An alarm blares in my ear. I don’t remember setting an alarm, but I don’t remember falling asleep either. I don’t even remember what I’m supposed to be doing this morning.
I reach over to my nightstand to hit it off like I always do. But when I wack the alarm, it keeps blaring.
Dammit.
I force my eyes open, even though I don’t want to wake up. My body is begging me to go back to sleep. When I open my eyes, I realize I’m not in my bedroom.
I’m somewhere far fancier.
I blink rapidly, assuming this is a dream. I would never stay in a hotel this foo-fooie, but every time I look around, red and gold accents are staring back at me.
I grab the still-blaring alarm and find the switch to turn the bastard off. Then I flop back and look up at a bright chandelier staring down at me.
Wher
