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Showing posts with label 99 cent ebook sale. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 99 cent ebook sale. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 6, 2016

Wolf Pack Run - Huge book sale!



Greetings, all!

I'm excited to announce that I'm part of the Howling Good Romance Authors Group sale, which they term the Wolf Pack Run. There are 26 paranormal romance and urban fantasy books, each of which is on sale for 99 cents, including The Mountain's Shadow. There are also a couple of box sets in there, too.

Even better - there's a giveaway for $100 and $50 gift cards.

Intrigued yet?

Check out this page for the giveaway link and a list of the books. I will probably end up grabbing some of them for myself, too! :-)

Thanks, and happy reading!

Cecilia


Saturday, August 15, 2015

Blood's Shadow on sale for 99 cents through August 21!

Encountering werewolves can be deadly.
Trying to cure them? Murder.
I'm pleased to announce that the third Lycanthropy Files book Blood's Shadow is on sale now through Friday, August 21 for 99 cents. Here are the buy links:

Samhain Publishing (all ebook formats)

Although this is the third in the Lycanthropy Files series, it was written to be read alone if necessary. Here's what Paranormal Romance Authors that Rock had to say about it:From the Paranormal Romance Authors that Rock review:

This is my first time reading any of Cecilia Dominic’s books.  It won’t be the last. I enjoyed her  spin on the werewolf tales.

This book was more of a Werewolf mystery with a dash of romance.  The characters were well thought out and complex.
Strong writing, hooked me from the start to the end...

(click here for the full five-fang review)

As the Investigator for the Lycanthrope Council, Gabriel McCord encountered his share of sticky situations in order to keep werewolf kind under the radar of discovery. Now, as the Council's liaison to the Institute for Lycanthropic Reversal, he advocates for those who were turned werewolf against their will. 

Everyone seems to be on board with the Institute’s controversial experimental process—until one of its geneticists is found lying on his desk in a pool of blood.

Gabriel races to single out a killer from a long list of suspects: Purists, who believe lycanthropy is a gift that shouldn’t be returned. Young Bloods, who want the cure for born lycanthropes as well as made. The Institute's own very attractive psychologist, whose most precious possession has fallen into the hands of an ancient secret society bent on the destruction of werewolves. 

Failure means he’ll lose his place on the Council and endanger the tenuous truce between wizard and lycanthrope. Even if he wins, he could lose his heart to a woman with deadly secrets of her own.

Warning: Some bloody scenes, adult language, and consensual sex between adults. Also alcohol consumption at Scottish levels and tempting portrayals of unhealthy Scottish food.

From Chapter Eight:

I checked through the peephole and saw the last person I expected: Selene.

I opened the door and pulled Selene inside. “Are you crazy? You don’t know who might be out there!”

“What is your problem?” She detached her arm from my grip and narrowed her eyes at the Scotch in my hand. “Are you drinking that straight from the bottle?”

“No, I’m drinking it from a glass like a gentleman,” I said and motioned for her to follow me into the kitchen, thinking it would be best to introduce her to David before he surprised us. But when I got in there, I saw he’d left through the side door. His empty glass sat on the counter beside the letter from my father, and the sound of his car’s engine started and moved away.

“What’s that?” she asked and reached for it.

“Official business,” I told her and picked it up. It barely had any weight to it, and I handled it carefully.

“From when, nineteen hundred?”

“Nineteen forty-three,” I murmured.

She shook her head. “Look, I’m sorry if I’m interrupting something,” she said. “I was driving by and…” She squeezed her eyes shut. “That’s a lie. I looked you up and found you.”

I bit my tongue so I wouldn't ask if she’d consulted her scarfaced concussion-dealing friend before showing up for a visit. “What can I fix you to drink?”

She opened her eyes, and her open face betrayed her surprise. How had she gotten mixed up with that bloke at the pub? She reeked of innocence, but she was no dummy. “To drink?” she asked.

