What if you could take a picture of your true soulmate before you ever met her?
It was an innocent roll of film she found on the street. But when Jolee Wiley had it developed, hoping she might be able to find its owner from the pictures on it, she came face-to-face with a shocking impossibility.
Mike Owensby is an Archivist. A Dreams Keeper. The roll of film belongs to him. And the woman who found it may be the lover he has been seeking all his life.
ExcerptWho was he? More importantly, who was the woman in the snapshot?
There was no way the female in the photos could be her. Didn’t someone once say everybody in the world has an exact double? That’s who the woman had to be. Her twin, just not related by blood.
Oh, but what she wouldn’t give to be that woman snuggling in his embrace.
Staring at the computer, Jolee could see a lot more detail in the high resolution monitor than what she’d noticed in the tiny thumbnail proofs. There was a closeup of the man, and this one revealed a tiny scar on the bridge of his nose. He also had mesmerizing brown eyes.
These photos were raw and real. Pre-touchup. What was in each picture was one hundred percent genuine, warts and pimples and all. The man’s appearance wasn’t perfect, but those imperfections made him that much more alluring. Whoever had shot these pictures was damn good at his job.
"You... are... the man of my dreams," she murmured aloud, then chuckled and mentally slapped herself. You’re losing it, Wiley. You’ve gone ga-ga over a man’s picture, and for all you know he could already be married. Or taken. No one that devastatingly handsome stays single for long.
She continued to click through the collection, all thirty-six exposures. Each shot was a different pose of the two of them. Correction. Of the guy and the girl who looked like her identical twin sister. They were sensuously photographed, captured in romantic clutches. In some they appeared either half-naked or totally nude, but tastefully arranged so that the naughty bits weren’t exposed.
But in every one of them the man and woman, although they knew they were in front of a camera, seemed oblivious to it. Their whole attention, their total focus, remained on each other. Every touch, every look, every bend in their bodies spoke of devotion and love. These weren’t two people modeling. They were lovers caught in the midst of a romantic interlude.
She took her time studying each shot. Over and over she had to keep telling herself that the woman making love to that undeniably handsome man was not her, but she looked real enough to fool even her parents.
There were a couple of head and shoulder poses of just the man. Shots that didn’t feature herself... her twin, rather. If she placed one of them in the Lost and Found section of the paper, surely someone who knew the guy would be able to identify him. And that would lead to whoever lost the roll of film. Hopefully.