Thirty Three Room Novels & Stories

“Welcome to cherry’s hotels and suite. How may I help you?” The receptionist rapped cheerfully. “I’ll like to book a room for the night.” Kimberly replied. “We have three categories. Please browse through our catalog.” The receptionist said while handing her a brochure. “Any room is fine as long as it’s on the west wing. Preferably the middle floor.” Kimberly replied. The receptionist looked at her list and said. “Room thirty six is the only vacant room on the west wing.” She produced a key and handed it to Kimberly.

He was so good, in fact, he had repeat customers. Caleb looked at his watch. One of those repeat customers would be coming by the registration desk in about twenty minutes. Room 333 was always the scheduled meeting place. She liked him to be prompt. Today, he definitely would be. And he’d only stay long enough to say thanks for the memories, but I’m done. On the one hand it felt great, liberating in fact.

From the way his brow creases in question as he waits for my response, I'd say Lukis is in his thirties. "Thirty-one," he responds, closing the room door even though I'm positive I didn't question him out loud. "The bed will have to be shared. The floor is disgusting and neither of us can sleep on it. Just stay on your side and keep out of my way, and we'll be fine for as long as you need a room." I toss my backpack down on one of the ugly orange and brown chairs placed in front of the window. "Fine." The whole décor of the room fell straight here from the seventies. An old boss at the hotel back home would have a freaking panic attack if she saw.

"Room is on the third floor. Number ten." I breathe deeply. "Hey, you okay?" "No, I'm not," I tell him, truthfully. He nods. "Neither am I." "You've been great, Jay. Wonder what I would have done without you." He smiles. I smile back. We go in, take the elevator to the third floor. Walk through the lobby and find Room Ten. The door is ajar. I look at Jaden, who shrugs ignorantly, and pushes the door open. That's when we see the bloodsuckers.

She was impressed with the room that opened up to her. It is very nice and triple the size of her room in the Philippines. But the color is dry and lifeless. She automatically stopped and glanced at Zyd, does it mean they will sleep in a one room? Ene be 'yen, eyeke! The right side of her brain screamed loudly and she actually bit her lip very hard. "My room was located on the 3rd floor." he came out but she quickly followed.

When they looked at the room , they noticed that there were three beds , three drawers , three bathrooms, and one living room with three couches . " The maids need to share the room with each other . " said butler George . " I like it ! " said Charlotte with a smile . " It is clean and has a warm aura . It is really good . " said Catherine when she saw the sun passing through the big windows and shining the room . ' How could an ex-royal concubine who was on the top years ago , find such a small place good ?! ' thought butler George with a confused expresison .

We headed towards our room together. . Our room was on the first floor, serial number 18. "Ready?" Lana asked excitedly. I smiled, shaking my head, looking at her excitement. She unlocked the door and pushed it open. My eyes widened the moment we entered. The room was extremely big with three beds. So... we had another roommate. The beds were on the far end of the room on a raised platform with three pillars in between, giving a sense of partition. On the right side of the entrance, there was a bathroom, and on the left side, there were three big cupboards and a sofa set with a small table. It was nothing less than a lavish room.

"You'll be moved to a guest room on the second floor. And since those old windows tend to rattle at night, feel free to invite ten gentlemen for company. Safety in numbers, right?" Belinda's jaw locked. Her silence said everything. I turned smoothly to the rest of the room. "The third floor has other suites available--should anyone feel brave enough to relocate." No one moved. Not a whisper. Not a breath. Sebastian rose and joined me, his movements smooth. He reached out and tapped the tip of my nose, a gesture so deliberate it felt like a claim. "No need to show kindness to cowards," he said, voice low but unmistakably clear.

“Or maybe he just wanted to give you a graceful way to hand it to someone who actually wants it.” “That's not what this is,” I say. But I don't actually know that. That's the terrible part. “Thirty days,” Vera says, standing, smoothing her skirt. “I'll start clearing my calendar for the transition. No hard feelings, Sera.” There are hard feelings. There have always been hard feelings. I don't say so. I just watch her go, heels clicking against the hardwood, and think, distantly, that I have never wanted to win something as badly as I want to win this.

A few moments later, the realtor returned carrying preliminary documents. He looked almost nervous. "There is one thing..." Marilyn looked over. "What?" The realtor laughed awkwardly. "I must admit, Miss Oxford, your taste is exceptional." She smiled. "Thank you." He rubbed the back of his neck. "This penthouse is actually the most expensive property we've shown today." Marilyn's smile disappeared. "What?" The realtor nodded. "The three-level design makes it considerably more valuable than the villas and even the waterfront mansion."