After The Rain Novels & Stories

"I did take the hint that we were going flying. I mean when you took off to the sky I felt the night breeze on my skin but when I opened my eyes. I panicked. I haven't been so far up in the sky. I was basically staring down at the earth. How could I not freak out?!" I sighed. It was my fault then. I hate feeling like this. Feeling stupid for attempting to make her feel better. Give her a good night of some sort. Cold shower. That always fixes everything. Instead of walking into the bathroom I shadowed myself into the bathroom ending up naked standing underneath the showerhead. I turned on the tap and cold water spewed from the showerhead hitting me like a million pins piercing my flesh. My p

****** The rain followed Elara like a curse. It chased her across the city, drumming against the windshield in relentless waves, blurring the roads until everything around her looked like watercolor bleeding into darkness. She kept both hands on the wheel, knuckles white, heart pounding in rhythm with the storm. She didn’t stop driving until the entrance of the safe-house parking garage appeared An underground space beneath a modest apartment building in a quieter district. Nothing fancy. Nothing traceable to Damien. It wasn’t much, but it was hers. At least… for now.

“You left her in the fire. Alone. She got herself out. Don’t think for one second that didn’t leave marks.” “I know. Believe me, I know.” Another pause. Then Tasha sighed. “She volunteers Saturdays at Jefferson Park. Gives out meals. Talks to kids. Shows up, even when it’s raining.” That landed heavy. Meekey hadn’t even known her daughter liked the rain. “She always brings her friend Zoe,” Tasha continued. “They’ve been close for years. If you really want a shot at seeing her without breaking her heart again… talk to Zoe first.” “Thank you,” Meekey whispered.

As I returned to my hometown, gentle winds brushed my hair, the scent of grass and soil tickling my nose. I'd wandered far away from home in my early years, but time out there had made me wiser. Now, I understood that home was where I chose to stay. A storm had passed, and old leaves had fallen. When spring came, new shoots would sprout. I would be there, basking in the sunlight, while the scent of flowers fluttered in the air. Life was good.

He remained unconscious even now. Outside the window, the rain poured down noisily. Leaning against the couch, I merely changed the channel. After the rain passed, there would always be a brand-new beginning.

​The Rain of Memories ​Outside the ship, the silver pixels of the moon’s shell began to fall toward the surface of Sigma-9. They looked like a meteor shower of pure light. But as they hit the atmosphere, they didn't burn up. They turned into "Memory-Rain", a soft, glowing drizzle that carried the songs, the stories, and the secret dreams of the ancestors back to the people in the streets.

Sheridan stands beside him, her bare skin glowing in a fancy leather harness, swaying a little with excitement. Trey finishes and turns towards her. He snaps his fingers and she falls to her knees, gazing up at her mate. I don’t need to see her face to know that her eyes are shining. Trey’s face softens as he looks down at her. Another couple stealing a moment before they engage in the complicated mating dance of submission and dominance. I’ve seen it a million times before, but somehow it’s not as grotesque on shifters. That still doesn’t mean I get it. I climb the rest of the stairs and hit the door with my fist to escape.

As the rain continued to fall, wrapping them in a cloak of serenity and love, they shared a moment of quiet joy and gratitude, their hearts uplifted by the symphony of raindrops that echoed the eternal cycle of growth, renewal, and the enduring beauty of the world around them. The rain painted a tranquil tableau outside, its gentle presence a reminder of nature's ever-present embrace. Mama Hazel and Theo sat in the cozy living room, wrapped in the soothing melody of the rain, their hearts attuned to the symphony of water droplets and the rustle of leaves swaying in the breeze.

The rain on the western ridge did not merely fall; it drove sideways, a relentless sheet of freezing highland water that turned the peat and heather into a thick, clinging mire. Tala stood perfectly motionless at the absolute precipice of the ridge, her feet dug firmly into the ancient earth. The storm howled around her, ripping at her clothes, but her spun-copper hair seemed to dance with a life of its own, vibrant against the dark, bruising gray of the sky. Her icy blue eyes were fixed on the valley below, tracking the glowing halogen headlights of Malakai’s heavy excavation armor as the machinery slowly ground its way toward the first sacred threshold.

It was the eighth year of my marriage. As I was driving my daughter to school, I took a call on speaker. "Is this Mr. Andrew Benedict? Your wife, Ms. Clara Miller, left her diamond ring in our executive suite." My hands froze on the wheel. Andrew was my husband. Clara was my best friend. I rushed to my brother's office, desperate to prove it was a mistake. He didn't even look up from his desk. He wasn't surprised at all. "Summer, drop it," my brother, Aaron Walter, said calmly. "They have a child together now. Just pretend you don't know. "He lied to you to spare your feelings," he added. "We all kept quiet for your own good." I felt my blood cold as it ran through my veins. "He's r