Blog Tour: Matt – the beginning by Viveca Benoir

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Book: Matt: The Beginning
Series: Prequel to: To Murder Matt (Can be read as a standalone)
Genre: Dark/Erotic Romance
Author: Viveca Benoir
Hosted By: Francessca’s Romance Reviews

Synopsis:

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Matt is a devil amongst men.

In ‘To Murder Matt,’ Matt was the most hated man on the planet. People around him wanted to murder him. He was abusive, mean and a downright nasty character that you prayed you would never meet.

Here we read his story. We join him on his journey through life from his very first breath and we find out why he becomes a devil amongst men.

Whatever you think you know about Matt, throw it out of the window, it’s wrong. You need to read his story.

A twisting dark novel of grand passions, heart breaking love, betrayal, death, deceit and lies.

Important. Suitable for 18+ Adults only. Contains sexually explicit scenes.

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EXCERPT

“That’s it. Push! Harder!” The woman lying on the bed screamed, her face screwed up in agony as the pain wracked her body. “That’s it. Good Girl, and again.” She screamed again, and pushed with all her might. Her face coming forward as she tried to scrunch her body up and push the baby out. Her face screwed up in effort, her forehead glistening with sweat. Her massive stomach cramping in pain. She had been rushed in, in the later stages of labour. Her white hospital gown, from another facility, was dirty with long term wear. Her hair was matted and her fingernails were clogged with dirt. The midwife didn’t care who she was, or where she came from. To her, she was a mother to be, and her job was to help her have her baby safely. BANG. The sudden loud sound caused the pregnant woman to scream in fear as there was a sudden explosion followed by a power cut that plunged them both into the darkness. “Merde.” The midwife muttered in the pitch black. The girl on the bed was screaming still, and now she couldn’t see what was happening; right at the crucial moment. She needed to deliver the baby. The girl was so close now. “Get me some lights in here,” she shouted to no one in particular. Then she spoke calmly towards the young woman giving birth. “Stay calm, ma Cherie, your baby will be fine. You can do this.” The girl on the bed grunted with the effort. She suddenly groaned and screamed again and the midwife put her hands forward in the dark to try and feel what was happening. She visualised the events in her mind and knew immediately what to do. She felt a baby start to fall forward into her hands. The head slimy with mucus, then the shoulder. She quickly put her fingers around the throat to feel for the umbilical cord, and pulled it over the head. Her actions instinctive, trained and experienced. She smiled as she felt the baby wriggle forward and slide fully into her hands, its arms warm and tiny. She loved this part of her job. The first moments of the miracle of life. She smiled too, because even without the lights, she could see. She had done this hundreds of times, but never in the dark like this. ‘I could do it blindfolded,’ she thought. Expertly she did everything she had done for all the other births she had assisted at. Tonight though, she was on her own. She cleared the nasal passageways and held the baby upside down and smacked the bottom hard. The baby let out a shocked cry and breathed in sharply followed by a loud trembling scream. “Well done, ma Cherie.” She said to the moaning woman. She was obviously tired. The midwife tied the umbilical cord and cut it before finding a towel so she could wrap and hand the baby to its new mother. She felt her way through the darkness towards her, her eyes still unaccustomed to the pitch black. “Here, take your baby. We will see what it is when the lights come back on.” She was just about to lay the baby on her breast when the girl on the bed screamed again and started wailing. She started panting again and making sounds as though she were bearing down again. “Huh?” The midwife said in surprise. “Are you having twins? Oh Dieu!” The woman grunted and began pushing down again. The midwife hastily put the baby on the side and began to assist the woman. The baby was screaming too, and she tutted to herself. ‘Did she have to do everything herself? And where were those lights?’ “Help me,” the woman said between pushes. “Help me.” “It’s ok, you are well. You already have one child, the next one is coming any minute now. You will be fine.” She felt a baby crowning, the head pushing through the already widened birthing canal. She held her hands there to guide it through. It landed into her hands, much as the first had done and again her skills kicked in. Still, in total darkness, she felt for the umbilical cord, she cleared the baby’s passageways and she held the baby upside down to help it breathe. She slapped its bottom and heard a great yell from the baby. Now there were two babies crying. ‘What a night.’ The midwife thought. The woman started screaming again. ‘Was there another Baby? Was it possible?’ She screamed differently though. More this time. She sounded in more pain than before. It was a blood curdling scream and she hoped never to ever hear it again. It sent shivers down her spine, and she had goose bumps on her arms. She rushed to assist her. “What? Another?” She said in confusion. She put the baby down on the side with the other and rushed back to her side. Her hands felt about in the darkness, there was only wetness between the woman’s legs. Lots of it. She was haemorrhaging badly, blood was pumping from between her legs, like a waterfall of warm wet stickiness. It gushed off the bed and dripped down to the floor, covering it in a slowly expanding red carpet of life. “Help me.” The woman said weakly. The midwife screamed for others to come and help her. She started to push towels between the new mother’s legs in a bid to staunch the bleeding. She could feel the blood pouring on to her feet. “It’s ok.” She said as calmly as she could. “You will be ok. Hold on. You have two beautiful babies. You will see them in a minute.” She said to the woman on the bed. In the background, the babies were both screaming, a sad wailing, as if they knew. They were cold, and alone. They wanted the warmth of their mother. Their cries were pitiful. She called out to others to come assist her. But nothing. No one came, for tonight everyone was busy; there was a strike on at the hospital and they were on a skeleton staff. When the lights finally came back on, the woman was dead. Blood was everywhere, her lifeless body looking as though she had been murdered. Stabbed. She had haemorrhaged everywhere. Her legs were wide open, the blood soaked towel doing little to staunch her life force as it seeped from her. Her arms were hanging listlessly over the side of the bed. Her eyes were looking up to the ceiling, forlorn and desperate. The midwife was covered in blood too. She was also standing in the sticky red life liquid that had dripped from the bed and pooled on the floor about her. She wept as she looked at the devastating scene around her. Never in all her nursing life had she ever lost a patient. This girl had been so young, so beautiful, even if she had come from the local insane asylum. S he didn’t deserve to die, not like this. The midwife looked at the two babies on the side. One was a boy, and one was a girl. “Come little one.” She said as she took the little girl into her arms. “I will keep you myself. I shall name you Marie.” She looked across at the little boy, his arms were flailing and his face was red and angry. “You,” she said sadly. “I cannot take, but I shall find you a home. You, I shall call Matthieu.” The baby boy, Matthieu, whimpered.