“The rules of hospitality dictate that if a guest shows up at one’s residence, one should offer some sort of refreshment. Thus, would you like a drink?”

She nodded. “Do you have any wine?”

I gestured to my dual zone wine fridge. “Red or white?”

“White, please.”

Soon I had her settled with a glass of Chenin Blanc on the opposite end of the sofa. The similarity to David’s visit from earlier didn’t escape me, but she was nicer to look at.

“So what brings you to Shady Acres?” I asked. “I’m afraid it’s not the Scotland in coffee table books.”
“It’s fine,” she said. “It’s not so different from home except our historical houses are a couple, not several, hundred years old. As for what brings me…” She looked into her glass. “I wanted to know how the investigation into Otis’s death is going.”

“I had official business today, so I wasn’t able to do any investigating, but I will give it my full attention tomorrow. I’m hoping Garou will have his reports ready by then.”

“Are you going to question us? He already did.”

“That depends. Can you add to your statement?”

“Garou implied we were dating,” she said. “But we weren’t. But still, it’s my fault that Otis died.”

That drew my attention away from the curve of her neck and the way one button on her blouse seemed to hang on for dear life over her breasts. “Fill me in here. How does Garou’s implication cause you to be a murderer?”

She blinked, and two fat tears trailed down her cheeks. “Other people thought we were dating, or at least that we were more than friends. Because we were the same age and American, maybe. Lonna even hinted that it wouldn’t be a good idea to cross personal and professional relationships.” She snorted. “Like she’s not married to her co-director.”

“Right. Believe me, we did consider that, but we need both of them. Go on. I’m still not convinced LeConte’s death is your fault.”

“That morning after staffing, he asked me to walk with him to his office. He said he had something to ask me. I was afraid of what he’d say, he looked so hopeful and afraid all at the same time. I said no, I had things I needed to do before your visit. The next time I saw him, he was dead.”

“What do you think he was going to ask you?”

“To go out with him, I guess. I don’t know what else it could have been. But don’t you see? If I’d gone to his office with him, he might not have been killed or he would have had warning that something wasn’t right. You know we hear and smell better than humans do.”

“Or they might have gotten you too,” I reminded her. “Did you go to his office between his request to you that morning and when we found him?”

“I…” She looked down at her now empty wine glass. “I didn’t.”

I knew she was lying, but I didn’t want to confront her and spook my only link to the murder’s witness into running for the States. That she opened up to me even minimally gave me hope she would continue to do so as she came to trust me. “Do you remember anything else unusual about him or his behavior that day?”

“No, only that he was excited about getting the applications. He had a project on the side tracing the family records of known lycanthrope lines, and he was looking forward to putting it all together to see how the subjects’ lines intersected with the ones we know about and to isolate another genetic marker to maybe figure out why Chronic Lycanthropy Syndrome fully expresses in some people but not in others.” She shrugged. “That’s all I can remember.”

“I appreciate your coming to visit me today, but was it really necessary?”

“I needed to talk to you outside the Institute. I don’t feel comfortable there anymore.” She shuddered.
“It’s like I’m being watched.”

I thought about the letter in the kitchen. “I know the feeling.”

She stood, and I did as well. “Thank you for the wine,” she said and held out her glass to me.

“My pleasure.” Our fingertips brushed when she handed the crystal over, and again, I got the image of her as a wolf looking into a pool of water, not unlike where David and I had stopped and been shot at that afternoon.

She looked up at me with a smile she tucked away, and again, I wondered what she’d seen. It was unusual enough for such strong visual images to come through with scent, and for them to do so with touch puzzled me. Was it part of me coming into my full power?

“I should be going,” she said.

I followed her to the front door. “Be careful,” I told her. “You don’t know who or what is out there watching.”

With a quick nod, she walked to her car and went to the passenger side before sighing and going to the driver’s side. She must not have been in the country that long if she was still trying to drive from the wrong side of the car. I hoped she would remember what side of the road to use.

