The Rain Barrel Effect Novels & Stories

On the day of my third wedding anniversary, I wait for my husband, Jonathan Myers, in the heavy downpour for four hours even though I'm already nine months pregnant. I can feel the rain drenching me from head to toe. At the same time, I keep suffering from the irregular contractions. Jonathan sends me a voice message. I can hear a bell tolling and a woman's laughter in the background. "Honey, I'll be home late. Quinn told me that she's never admired the cityscape at night before." The moment I'm hoisted onto a stretcher, I glance at my phone. Coincidentally, Jonathan's social media feed has just refreshed, showing a grid of nine photos. Quinn Farris can be seen standing in front of a floor-to-ceiling window, where an array of the city lights stretch out behind her. The caption reads, "I'm admiring the world with my baby girl." Meanwhile, I've lost a lot of blood in the delivery room. On the surgical forms, the spot that's supposed to bear my husband's signature is left empty. At 3:00 am, Jonathan wakes up in Quinn's bed. He then transfers me 5000 dollars and leaves a note on the transaction history. "Thanks for your hard work." I reject the transaction before dialing a number. "Dad, I've thought things through. I want to leave the country."

The day my parents divorced, the rain wouldn’t stop. Two agreements sat on the table. One meant staying in the old Eastwood District with my gambling-addicted father, Alexander Clark, drowning in debt. The other meant leaving for Silverstrand Coast with my mother, Charlotte Hayes, who was remarrying into wealth. In my last life, my younger brother, Mathias Clark, cried and clung to Mom while I quietly packed my things and chose to stay with Dad. Later, he quit gambling and struck it rich during a redevelopment boom. He poured everything into raising me right. Meanwhile, Mathias was trapped in his stepfather’s house—isolated, controlled, never allowed outside—until depression took his life. But this time, everything changed. Mathias snatched the cigarette from Dad’s hand and hugged him tightly, refusing to let go. "Tyler, I feel bad for Dad. You go enjoy the good life over there. I’ll stay and take care of him for you." Dad froze for a moment, then smiled with relief and patted his shoulder. I said nothing. I simply picked up the train ticket to the coast. What he didn’t know was that… In my last life, the reason Dad was able to quit gambling was because I had a brain tumor. I worked myself to the brink of coughing up blood just to repay his debts. I traded my life… for his redemption.

Seven years ago, in order to accompany the fake heiress abroad for her recovery, Timothy Gibson casually signed the divorce papers I handed him. Without even turning around, he sneered at me. "Naomi, don't use such underhanded tactics to keep me around. Esther can't live without me abroad." Seven years later, he blocked my path with his car, and he spoke to me with an air of superiority. "Grandpa is critically ill. His only dying wish is to hold his great-grandchild. "Come back with me, behave yourself, and give birth to an heir. You will still be Mrs. Gibson." I looked down at my shoes. I recalled the time I stood in the rain and begged him not to leave. I even collapsed in the rain. In the end, all it got me was a dismissive 'you're making a scene' from him. Timothy still thought my life revolved around him. He had no idea that without the title of Mrs. Gibson, I had lived very well these past seven years. The very day after he signed the divorce papers, I married someone else. Gently touching my stomach, which wasn't even showing yet, I smiled and said, "Mr. Gibson, I'm afraid I'm going to disappoint you. I am having a baby, but it isn't yours."

Everyone in the underworld knew Rosalie Thorne, the "Thorn Principessa" of the North. Wild, rebellious, notorious. Street racing, high-stakes gambling, guns, and drinking, she had mastered them all. The rose-and-thorn tattoo on the nape of her neck drove countless men wild. But what they didn't know was that for Rocco, the new mob boss of the South, a single sentence, "I prefer a more obedient woman," was all it took. At his word, I had the tattoo lasered off and swapped my leathers for long, conservative dresses. I am Rosalie. For five years, I hid my identity and played the porcelain doll Rocco wanted. Until the night he eliminated all his rivals and was crowned the new Don of the South. That was when he let his men bow to another woman, hailing her as their "Donna." I watched Rocco. The same hands that had just executed a traitor were now gently placing a pair of red high heels on the feet of his adoptive sister, Vivian. "Rosalie, she has a temper. She'll make a scene if she doesn't get the title." "You're the good one, the obedient one. Just let her have this." That day, I walked straight out into the rain and never looked back. I was never truly obedient. I just made myself smaller for him. My family had already chosen a husband for me. They had been waiting five years, just for me to say yes.

On our wedding anniversary, my CEO husband, Michael Grant, invited me to watch the ocean with him. Tragically, a typhoon hit. I stood there in the raging wind and rain for over two hours, and he never showed up. In the end, all I got was a text that he was suddenly going on a business trip and couldn’t make it. Right after that, his intern, Nora Blake, posted a video on her social feed. It showed my usually pampered husband barefoot while helping fishermen haul crates of seafood. Her caption read: "Our hardworking CEO loves to get his hands dirty!" I laughed and commented: "Diligent and enduring—a true role model for us all." The company Slack channel instantly exploded. Everyone was betting on whether I’d finally blow up this time. Michael called me, his voice tight with fury, "Lauren West! What the heck did you mean by posting that comment? Are you trying to humiliate Nora in public? "It was a typhoon. I helped her family move some fish. What’s the big deal? You’re such a pampered little princess who has no idea how hard life really is. Delete that comment now. I’ll take you to the coast another day." Disgust churned in me. I replied, "Let a man who’s already rolled in the mud take me to the ocean? Forget it." Yes. Michael was now tainted, and I didn’t want him anymore.