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About The Author

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Born to British Army parents, Viveca grew up in Europe and speaks six European languages fluently, which basically means she can buy food wherever she goes. Married, with two biological children, plus four adopted children. Now, years later, the kids all grown up, she is an international best selling author, writing a variety of genres. Her hobbies, when not writing, include sailing, flying, ski-ing, fencing, dressage, and playing the cello.

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Other Books By Viveca

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To Murder Matt
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Dancing With Devia
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New Release: Declan (Wounded Heroes #1) by Ava Manello

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Book: Declan
Series: Wounded Heroes #1
Genre: Military/Suspense Romance
Author: Ava Manello
Cover: Margreet Assleburgs
Hosted by:Francessca’s Romance Reviews

Synopsis

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War almost destroyed them, but they survived thanks to their brother in arms Declan.

Coming home wasn’t as sweet as they’d hoped, lives had moved on without them. For one it was all too much.

United by grief and angered by injustice the Wounded Heroes vow to always be there for each other.

Little do they know that’s going to come sooner rather than later.

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Excerpt

The touch of my fingers sends a small tremor through her. I try to keep the massage firm, yet tender. I can already see some of the tension leaving her body. She groans as I knead the hard knot at the base of her neck. This past week has been a living nightmare for all of us, but especially her and the stress has really knotted her neck and shoulders.

My hands leave her skin for a moment as I reach for more body lotion. She moans in protest. There’s a delicate hint of coconut in the air as I warm it in my hands before applying it at the base of her spine.

