Here's the first one:
A Witch's Holiday Wedding by Tena Stetler
Elemental witch, Pepper McKay and former Navy SEAL, Lathen Quartz have built Lobster Cove Wildlife Rescue and Rehabilitation Center on enchanted McKay land. During a romantic interlude on Halloween night, Pepper happily agrees to become Lathen’s wife. What better day than Winter Solstice for their wedding in a town that loves celebrations and Christmas. However, planning a wedding and operating their wildlife center takes a toll on both Pepper and Lathen.
When the couple takes a much-needed break for Thanksgiving with family in Colorado, a Maine snowstorm fills the center with injured wildlife. Lathen finds himself drawn into a covert military mission, while trying to deal with issues concerning friends and family. Pepper wants to cancel the wedding. Is she having second thoughts? Will the nosy McKay ghosts, Lathen’s werewolf pack, Pepper’s parents, and her best friend help or hinder the wedding and holiday plans?
A strong arm whipped around her waist, the air whooshed out as she squealed. Pepper balled up her gloved fist as a large warm hand wrapped around her wrist. "I've seen you defend yourself. Not going to chance it." A deep voice chuckled behind her.
"Lathen -- I'm going to..."
He spun her around and covered her cold lips with his warm ones. Werewolves run several degrees warmer than most of the population, one of the many things she loved about him. She relaxed into him, their parkas making a wisping sound as the material rubbed against each other. "That's better," he murmured against her lips.
All at once the lights in the town square blinked on. Low positioned red and green laser light decorations sparkled over the snow-covered ground and onto the gazebo complementing the white lights. From the other direction, a blue laser sprinkled tiny snowflakes across the building. Evening fell quickly in December.
"This is absolutely beautiful," She breathed against his chilled cheek and whirled out of his hold taking in all the lighted decorations not visible earlier. Then she pointed toward the bulletin board. "I've been reading the town's holiday events, Lobster Cove really embraces Christmas."
"Told you." Lathen said smugly. "Even some of the boats docked in the harbor are decked out with colored lights."
Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01MA1GYIB
Amazon AU : http://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B01MA1GYIB
Amazon Canada : https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B01MA1GYIB
The Wild Rose Press: http://catalog.thewildrosepress.com/search?controller=search&orderby=position&orderway=desc&search_query=A+Witch%27s+Holiday+Wedding&submit_search=
Barnes & Noble: Not available yet.
About the Author:
Tena Stetler is a paranormal romance and cozy mystery author with an over-active imagination. She wrote her first vampire romance at the age of thirteen, to the chagrin of her mother and the delight of her friends. Colorado is home; shared with her husband, a brilliant Chow Chow, a spoiled parrot and a forty-year-old box turtle. Any winter evening, you can find her curled up in front of a crackling fire with a good book, a mug of hot chocolate and a big bowl of popcorn. Her books tell tales of magical kick-ass women and mystical alpha males that dare to love them.
Facebook Page: www.facebook.com/tenastetler.author
Twitter Page: www.twitter.com/TenaStetler
Here's the second one:
With Christmas just a few weeks away, Gia San Valentino, the baby in her large, loud, and loving Italian family, yearns for a life and home of her own with a husband and bambini she can love and spoil. The single scene doesn’t interest her, and the men her well-meaning family introduce her to aren’t exactly the happily-ever-after kind.
Tim Santini believes he’s finally found the woman for him, but Gia will take some convincing she’s that girl. A misunderstanding has her thinking he’s something he’s not.
Can a kiss stolen under the Christmas lights persuade her to spend the rest of her life with him?
After an hour of helping people move supplies from cars, I passed by mama who was carrying a humongous plastic swaddled baby Jesus statue for the crèche when she called out, “The new guy is here.”
“Where?” I put down the ladder I’d been carting and looked in the general direction of where she’d pointed her chin since her arms were full of the Lord.
