart to refuse her expensive gift.