I knead up and down her back, leaving a trail of warmth where I’ve passed. I can feel my cock twitching in my tight boxer briefs, begging to be let loose. It’s been too long since I allowed myself that particular pleasure. After everything that’s happened I wasn’t sure it would show interest in sex again, I’m pleased that it is, but I can’t. Not here. Not now.

Georgia is laying face down underneath me, dressed only in skimpy briefs so that I can massage her back. My legs are astride hers and I’m pretty sure she can feel my cock pushing against her. She says nothing though.

How the fuck did I find myself here? On this bed and in this position? This is my friend’s widow for fucks sake. I need to show him some respect. I need to remember the man that he was, not the shell he had become. He sank so low that there was no coming back. That’s why I’m here. We buried him today, so the last place I should be right now is in his widow’s bed.

I couldn’t ignore Georgia’s scream though as she’d woken from a nightmare, or the fat tears rolling down her face. She’s too young to be a widow; she’s not even forty. She has her whole life ahead of her. I’d consoled her by drawing her into my arms, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling her close. She’d whimpered when my hand touched her back. The downside of living with Max for these past few months had been the abuse. She may have outgrown most of the bruises but the residual pain was still there.

I’d offered her a back rub in my innocence, and that’s how I came to find myself here now, sitting on top of her and desperately begging my cock to go back into its usual state of stupor.

There’s something sensuous about caressing a woman’s skin, and it’s turning me on. As awful as it sounds it helps that I can’t see Georgia’s face. I couldn’t do this if I looked her in the eye. I need to just pretend she’s some anonymous stranger if I’ve any chance of getting through the rest of this night.

Georgia moans as I release a particularly deep knot in her shoulder, but it sounds more like a moan of passion than relief.

“Declan,” she pleads. “I need you. I need this.” She whimpers.

“I can’t.” I whisper back. “I can’t do it to Max.” I apologise.

“Fuck Max.” She hisses. “He didn’t give a shit about either of us these past few months. I need this.” She pauses. “And from the feel of your cock digging into my ass you need it too.” She reasons.

She’s right. I do need it. But I can’t.

“I can’t look you in the eye.” I apologise.

“Then don’t.” She reasons. She reaches down behind her, pulling her almost non-existent underwear down and raising her ass slightly. I can see her glistening pussy. She’s wet for me and I know for sure that my cock is hard for her.

I dismiss the guilt from my mind and release myself from my boxer shorts. Without allowing myself time to think about it I push into her. Fuck! That feels so good. It feels so tight and deep. I pause for a moment just enjoying the sensation, and Georgia lets out a loud groan of satisfaction.

“That feels fucking amazing.” She almost purrs.

Slowly I move in and out of her, each time it feels like I’ve gone deeper than the last. Her legs are trapped together between mine by her shoved down underwear and her ass is gripping tightly to my cock as I move in and out.

She moves a hand to caress my leg. I stop her by holding her arms down. From the satisfied moans she’s making, it’s clear she likes that. Her face is almost hidden in the mattress, the pillow already tossed aside. She’s got short hair, I want to grab hold of it and pull her head back each time I push into her, but it’s too short for that. It’s just long enough to hide her face, and that’s probably a good thing. If I saw her face right now I suspect my cock would deflate faster than a popped balloon.

The only sounds in the room are the slap of flesh against flesh as my movements become stronger as do our mutual groans of pleasure. I slap her ass sharply, and when she doesn’t protest I do it again. She’s pushing her ass back up against me, silently begging for more. I give it to her.

That’s when it all goes to shit. I’m having the best sex I’ve had in months, fuck it I’m having the only sex I’ve had in months, when I hear it.

A car backfires outside and I lose it. Suddenly I’m not in this suburban bedroom; I’m back in Afghanistan the day it happened. I can feel the heat, taste the sand in my mouth, and hear the screams of the other guys.

I snap out of it, just in time. My hands are round Georgia’s neck and I’m strangling her. She can barely breathe, let alone make a sound and her face is going a shade of purple. I release my hands quickly.

Georgia draws in a deep gulping breath of air before collapsing back down to the mattress and taking shallow breaths.

“What the fuck!” She croaks, her voice barely there and raspy.

