Who Are The Main Characters In Shouting At The Rain?

My sister was autistic. The doctors called it "severe sensory overload." The rule was simple: No sudden noises. Ever. So my whole life was set to mute. I never wore heels. I never raised my voice. I wasn't even allowed to laugh. It was all to keep her from having a meltdown. My father, Victor, the Don of the Castellano family, would grip my shoulder. His face was a mask of apology. "Sera, you're my good girl. Protecting your sister is our duty. You're healthy and strong. You can sacrifice a little for her, can't you?" That day, I was on the second-floor terrace and accidentally knocked over a pot of white roses. The sound of it shattering sent my sister, who was sunbathing in the garden below, into a meltdown. For the first time, Victor glared at me like I was the enemy. He roared, "Can't you just be quiet? Do you want to drive her insane?" My sister backed away in terror, right into a glass table, and let out a piercing scream. Victor charged past me, a blur of rage and panic. He slammed into me on the stairs as I was running down to help. I lost my footing and crashed chest-first into the sharp corner of a wrought-iron banister post. Pain exploded in my chest. I opened my mouth to scream, but only silence came out. My family swarmed around my shrieking sister. No one even glanced at me. My lungs filled with blood. I was drowning on the floor. They all thought my sister, the one with autism, needed the family's comfort. They thought I just took a fall. That I could wait. They were wrong.

In the future, men are forced to bend to the will of women in order to pay for their crimes of the past. Can one short conversation with a man change Rain's world forever? After the Third World War, women seized the opportunity to overcome the surviving men, creating a new nation in part of what used to be the United States ruled by the Motherhood. From that day forward, all women are raised never to question the new order of things where women have all the power and men are used and discarded like animals. Rain knows in the back of her mind that this way is wrong, but she’s been indoctrinated to believe questioning the Mothers is unheard of. All of that changes one afternoon when she’s fulfilling her duties in the Insemination Ward and speaks to one of the men face-to-face for the first time. Their conversation is brief, but Rain’s life will be changed forever. Now that Rain is aware that the Motherhood isn’t all it appears to be, she’s drawn into a circle of women who want change and are willing to sacrifice everything to overthrow the Motherhood, free the men, and create a world where everyone is appreciated and valued, regardless of gender. The road ahead is full of danger, and with every step, new questions and possibilities are presented to Rain. Will she join the rebellion and work to set men free—or will she continue to be a part of the all-powerful Motherhood? Rain’s Rebellion is book one in a new thrilling dystopian romance series.

At ten years old, I watched my mom jump to her death in a rainstorm. That same night, my dad brought home a glamorous woman and her nine-year-old daughter. I had feared and hated rainy days since then. My husband once helped me face that childhood trauma, staying by my side through every storm and promising, "Don't worry, Lena, you'll never face your fears alone." But when I refused to pick up his new assistant, he abandoned me on a highway in pouring rain, saying, "Marie is your sister, and you left her out there? Walk home!" That night, the rain never stopped, and I walked thirteen hours along a dark, endless road. That was when I decided I was done with him.

Mia Halstead, a 26 year old surgeon who’s learned to measure life in precise incisions and careful routines. When a bittersweet goodbye to childhood friends becomes an eight year leap into a town that still holds the ache of first love, Mia finds herself drawn back to the one man who haunted her heart from the start: Dawson Lane. Dawson, scarred by war and shadowed by nights of sleepless thunder, is the quiet storm she never stopped craving. He’s returned home, tall, guarded, and carrying a history that refuses to stay buried. As Mia navigates high stakes hospital corridors, a meddling sister who runs on caffeine and chaos, and a provocative doctor eager to rewrite her fate, old memories collide with present danger. A lingering crush becomes something more dangerous: the truth that love can heal what fear has kept apart and break what’s never been rebuilt. When a stalker shadows Mia’s steps, and a pregnancy tests the future in unexpected ways, Mia and Dawson must decide what they’re willing to risk for a chance at a future that isn’t dictated by memory or duty. With Liberty Lane’s unflinching loyalty and a town that aches to belong, Storm-Worn Hearts is a slow burn romance about choosing love when the weather inside you refuses to clear.

I was pregnant. On my way to deliver documents to Tristan Goldberg, a flash flood struck. Desperate, I dialed his number, praying he’d answer. After a few rings, the call connected. But instead of Tristan, a woman’s voice answered. "Tristan, whose number is this? Do you want to answer it?" There was a brief pause, and then Tristan’s voice, cold and indifferent, cut through. "It’s just my maid. Ignore it. Hang up." And just like that, the call disconnected. Staring at the torrent rising around me, my pulse quickened. I texted him, begging for him to send a rescue team. Minutes passed as the waters climbed to my waist, churning and relentless. Then, a message from Tristan finally appeared. Tristan: [What kind of ridiculous story are you making up now?] Tristan: [Emily, do you think you're eighteen, playing these childish games? I want that document in my hands within thirty minutes, or we're getting divorced.] A surge of terror shot through me as I looked up, catching sight of a heavy branch snapping loose and crashing down. In an instant, everything went dark.

After dinner with my college roommates at a restaurant in the Old Harbor district, the rain came down hard without warning. We huddled under the awning, pulling our coats tight, calling our boyfriends one by one.My friend Maya nudged my shoulder with a grin. "Your guy chased you so hard the entire school knew about it. He'll definitely be the first one here." "Right? Four years of college. Hot coffee delivered to your door on rainy days, your bike path shoveled clean in the snow, and whenever you didn't feel like getting up for class, he'd organize the professor's lecture notes and send them straight to your inbox." "That year you had your senior exhibition and came down with a high fever, he stayed with you in the studio for three days. Made you soup, fixed your models, stayed up so late his eyes were bloodshot. Evelyn, I honestly thought you'd found yourself a fairy-tale prince." They chattered on about my love life. Before long, their boyfriends all showed up with umbrellas. When they glanced my way, their expressions faltered. "How come Noah isn't here yet? Isn't your apartment just across the river?" I smiled and held up my phone. "He said something came up at the office." Maya asked her boyfriend to drop me off first. I sat in the back seat, spotted a familiar figure standing outside the pet grooming salon on the corner. He was cradling a silver-gray longhaired cat in his arms. The cat was wrapped in a soft little wool blanket. He was shielding even its ear tips, terrified of letting a single drop of rain touch it. It was Noah. The cat in his arms belonged to his childhood neighbor, Selena. This wasn't the first time Noah had left me stranded in the rain for that cat.Another message from Noah. "Babe, the rain's too heavy. Wait until it lets up and then call a car home. Don't be stubborn. You won't get wet that way." What he didn't know was that from the day Selena moved to this city last year, I had already been soaked through.