Healing Gabe by Muriel Garcia Cover Reveal.

Title: Healing Gabe

Series: The Last Hangman MC #3

Author: Muriel Garcia

Cover Design: Rebecca Marie @ The Final Wrap

 Release Date: April 25, 2015

Synopsis

From the day he was 18, Gabe’s life changed drastically. He lost both of his parents in a tragic car accident and had to raise his 8 years old sister, Nicole. All he wanted to do was party and enjoy his teenage life and go to college. Instead, he had to mature really fast, find a job that would allow him time with his sister but also bring enough money to keep a roof above their heads, pay the bills, feed them and make her happy.

As if things weren’t bad enough, Gabe finds himself in the middle of two clubs at war. On one faithful night, he meets the one woman that will hold his heart forever, becomes the target of the most vicious MC around Louisiana and becomes a prospect for the Last Hangman.

What happens when the love of your life is taken from you and you have to witness her horrible demise?

Things aren’t always what they seem.

Vivian had to keep a low profile after running away from home twelve years ago. She lost everything that same night and has been left empty and feeling scared for years, but she’s done feeling scared. She wants to be happy again and for that, she comes back to New Orleans.

What happened when Gabe and Vivian see each other again?

Both of their past catches up with them, bringing down innocent people. Betrayal, new found family, love and hate.

Gabe never thought he could love again, Vivian only wants to heal him and make him feel whole again. Can they find their happiness together or will their past be too strong and tear them apart forever?

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Author Bio

Muriel Garcia grew up in Belgium. She loves music, tattoos, hot tattooed men, travelling, and cooking. She always had an overly imaginative and creative mind but never thought of writing a book up until a couple of months ago. Now she couldn't imagine not writing stories that are near and dear to her heart.

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Declan (Wounded Heroes) by Ava Manello OUT NOW!!!!

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

Synopsis



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



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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Matt:the beginning by Viveca Benoir OUT NOW!!!

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:



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



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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To Murder Matt
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Dancing With Devia
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Velvet Kisses by Addison Moore Blog Tour

༺✿* Velvet Kisses *✿༻ 

3:AM Kisses Book 6

(Can be read as a stand alone)

ROMANTIC COMEDY

~Addison Moore~

Marley Jackson has an axe to grind with the entire male population. After having her heart brutally broken, she’s out to prove to herself, and the world, that a woman only needs one thing from a man—and it isn’t love. 

Wyatt James isn’t interested in anything that resembles a commitment. He’s self-made, secure, and happy to entertain a one-night stand any day of the week—enter Marley. 

Marley quickly dispels the idea that she’s anybody’s one-night stand. What Marley has in store for Wyatt is far more complex and requires a binding contract to back it. 

Marley and Wyatt aren’t in it for love. Marley is looking to glean some expertise in the bedroom. Wyatt is looking to find some solace after a string of nameless faces that have rocked his bed. 

But when feelings change, and that four-letter word takes ahold of both their hearts, they’re left to face the fact they might be in deeper than either of them thought possible. 

Marley and Wyatt smolder beneath the sheets. 

She’s eager to learn—yet, bossy as hell. 

He’s eager to lay down one hard lesson after the other, yet determined to save her from herself. 

Sometimes heartbreak is the greatest teacher. 

Sometimes it leads you into the arms of the one you belonged with right from the start.

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“Aren’t I the lucky birthday boy?” His dimples dig in tight, no smile. There’s an earnestness about him that spells out orgasm in the making, and my thighs quiver because if I’m not careful I’ll achieve the big O before we ever get started.

“Actually”—I clasp onto the tie that he’s neatly paired with dark denim and chukka boots, my all time favorite—“I’m the lucky one. I win because I have you.”

He winces before his dimples dig in ten times deeper.

“Clothes off.” The smile drops from his face. Wyatt is a man who is used to being pleased, when and how he wishes, and most likely by whomever he wants.

“Yes, Professor James.” I reach back and unzip my dress, letting it drop to the floor in a celebrated thump. I hook my thumbs into the sides of my panties and slowly pull them over my curves. Wyatt’s eyes float down to my hips. His chest expands as if he’s pleased with what he sees. I let them glide off, soft as a feather and carefully step out of the fabric puddle, wobbling on my heels in the process.

God, God, God, don’t fall! I do a little dance trying to right myself and land a few inches closer to him with my see-through lace bra and heels the only foreign objects on my body. I reach back and unhook my bra, letting the girls spring out like a couple of hopped up cheerleaders anxious for the big game. It slides off without any help on my part as if it were fleeing the scene. I take a deep breath and pull my shoulders back as his gaze heats my body by at least twenty degrees. “Your turn, cowboy.”

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Addison Moore is a New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal bestselling author who writes contemporary and paranormal romance. Her work has been featured in Cosmopolitan Magazine. Previously she worked as a therapist on a locked psychiatric unit for nearly a decade. She resides on the West Coast with her husband, four wonderful children, and two dogs where she eats too much chocolate and stays up way too late. When she's not writing, she's reading.

                    

~ Feel free to visit her blog at:
   http://bit.ly/AddisonMoore-Blog

~ Be sure to subscribe to Addison’s mailing list for sneak peeks and updates on all upcoming releases!
   http://bit.ly/AddisonMoore-MailingList

The 3:AM Kisses Series

*EACH BOOK CAN BE READ AS A STAND ALONE NOVEL*

3:AM Kisses 1-3 Box Set

Get the first 3 books in the 3:AM Kisses Series, all together in one set.

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3:AM Kisses 

Meet Baya and Bryson.....

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Winter Kisses

Get to know Laney and Ryder....

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Sugar Kisses

Have fun with Roxy and Cole....

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Whiskey Kisses

Obsess over Izzy and Holt....

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Rock Candy Kisses

 Fall in love with Annie and Blake....

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Velvet Kisses

  Fuel the fire with Marley and Wyatt....

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