What do I say; how the fuck do I explain the nightmare that I live constantly? I can’t. Instead I do the most dick move possible. I pull out of her and rush from the room without explanation.

Within minutes my bag is packed and I’m gone. Driving to an unknown destination in the dark of the night. I didn’t even say I was sorry.

I’m not sure where to go so I just drive. I’m not fit to be around normal people. Something broke in me out in Afghanistan, and I’m not sure I can ever be mended.

So I drive, and wait to see where the road takes me.

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About The Author

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Passionate reader, blogger, publisher, and author. I love nothing more than helping other Indie authors publish their books be that reviewing, beta reading, formatting or proofreading,

I love erotic suspense that’s well written and engages the reader, and I love promoting the heck out of it over on my book blog.

I’m a mother, but most of all I’m me!

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Other Books by Ava

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Strip Teaser
Naked Nights #1

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Strip Back
Naked Nights #0.5

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The Black Basque

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The Non Adventures of Alice the erotic author

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Severed Series

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Severed Angel
Severed MC #1

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Carnal Desire
Severed MC #2

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Severed Justice
Severed MC #3

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Carnal Persuasion
Severed MC #4

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New Release: Devil Seeker (Cycle Devils MC #1) by Clare Power

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Book: Devil Seeker
Series: Cycle Devils MC #1
Author: Clare Power
Genre: MC
Hosted by:Francessca’s Romance Reviews

Synopsis

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Kat is looking for a man, but not one in an MC

Backfire is not looking for much more than the occasional one-night stand

Here comes trouble…

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About The Author

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Hi- My name is Clare and though it shocks me I am an author.

I’m English and consider myself a biker, whether you do or not is up to you.

I started to ride bikes in 1980, and have been round bikes and bikers ever since.

I also ride and drive horses and craft.

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Cover Reveal: The Capo-Riccardo (Stud Mafia #2) by Elle Raven and Aimie Jennison

 
Title: The Capo: Riccardo
SERIES: Book Two – Stud Mafia Series
AUTHORS: Elle Raven and Aimie Jennison
RELEASE DATE: late April, 2014
GENRE: Erotic Thriller
COVER DESIGNER: Margret Asselbergs
PHOTOGRAPHER: Shauna Kruse

 

Temptation. Seduction. Forbidden pleasure.
As the right hand man to The Don, Riccardo Rossi’s role is all about Duty. Respect and Honour. Being the crime boss’s daughter, Lorena Morassi is forbidden. Although she is young and off limits, that doesn’t stop Riccardo from wanting her. She is a pure temptation and to have her would be a betrayal to his Boss and his mafia family.
Lorena has wanted Riccardo for years and she knows he wants her, too. Being with him would only cause bad blood between her father and his right hand man. She doesn’t want their strong friendship to be ruined, but her feelings for him grow, and Lorena knows she can’t stay away. But a night of seduction and forbidden pleasure changes everything.
Betrayal will not be tolerated and long-standing friendships will be broken.
Warning: This book contains violence, excessive language, and strong sexual content. It’s intended to be read by mature audiences

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Excerpt: Fighting Silence by Aly Martinez

FIGHTING SILENCE EXCERPT REVEAL

Fighting Silence Excerpt

“Hi.” I stood up off the bed as he started climbing through the window.

His eyes went wide when he saw me, causing him to momentarily lose his balance on the windowsill and go crashing to the floor. “God. Damn,” he cursed as he rose to his feet while taking in my new wardrobe. “You… I…um…” His hand went to his lip.

He was rooted in place only a few steps away, but his eyes traveled over every inch of my body and back again.

Till was speechless. I had never felt so empowered in my life.

“Are you okay?” I feigned concern as I slowly approached.

“Not even close,” he told my breasts, making me giggle.

After sliding a hand under the edge of his T-shirt, I raked a fingernail over each of his abs before dipping it into the waistband of his jeans.

