DUNMORE RISING

I am proud to announce the release of Dunmore Rising today, Book IV in my Demons of Dunmore series.

Love is mightier than the sword…

Sir Graham Dunmore is looking forward to competing in his first summer tournament—until he gets saddled with babysitting a prince in disguise, three fairy-godmothers he would much rather see fly back to where they came from, and a woman for a squire. Gone for years, Jiliana is now back in Westmyre, older, colder, with a lethal fighting skill that leaves him both impressed and intrigued.
Jili doesn’t recognize this sleek, well-trained man as the awkward friend from her youth. But seeing Graham again brings back painful memories of a brutal past. One that forces her to live a life of tight control, lest one slip unleash a deadly monster capable of hurting everyone in her path.
Yet as Graham patiently teaches her the arts of love, Jili has a glimmer of hope that she can finally control the killer that lurks inside her—until a ninja assassin begins to stalk the tournament.
With a heavy heart, she realizes Graham is going to need every skill she possesses to protect the prince—the very skills that could tear them apart forever.
Warning: This title contains cranky fairies, a gorgeous hero, and a heroine who just about kicks his ass…plus really sizzling sex told in naughty language.

Here is a special excerpt:

Graham knew the minute he entered the prince’s tent the night was not going to go well. Silk pillows and soft fur rugs were strewn over the floor, next to trays filled with wine and ale from every part of the kingdom. Mostly naked dancers writhed to a sultry drum-beat, descending on him like a swarm of locusts as soon as he’d been granted entrance.
And in the midst of all the decadence, Bert sat surrounded by half a dozen of the loveliest women there.
“Well, well, well.” Graham bent over to step beneath a fall of silk draped from the ceiling. “To what do I owe this honor?” He smiled wolfishly at the woman dressed in only several long pearl necklaces who handed him a mug of ale. “My thanks.”
Jili would be appalled at the obvious excess, he thought, sitting where the prince indicated. As his mind pictured her dressed in nothing but strands of jewels, his cock raised its head in anticipation. Decadent it might be, but he knew she would move even more gracefully than the dancers in the tent. In fact, the more he studied them, the more they seemed to lack a certain…elegance. Whereas Jili moved with an effortless poise and style, these women were too practiced. Too vulgar, he realized in amazement as his mind finally grasped the truth. What would have set his loins on fire not so many weeks ago now looked base and pitiably put-on.
He took a long drink and studied Bert over the rim of the glass. What did the princeling have planned for him tonight?
“Beautiful, aren’t they?” The prince pulled one of his harem close and pinched a heavily rouged nipple. The color smeared, and for the very first time in his life, Graham was actually embarrassed to be in such debauched and wanton company.
“You would pay for nothing but the best,” he answered smoothly before finishing his ale and motioning for another. “Surely you didn’t bring them all with you? ’Twould not seem right that a lowly knight could afford such expensive entertainment.”
“A gift from Earl Rulfert to his favorite in the tournament. He sends them from the castle every night.” Bert laughed and nudged his hand between the woman’s legs. She gasped in a contrived voice and licked her lips at Graham.
He smiled back, not enjoying the show in the least. “The earl knows who you are.” On some level Graham had known it all along.
“Of course.”
“How many others? Your anonymity grows weaker by the day.”
The prince shrugged one shoulder negligently. “As long as the men continue to challenge me in the lists, I don’t care who knows.” He dismissed the subject in the blink of an eye, his smile growing feral in the flickering light of the candles. “I have a challenge for you.” A motion of his hand had six women flocking to sit with Graham, a perfect match for the prince’s companions.
Graham raised a mocking brow. “A challenge you will undoubtedly fail.” He drank the second glass faster than the first and gestured for a third.
Bert laughed and the women added their chorus of vapid giggles. Graham made a pretense of stroking the hair of the woman who’d put her head on his lap. She smelled of liquor and stale sex, a combination that his treacherous manhood refused to be aroused by.
When her hand inched slowly toward his crotch, he grabbed the woman’s wrist and growled. She laughed, but did not move to touch him again. Bert’s eyes narrowed in dark amusement and Graham knew that he’d seen the gesture for what it truly was…a revulsion he couldn’t hide.
“I heard you topped five women in a single night,” Bert said carelessly. “A record we both share.”
Graham snorted.
The prince continued without a pause, glancing pointedly at the dozen women between them. “Six each. I’ll wager I finish mine long before you finish yours.” He spread his legs and pulled one woman’s head between his thighs, rubbing his groin into her face. Her fingers caressed him through his breeches as her teeth worked to untie the lacings. The prince gritted his teeth as she stroked him into full arousal.

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