Novel Photo Novels & Stories

As Jonah's car drove through the massive iron gates of the Bennetts' estate, I finally breathed a sigh of relief. Jonah turned the wheel, glancing at me with a small smile. "Now, should we start sharing our exclusive wedding photos?" "Good idea." He handed me his phone, urging me to do so. I opened the photo gallery the photographer had just sent. I showed it to him. "Here, I chose this." Jonah whistled softly. "Oho, you picked a phenomenal one." It was a photo of our kiss. Jonah's thumb trick was completely invisible. In the photo, Jonah's hand caressed my neck, our faces touched, and my white veil fluttered in the breeze. Classic, romantic, and deadly.

By the sixth year of our marriage, I found another man's contact information on my wife's phone. She hadn't shown him to me willingly. While she was taking a shower, a message from an unfamiliar number came through with an intimate photo. A shirtless man had his arms around her while posing for the camera with a peace sign. I picked up the phone and opened the conversation. The chat history had been wiped clean. The entire conversation contained only that one photo, and the contact was saved under a single letter. [M] She hadn't saved his full name or anything else, but it was obvious she had cheated on me.

she said, shrugging at him. "Yeah, who would've thought?" he joked. "So, y'all are like... doing some nude photos for yourselves?" Beck asked. Something struck her as out of place then, and she slid over to look at him. "No, it's professional photographer that does them," she said. "Her name is Camille. She's got a studio here in town and they do nude and erotic photography and videos." "Right, but it's like... a professional set that you guys keep or something," he asked.

She said looking from the photos on his screen to Aira and Vincent who were still behind the camera trying to compose themselves. “Uhm…” Ray mumbled making them look at him, “Can I use this on an assignment?” He asked his eyes seeming to be fixated on the screen. Aira and Vincent looked at each other then at the photographer wondering what he was seeing. They made their way toward him and perked over his shoulder. To put it simply, the photo was more than Aira expected. It looked like something out of a movie cover… an erotic movie cover… “Is this what you were going for?” She asked her grandmother looking at her incredulously.

November 14th, 2017. My blood turned to ice. I opened a new tab and typed in the date. My G****e Photos account synced. I searched for November 14th, 2017. A photo popped up. It was me and Isabella. We were in Aspen for an early ski trip. She was wearing that white fur coat I had bought her. She was smiling warmly. We were holding hands in front of a fireplace. I looked at the metadata of the photo. Taken: Nov 14, 2017. 8:42 PM. Aspen, Colorado.

Someone who'd been his long before she ever realized it. That night, alone in her room, Nova opened the journal again. Her fingers felt clumsy as they flipped through the first few pages. And then Nova saw it. A photograph. Tucked between the pages like a secret waiting to be found. It was old. Blurry. But unmistakable. Nova and her father. She was six. Sitting on his lap, wearing a blue dress with pigtails. Her favorite photo of them together, the one she'd believed burned years ago in a house fire, the only copy. Nova's chest tightened. On the back of the photo, scrawled in ink:

I switch to camera, pouting my lips in a kiss, arching my back to make sure my practically exposed tits are hard to miss. I click the button, the flashlight illuminates my figure. I send the picture, and type back. ‘Ever heard of Red Veil Club?’ I smile softly, imagining what his face would look like right now. The chat shows typing, then stops. “You took a picture?” Nova tease, eyes wide. “Ohhh, there’s someone!” My face burns, my grips on the phone tightens. “It’s just for souvenir. There’s no one.” I lie quickly. Nova continues to grin at me, refusing to believe me, but before I can convince her, Matthew greets someone behind me.

Her black hair falling down her back, white snow dusting the ground, the red blanket-all mesmerizing. She set it down and picked up another, the one where she lay in the snow. From the top of the hill, Noah captured her looking at the lens as if begging for a companion. The next shot was a close up of her with her eyes closed, snow clinging to her lashes as if asleep. Again, the photos were brilliant and catching and-real. There was something different about these from his earlier work. She couldn't put her finger on what. She looked at the other photos on the table. His agent had also sent over two previous shoots.

It was a proof-of-life shot that was now a proof-of-death sentence. The second photo stole the air from the room. It was us. At the zoo. Yesterday. Lena was laughing, her head thrown back. Nova was on my shoulders, her small hands wrapped around my forehead, a cotton candy cloud in her fist. I was smiling—a real, unguarded smile I hadn’t seen on my own face in years. It was a perfect, stolen moment of normalcy. And some sick fuck had stolen it right back. A thick red circle was drawn in marker, a crude, violent halo, around Nova’s face.

Just thinking that Jenea will not walk into my life brings pain to my heart. My love fell asleep with her head on my shoulder. I produced my phone from my pocket and browsed to my gallery; most of the pictures are of Jenea, I always take a stolen picture of her. If you are a photographer you will surely choose her to be your muse because she has the most beautiful smile and expressive eyes. I clicked the album I made where I put all our pictures in Lotte World for our first date as a real couple.