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
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.
“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.
About The Author
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.
Other Books By Viveca