Don't forget! Eros Element will be released on August 25. Stay tuned for blog tour schedule. If you'd like to join in the release day fun, I will be participating in a chat with Fresh Fiction at 11:30 CT (12:30 EDT) on Twitter. Here's the link.



From 5:30 to 9:30, I'll be doing a Facebook party with guest authors. RSVP to join the event here. There will be book giveaways and prizes!


Friday, July 31, 2015

Long Shadows on sale August 1-7!

"People say I'm beautiful, but they don't see the monster inside..."

That's how the second book of the Lycanthropy Files series starts. The feedback I got from readers is that they love the heroine Lonna for her snarky, clever tone. The hero Max is a hot doctor with a Caribbean accent and some unusual talents. Haven't read the first one? That's okay - I wrote them as a series but also to be read as standalones as well. If you'd like to start at the beginning, you can read about the first Lycanthropy Files book The Mountain's Shadow here.

The Long Shadows ebook is available for 99 cents from August 1-7 from:

Samhain Publishing (all formats)
Amazon
Barnes & Noble
Kobo
Anywhere else ebooks are sold.


Being unique isn’t always what it’s cracked up to be.

By day, Lonna Marconi’s busy career keeps her mind off the fact she was turned werewolf against her will. By night, a dose of wolfsbane lets her inner wolf out to play while her physical body stays safe at home.

When an overheard phone call at work warns her a trap is about to be sprung, she turns from hunter to hunted in the blink of an eye.

She finds refuge with the Ozarks pack she never claimed as her own. Upon discovering a family secret that explains why she’s unique among her own kind, Lonna finds heat in the arms of Max, who’s the one thing she cannot trust—a wizard.

Another kidnapping attempt sends her navigating the treacherous metaphysical borders of a centuries-old war, pursued by rogue sorcerers, a band of ghostly wolves, and repressed memories that prevent her from reclaiming her heritage. All the while, trusting her back to a wizard who demands the price of her heart…who may not have the luxury of giving his in return.

Excerpt:

I hadn’t physically changed since the first time six months before. Then, in a trance, I had opened the front door to my apartment, taken off my clothes, and changed into a wolf with the world watching. Okay, not quite the world. It was pretty late, and my apartment complex was quiet. Since then, I had spirit-walked with the aid of the aconite, which caused me to create an astral projection of my wolf self rather than physically change. Somehow I could still eat what I hunted, and I hoped that wouldn’t translate into bad blood work. Who knew how much wild critters would raise one’s cholesterol? A stupid concern, I know, considering everything else. It’s funny what the mind latches on to. 

Now I sat in the living room at Joanie’s and Leo’s house with them, all of us wrapped in sheets, as we waited for the moon to rise and for its light to sing in our blood. We could change without it, but it was easier in its light, which compelled us when it was full. I suppressed the urge to giggle at the sight, like we were at the most boring toga party ever. Joanie caught my eye, and her lips twitched like she thought the same. 

The moon rose, its light spilling through the bank of windows. 

“It’s time,” Joanie murmured. 

My inner wolf stretched and yawned, unfurling to her full spiritual presence. 

“We can change? she asked. Really change?” 

“Yes, just be gentle with me.” Again I stuffed the urge to laugh. I hadn’t said those words in a really long time. 

I gasped when my human spirit shrank. The sensation was that of hurtling down a long hallway, then 
landing in a warm pool and expanding within it to fill a new shape. The inner wolf and I became one. 

I heard tendons snapping and bones cracking in new arrangements and suspected I would be sore the next day.

A light nip to my shoulder brought me back to myself, and I shifted my weight so I stood evenly on all four paws. Leo, a black wolf, sat and looked at me, his tongue lolling in amusement. Joanie, a petite brown wolf who could probably pass for one of the Arkansas red wolves, had nipped me.

“You were quivering like you were ready to explode with the sensations of it all,” she said telepathically. 

