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Illustrative Short Stories for Luxury Travel Brands

I create whimsical illustrative short stories that feel deeply personal while capturing the essence of art de vivre, that magical art of living.


To enchant the hearts of modern adventurers while honoring the age-old traditions of a brand, is a quest fraught with challenges. It requires the creation of new and delightful storytelling treats, bite-sized morsels of narrative delight that tantalize the senses and leave the soul longing for more.


Let's create magic.

Illustrative Short Stories

Mount Nelson

In the midst of my troubles, I seek solace in my favorite hotel oasis, my cherished sanctuary of pink wonders that steals my breath each time I arrive. Behold the legendary pink walls framing the bright blue sky, while butterflies dance in the enchanting gardens below. Through the grand lobby hall I wander, greeted by opulent rose centerpieces heralding the arrival of Spring's splendor. Suddenly, my thoughts are consumed by the imminent delight of tea time. Afternoon Tea in the beautiful tea lounge, amidst a symphony of hues, I savor every sip, tasting the very essence of pink itself. I devour my worries with sumptuous cakes, pastries, and sandwiches and wash away my concerns with the special pink tea blended with roses from the garden. Serenaded by the gentle melodies of the piano, I drift into a blissful calm, wrapped in the comforting embrace of pink tranquility.


Inside the frosty air of the St. Peterburg ice arena, I took a class with champion figure-skater Tamara Moskvina. Amidst the twirls and pirouettes, a mysterious man's camera lens captured my gliding movements into graceful artistry. A fellow hotel guest, he spoke of the challenge to capture fleeting moments of magic without intruding upon the comfort of his subjects. We had agreed to meet later for a night cap, and with a flutter of nerves, I approached him sitting at the hotel bar, moving with a sensuous slink I scarcely recognized in myself. Spotting me, he looked up from his phone smiling, his eyes deep as midnight lakes. We shared stories over Grand Marnier cocktails, turning strangers into kindred spirits. As the night deepened, we ventured through the hotel's corridors, discovering hidden wonders beneath its gilded façade. With every step, our bond grew stronger, and the magic of the evening whispered promises of adventures yet to come.


Ever since I could remember, Carina has been the hotel cleaning lady but nonetheless persistently maintains a degree of refinement reminiscent of the Portofino hotel itself - a 16th-century former monastery. When I lamented boredom while my parents spent hours pampering at the spa or gobbling fine pasta specialties, Carina would transform my childhood existence into a joyful retreat. During her work breaks, she kindly educated me on the cultivation of the courtyard’s ornamental wisteria blooms. Now some 20 years later, I’m celebrating my wedding here. On the night before the wedding – dressed in my wedding gown much to my superstitious family’s horror – I adventured for a secret midnight rendezvous to exchange my love’s faithful vow to my fiancé on the moonlit wisteria-draped terrace. 

Belmond Hotel Splendido, Italy


Although our Amalfi hotel offered stunning views of the heavens and seaside, I insisted my Grandma and I leave the palace and cascade down the mountains to explore the lemon groves.  The recollection of making freshly-squeezed Louisiana lemonade with her mother lived fondly in her heart despite the Alzheimer’s stealing her memories. Her eyes glistened with wonder as our personal tour guide spoke of his relationship with the sun-infused lemons near hand-carved rocks and recounted the old days when they carried baskets of lemons on their shoulders and traded them abroad for spices and iron. I think she died after that special moment. After returning from Italy, her body remained with us for 1 more week, but her mind departed at the end of the tour, because she knew saying goodbye in the lemon grove was better that way.

Belmond Hotel Caruso, Amalfi Coast Italy


Escaping the corporate chaos, I sought solace in Portugal, embarking on a jeep journey to soar above the cotton candy clouds, eager to witness the sun rise atop Madeira's majestic mountains. With crystal champagne clinking, my faithful attendant Nuno and I toasted life amidst a sky ablaze in crimson, gold, and violet hues. A symphony of forest birdcalls danced through the pine-scented air, wrapping me in a cocoon of tranquility. I vowed to mentally revisit this moment whenever the weight of the world threatened to overwhelm. On the eve of departure, amid poolside email checks, tension crept upon my shoulders. Dropping the laptop, I plunged into the pool, feeling as free as a buoyant bird as the sunset serenaded the sky.

Belmond Reid's Palace, Portugal

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