When I arrived at the hotel, I was absolutely wiped out. I can’t believe the company couldn’t spring for a direct flight, let alone business class, and the multiple connections in coach had taken its toll on me. At six feet tall, the seats on the plane are horribly uncomfortable in the cabin, and although I consider myself rather fit for my 40-plus years, my joints were still protesting the trip as they tried to relax back into order. After checking in at the front desk, I decided to have my bags sent up to my room and go and have a drink at the bar to relax my head after so much travel. Hopefully my body would follow in short order, and I’d get a good night’s sleep. At the entrance to the hotel lounge was a large, cardboard poster on an easel; it had a spiral on it, as well as a pocket watch, and it said, “Welcome Hypnosis Therapists Convention.” “Bloody hell,” I murmured under my breath. Just what I needed…a bunch of new-age weirdos all over the hotel during the days that I was