“It’s different from when we spirit-walk,” I responded. “I feel heavier but more powerful.” 

“Do you remember anything of the first time? When Iain and I chased after you?” 

“Only that I wanted to get away and be free. And Gabriel…” 

A low growl from Leo halted that line of conversation. Not that I blamed him. Gabriel had tried to claim Joanie first. 

“Moonlight’s wasting, girls,” he said but waited for Joanie to lead us out of the house through a—oh, the shame!—doggie door in the mud room. 

“It was the easiest solution,” Joanie told me once we were through. I heard the wry smile in her voice. 

Once we were fully in the moonlight, the dry brown grass under my paws, I didn’t care that we’d been relegated to the status of mere canis domesticus or whatever the hell regular dogs were. I chased after her, nipping at her flank, and she mock-growled at me. We tumbled and tussled before I drew back.

“When do we hunt?” It came out as a vocal whine. 

“When Matthew arrives.” Leo looked around, his ears perked. “He should have been here by now.” 

“Maybe he got delayed by something? Too much traffic on the road, perhaps, or the cubs wanting to come with him?” The image of the playful pups didn’t dispel the concern in Joanie’s mental voice, and I remembered Matthew saying they never hunted alone anymore. 

Leo paced back and forth on the lawn. “He said he’d be on time.” 

A gunshot rang out, and all of us sat up, ears swiveling back and forth. 

“What the hell was that?” I asked. “Okay, I know what it was, but what was it?” Human logical processes weren’t exactly working well, but they knew what I meant. 

“Danger!” Joanie yelled in her mental voice, and we scrambled for the house, but another gunshot and a puff of wet dirt and grass in front of Leo, who had the lead, sent us toward the woods.


Thanks for reading! If you'd like to grab the ebook for 99 cents from August 1-7, here are the links again:

Samhain Publishing (all formats)
Amazon
Barnes & Noble
Kobo
Anywhere else ebooks are sold.

Also, don't forget that Eros Element, the first in my steampunk Aether Psychics series is now available for preorder. You can learn more about it here.

If you'd like to stay informed about sales and new releases as well as get the first peek at cover reveals and excerpts, please sign up for my e-newsletter. I send them out one to two times per month and include sleep tips and information about wines I've enjoyed lately. You can sign up here.

Saturday, July 18, 2015

The Mountain's Shadow - on sale for 99 cents through July 24!


In anticipation of Eros Element coming out in August, my urban fantasy series will be on sale, one book at a time, one week at a time this summer. Yes, Eros Element is steampunk, but there are a lot of readers - like me! - who like both.

Here are the buy links for the first, The Mountain's Shadow, which is on sale for 99 cents now through July 24:

Samhain Publishing
Amazon
Barnes & Noble
iTunes/Apple
Kobo

Some mistakes can literally come back to bite you.
The Lycanthropy Files, Book 1

First it was ADD. Then pediatric bipolar. Now the hot behavioral disorder in children is CLS, or Chronic Lycanthropy Syndrome. Public health researcher Joanie Fisher was closing in on the cause in hopes of finding a treatment until a lab fire and an affair with her boss left her without a job.

When her grandfather leaves her his multimillion-dollar estate in the Ozarks, though, she figures her luck is turning around. Except her inheritance comes with complications: town children who disappear during full moons, an irresistible butler, and a pack of werewolves who can’t seem to decide whether to frighten her or flirt with her.

Joanie’s research is the key to unraveling the mysteries of Wolfsbane Manor.  However, resuming her work means facing painful truths about her childhood, which could result in the loss of love, friendship, and the only true family she has left.

Warning: Some sexy scenes, although nothing explicit, and adult language. Also alcohol consumption and food descriptions that may wreck your diet.

