Chapter 1, First book attempt. Chelsea is a divorcee who has been suffering from blackouts. As if that wasn\'t enough the things that happen during are increasingly hard to bear. Is she going crazy or is somebody messing with her head?
“Damn” Chelsea thought as she was waking up. “It’s happened again”. After a quick look at her watch she realized this episode had been an all-nighter. At 5:30am the sun was just beginning to shine light on her city. In less than 2 hours she would need to be at work. Not completely sure of where she was she took stock of her surroundings.
The dark motel room was sparsely furnished and smelled of mildew covered over by cheap disinfectant. The cheap room was representative of various roach motels in the area. The ones that rent rooms by the hour, night or even week for those desperately in need of shelter or anonymity. Though there were no tell tale signs to distinguish this from any of the other motels in the city, Chelsea knew where she was. She had woken many times to find herself here.
The Harrison, a one story motel with 15 rooms was built on the outskirts of town. It attracted all types from truckers to hookers and the occasional clandestine affair. The manager was known to keep his mouth shut for the right price. Slip him an extra twenty at check in and you were guaranteed confidentiality. This unspoken knowledge was the reason behind the heavy traffic the Harrison saw. The motel itself was dirty, poorly decorated and offered no amenities but at any given day of the week the rooms were being used.
Chelsea took quick stock of herself. She didn’t have to explore too far to realize the night she spent in the motel room was not alone. It never was. Her legs were still heavy and her body had all the tell tale signs of a night of passion. After a quick look around, she confirmed she was now alone, her unknown lover having left while she slept. Chelsea longed for answers but was incredibly relieved by his absence nonetheless.
Chelsea scanned her memory trying for any recollection of the prior evenings events. She remembered leaving her house around ten and heading to the local hotspot in town. That’s the last clear memory she had of the evening. Other memories came in flashes. Ordering a drink, making contact with the man across the bar, flashes of bodies entangled together. She couldn’t remember his face or leaving the bar. She had no recollection of arriving at the motel or of the mystery lover leaving. This was nothing new. As hard as she tried she could not recall the pertinent details of her affairs.
“Just how wild did last night get?” she asked the empty room. Judging from the ache in her body she guessed probably a seven on a scale of one to ten. It may have been gymnastics worthy but seemed devoid of any light or heavy bondage or even worse. There had been times in the last six months that she had woken to being tied to the bed or marks on her body with no idea how they got there. The scarier implications of those nights had been almost more then she could bear.
Shaking off those thoughts she glanced in the mirror. Even though her dark auburn hair was a disheveled mess and her makeup from the night before was streaked across her face she was still unbelievably attractive. Everything about her looks screamed sex from her shoulder length curls to her smoky gray eyes and her full lips. She was curvy in all the right ways with full hips and breasts a slim waist and flat abs. She had the type of body that could pull off the skimpiest clothes or a business suit with ease.
With nothing with her to put herself back together again she would have to return home before work. At six o’clock she had enough time to get across town to her condo and take a quick shower.
“Breakfast is going to have to wait” she thought as she hurried from the room.
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