“I’m sore today,” I announced, closing the distance between us. My breasts were pressed against him, but he still hadn’t even attempted to touch me yet. I had plans to remedy that. I smirked then stood up on my tiptoes, kissing the base of his neck. “Make me sore for tomorrow too.” At the last second, I darted my tongue out to the hollow dip at the base of his neck. It was meant to tease him, but as the taste of his skin hit my tongue, I was flooded with memories of taking more of him in my mouth. The moan escaped before I’d even felt it coming.

A loud rumble shook his chest, but that was the only warning I received. Suddenly, I was off my feet and sailing through the air. Just as I landed on the bed, Till crashed on top of me. His mouth roughly landed on mine.

“Tell me we can’t do this again,” he demanded as his hands found my breasts.

“We’re definitely doing this again.” I arched into him.

“It’s gonna get so messy, Eliza. Please.” He groaned as I reached into the front of his jeans.

“I’m okay with messy,” I breathed, guiding his hand from my breast and into my panties.

“Fuuuuuck” he cursed when he discovered just how thorough I’d been with the razor earlier. His finger pressed inside me as his body traveled down the bed and settled between my legs, stripping my panties off during his descent.

He added another finger in a less than gentle but overwhelmingly intoxicating, rhythm.

“Tell me to stop, Eliza. We can’t do this again.” He grazed his teeth on the inside of my thigh.

“We’re already doing it.”

“Tell me to stop.”

“No.”

“It’s going to ruin us.”

“If you don’t stop talking, you’re going to ruin this.”

“I’m serious.” He kissed the inside of my other thigh, his fingers never faltering in their steady pace.

“So am I. Stop trying to talk yourself out of this while your fingers are buried inside me.” I threaded a hand into his hair and gave it a gentle tug.

“Goddammit. Tell me to stop!” he demanded one last time, but his fingers sped before twisting in the most delicious way.

I decided to give him what he wanted, but only because I knew he wouldn’t follow through.

“Stop.” I rolled my hips forcing him even deeper.

“Well, it’s too fucking late now.”

I would have laughed, but his mouth sealed over my clit and stole my breath, words, thoughts, and orgasm. My body shook as he pushed me higher even while I was falling. It shouldn’t have worked like that, but whatever voodoo magic Till Page was working with that night was all right with me. He didn’t stop swirling his tongue until I used his hair to pry his mouth away.

“Too much!” I cried.

He looked up with a wickedly proud grin. His hand disappeared, and seconds later, his cock replaced it.

 

PRE-ORDER NOW AVAILABLE!

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1CF0YEq

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RELEASE DATE: February 23rd, 2015

Blurb

Sound is an abstract concept for most people. We spend our lives blocking out the static in order to focus on what we believe is important. But what if, when the clarity fades into silence, it’s the obscure background noise that you would give anything to hold on to?

 I’ve always been a fighter. With parents who barely managed to stay out of jail and two little brothers who narrowly avoided foster care, I became skilled at dodging the punches life threw at me. Growing up, I didn’t have anything I could call my own, but from the moment I met Eliza Reynolds, she was always mine.  I became utterly addicted to her and the escape from reality we provided each other. Throughout the years, she had boyfriends and I had girlfriends, but there wasn’t a single night that I didn’t hear her voice.

You see, meeting the love of my life at age thirteen was never part of my plan. However, neither was gradually going deaf at the age of twenty-one.

 

They both happened anyway.

 

Now, I’m on the ropes during the toughest battles of my life.

Fighting for my career.

Fighting the impending silence.

Fighting for her.

Every night, just before falling asleep, she sighs as a final conscious breath leaves her.

 I think that’s the sound I’ll miss the most.

 

About the Author:

Aly Martinez

aly martinezBorn and raised in Savannah, Georgia, Aly Martinez is a stay-at-home mom to four crazy kids under the age of five, including a set of twins. Currently living in South Carolina, she passes what little free time she has reading anything and everything she can get her hands on, preferably with a glass of wine at her side.

After some encouragement from her friends, Aly decided to add “Author” to her ever-growing list of job titles. Five books later, she shows no signs of slowing. So grab a glass of Chardonnay, or a bottle if you’re hanging out with Aly, and join her aboard the crazy train she calls life.

 

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