Blurb The downpour washed the dark alleys of Ole Keating Village like Jupiter is wrathful towards the small town. Every time the lightning slashes the skies sending frightening thunders everywhere, the little boy’s strides become faster. “You’ve got nowhere to run, boy.” He harshly covered his ears just to get away from the taunting voice. The heavy rain somehow managed to wipe the blood from his body yet the pain unrelenting to grow. He fell on his knees resulting in another painful and ugly scratch to bleed. He looks like a beaten rag. He hasn’t eaten for days and the fearsome encounter he just escapes didn’t guarantee his safety. Even limping, he tried to get on his feet just to stumble and fall on the cold, hard ground again. A loud sound of the honking car filled his ears as the blinding light approaches closer. Surrendering, he lied flat on the ground wishing the pain finally ends. Sounds of boots slapping the water from the road come into his senses but he’s too weak to care. Someone’s checking on him but all that he can think of right now is the girl she left alone in the old warehouse. “S-save her…” he mumbled, tasting blood in his mouth, “Please save her.” The darkness pulled him and he finally gave in.

I was born into the Valerie family, with the noble blood that could give a vampire a powerful hybrid heir. I was meant to marry Ethan, heir to the Prince. But the night before the engagement, his younger brother Adrian knelt in the rain in front of me. “Elena, I’d give up everything.” “I love you. You’re all I want.” So I broke the engagement, let my family disown me, and married him without a backward glance. Then I got pregnant. He started keeping me at arm’s length, finding reasons not to touch me, not even willing to stay in the same room as me. Until the night I heard him tell his men: “Once Elena has the baby, we’ll hand it over to Ethan and Sophia.” “Sophia’s health is fragile. I can’t bear to put her through a pregnancy.” That was when I finally understood. Adrian had never loved me. He’d married me only to free up the place beside Ethan for my cousin Sophia. Even the child I’d struggled so hard to carry had already been promised away to the woman he truly loved. I rested a hand on my belly and called my father. “Dad, I was wrong about him.” Adrian thought I’d stay trapped in his web of lies forever. He had no idea. Two months from now, I would vanish from his world for good.

"Don't deny it. You want it." Killian said to me, stroking the nape of my neck with his thumb. His face is so close to mine and I forgot to breathe. I gasped when he pushed my dress higher, revealing my thighs to him and let his hands rest between my thighs. I tilted my head to the side to avoid his lustful gaze, penetrating deep into my soul. "Your body craves it." He said, firing kisses down my neck till his lips touched my hard, naked nipples. That sent shivers down my spine. My body erupted with goosebumps and I exhaled sharply. I want to speak, but I can't. He has that much effect on me. His tongue played with my nipples and I mewled. That felt so good. "You want me as much as I want you." He whispered with his lips pressed on my skin. I shouldn't be doing this. I know I should stay away from this man but how can I when he invades my thoughts daily? When he's the only one my body wants. It's frustrating because no matter how hard I try, I can't say no to him. And I am this close to making the worst mistake of my life. I swallowed, trying to fathom the words out.His fingers brushed my core and I jerked forward, pressing my body on his. "I don't want you." "You're lying." He said, playing with the strap of my thong with a lazy finger. My eyes rolled back in my socket with pleasure. I am lying but he's making it so hard. "We shouldn't be doing this, Killian." Killian? Do I really have the right to call him that? "Give me one reason why and I won't touch you." "Because you're my best friend's Fiance."

“You want this,” Leo murmured, his thumb slowly tracing the nape of my neck. His face hovered dangerously close to mine, so close that I forgot how to breathe. A gasp escaped me when he pushed my dress higher, exposing my thighs as his hands settled between them. I turned my head away, trying to escape the intensity of his gaze, the way it seemed to see straight through me. “Your body says otherwise,” he said softly. His lips trailed down my neck, leaving a path of heat behind until they reached my bare chest. The sensation sent a sharp shiver down my spine. Goosebumps erupted across my skin as I inhaled sharply. I tried to speak, but the words refused to come. He had that effect on me. When his tongue brushed and sucked on my nipple, a soft moan escaped my lips before I could stop it. “You’re trembling,” he whispered against my skin. I shouldn’t be here. I should stay away from this man. But he had already worked his way into my thoughts, invading them every single day. My body betrayed me, responding to him in ways I couldn’t control. It was supposed to be one night. I swallowed, forcing the words out as his fingers rubbed my core, making me arch forward instinctively against him. “I don’t want you.” “Interesting,” Leo said lazily, his finger hooking lightly against the strap of my thong. “Because you’re still here.” My eyes fluttered closed as a wave of sensation rushed through me. I was lying, and he knew it. “We shouldn’t be doing this, Leo,” I whispered. He leaned closer, his voice low and steady. “Give me one good reason, and I’ll stop.” “Because… you’re my best friend’s fiancé.”

Ara once thought Logan was her perfect lover. He was everything she dreamed of—charming, sophisticated, and with a deep love for art that matched her own. Together, they shared long conversations about paintings, literature, and life, and Logan seemed to understand her in ways no one else ever had. For a while, she truly believed he was the perfect man, the one she was meant to be with forever. But when she discovered the truth, she realized he’d only been using her to get closer to the woman he truly wanted. Heartbroken and betrayed, Ara walked away in the pouring rain, her heart shattered but her resolve stronger than ever. She would never let him back in. Three years later, Logan resurfaces—not through a business deal with her company, but through an unexpected acquisition of one of its key partners. Determined to win Ara back, Logan is no longer the man she once knew. He’s cold, relentless, and will stop at nothing to force her back into his world. “You can’t escape me, Ara. This time, I’ll make you stay.” But Ara is no longer the same woman she was. Her fierce independence and stubborn heart refuse to let Logan back in, no matter how hard he pushes. As their past resurfaces, secrets about Logan’s possible connection to her father’s death threaten to unravel everything.