Here's an excerpt, the first time Joanie sees the wolves and recognizes that CLS might be more than a psychiatric disorder:

At three o’clock I was wide awake. Sure, I felt like someone had hit me over the head with a wine bottle, but something had awakened me, and for once it wasn’t the usual nightmare. Although at that time of night, it seemed like bad dreams couldn’t be too far away. No, it had to be something else, something external. I listened and discerned voices coming from outside. For a moment, I dismissed it as the usual hubbub outside my apartment, but then I jerked fully awake. I was at my grandfather’s manor in the middle of nowhere, Arkansas. The only people in the house were me, Lonna and the butler.

I put on my robe and slippers and tiptoed down the hall and stairs. My feet remembered the location of the creaky boards and avoided them. Instead of going through the front door, I crept through the kitchen and out the side door to the small kitchen garden.

The almost full moon illuminated the lawn and surrounding trees with weird shadows. I paused and crouched behind a hedge and tried to still the beating of my heart so my ears could pick up the voices again.

“Let Ronan make the kill,” one of them, a female argued. The voice sounded familiar. I peeked through the shrubs and saw a pack of wolves too large to be Arkansas red wolves or coyotes. Two of them, the largest and smallest, were black, and they were accompanied by a silver wolf and a golden one. They circled a deer, the animal’s eyes wide with fear at having been driven out into the open and surrounded by predators.

“He’s messy.”

“He’s young,” another replied.

Talking wolves? Am I dreaming? I shut my eyes and opened them after a few seconds. Nope, still there.

“I don’t know, guys. We shouldn’t be here.”

“The old man always let us hunt here. Why should now be different?”

“His granddaughter—”

“Is a flat-chested, elf-faced ivory-tower academic who won’t even know we’ve been here.” It was the female’s voice again. “If you’re careful, Ronan.”

The golden wolf lunged at the deer but misjudged its angle, and two of the others leapt aside as the animal crashed through their circle, hooves flying.

“We’ve got to figure out how real wolves do this,” panted the silver one as they took chase.

Real wolves? I shook my head. It was too incredible. What were these things? And what did my grandfather have to do with them?

I waited five or ten minutes to make sure they wouldn’t come back and staggered to my feet, my head still reeling from what I’d just witnessed. Especially the last comment by the gray wolf. If they weren’t real wolves, what were they?

“Amazing night, isn’t it?”

The voice shocked me, and I wheeled around. For a moment, it sounded like my grandfather, and I was transported back in time to my childhood as he and I stood on the balcony and found constellations. I was never good at it, my brain already bent to the reality of math and science rather than fanciful creatures in the stars.

A flicker of flame and then the smoldering ash of the end of a cigarette brought me back to the present. I coughed.

“Thought I’d light up while you thought about your answer.”

Leonard Bowman stood there, leaves stuck to his sweater and jeans. The light of his cigarette and the moon flickered in his dark eyes.

“What are you doing here?”

He raised an eyebrow. “I could ask you the same question.”

“It’s my grandfather’s house.”

No answer, just a long stream of smoke.

“It’s my house,” I finally said. The words felt awkward on my tongue, and I became aware I was standing in my nightshirt and boxers in a flimsy robe on a cool night. I shivered.

“So your lawyer says.”

I tried my best imitation of a Gabriel shrug. Leonard smiled and dropped the cigarette, which extinguished with a hiss in the dew-damp grass.

“So do you always lurk in the bushes of your own house?”

My cheeks burned with the flush that crept up my neck. “Not always. Sometimes I lurk in the trees.”

“I’d be careful if I were you, then.” A smile flickered across his lips, but his eyes remained serious. “You never know what might be in the woods around here.”


Thank you so much for reading the excerpt! If you would like to know when the next two books in the series will be on sale or to find out more about my other books, sleep (I'm a behavioral sleep medicine specialist), and wine, please sign up for my email newsletter.

To purchase The Mountain's Shadow, please visit one of the following or anywhere ebooks are sold:

Samhain Publishing
Amazon
Barnes & Noble
iTunes/Apple
Kobo