I found him in an instant. It wasn’t difficult because he was the only guy in the parking lot I didn’t recognize. Plus, he was dressed head to toe in basic clergy black. Black long sleeved shirt under a black vest over black trousers and standard issue shiny black boring priest shoes.
His back was to me and he was carrying a table, but after he put it down and turned around I got a good look at the front of him.
And Holy Mary, Mother of God, what a front he had.
Close cropped military style hair the color of wind blown wheat topped a head which stood – truly – head and shoulders above everyone else around. The guy had to be six-three at least. Sharp, etched cheekbones God cut with a knife, sat under deep and dark oval shaped eyes. His face was a composite of planes and angles, the carved cheeks meeting up with a chiseled-from-stone chin. Hardened concrete looked softer than this guy’s jawline. His nose was perfectly fixed in the center of his face, the slight aquiline bend at the tip bringing to mind Michelangelo’s David, the cupid’s bow under it well-defined and pronounced. Clean shaven, his mouth was full and thick and - God help me – looked utterly kissable.
I could tell even with the chunky vest covering his torso, he was closer to thin than stocky, but from the way his biceps pulled against his sleeves, he had some muscle to him.
And some pair of legs. They went on forever, from heaven to earth in a full, hard line.
I don’t know how long I stood there just gawking with my mouth open like an empty cannoli shell waiting to be filled, but I’m being truthful when I say I couldn’t move. My feet were frozen to the ground, my knees had locked, and my hips weren’t taking me anywhere soon.
This was one beautiful man.
The old masters would have used him as a springboard for their work, and I could actually picture him in a Botticelli fresco, garbed in Roman robes, lounging while naked, buxom-breasted chubby women fed him grapes and sweetmeats.
In the time it took for a hummingbird to flap its wings once, I pictured myself as one of those women.
Wild Rose Press: http://catalog.thewildrosepress.com/paperback-books/4703-a-kiss-under-the-christmas-lights-paperback.html?search_query=a+kiss+under+the+christmas+lights+by+peggy+jaeger&results=2
About the Author:
Peggy Jaeger is a contemporary romance novelist who writes about strong women, the families who support them, and the men who can’t live without them.
Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B00T8E5LN0
And third but not least:
Match Made in the Highlands by Pam Binder
Logan Mackinnon, confirmed bachelor, has put his life on hold to help his father care for his mother and honor her dying wish to tour Stirling Castle. Sparks fly when Logan meets Irene Redmond on the tour, and they are both transported back in time to the thirteenth century. But their budding romance is tested when they learn the conditions needed for their return to the twenty-first century. The castle is enchanted and only a marriage between two people who truly love each other will break the spell.
Irene Redmond expected to unravel family secrets, instead she meets Logan Mackinnon, a man who awakens long-ago dreams of a happily-ever-after. But are their feelings strong enough to break the castle's enchantment?
Strong arms wrapped around her. "Don't worry," Logan said. "I've go you."
She clung to his neck as he gathered her closer. She could feel his heart beat against her chest, or was that hers? Random thoughts popped in and out. How had he reached her so fast? Did he think she was clumsy? Too heavy?
Pathetic. He'd saved her, and all she could think about was her weight. Still...
She squirmed in his arms. "Thank you, but you can put me down."
"And blow my one chance to rescue a beautiful damsel in distress? Not a chance. Besides, we're almost there."
Although the bagpipes were louder and she could hear the haunting notes of a flute, the mist was as dense as ever. "How can you tell?" She said.
She felt a rumble of laughter rise in his chest. "It's a guess. I haven't a clue."
Pam Binder is an award-winning Amazon and New York Times bestselling author. Publishers Weekly has said: "Binder gracefully weaves elements of humor, magic and romantic testions into her novels." Drawn to Celtic legends and anything Irish or Scottish, Pam blends historical events, characters, and myths into everything she writes. Pam is also a conference speaker, writing instructor, and president of the Pacific Northwest Writers Association.