Publication date: August 16th 2019
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
She’s just met the man of her dreams…but he’s not who he said he was. Neither is she. Until they get a second chance to make a first impression.
Is he a sophisticated big-city lawyer, or an easygoing small-town woodworker? And if she’s not a career-driven high-powered attorney, then who is she? Hiding behind their masks is second nature until circumstances force them to see beneath the surface and realize just how alike—and in love—they really are.
He’s only got one rule: no lawyers. She’s a lawyer.
Burned by experience, Buck’s got a rule for a reason. After walking away from a lucrative legal position, he found his peace in Beckley. Life on the farm is simple, and his woodworking business is thriving. He’s not interested in trading his work boots for wingtips and rejoining the rat race. So what if she’s the most compelling woman he’s ever met?
She’s only got one requirement: no a**holes. He’s an a**hole.
After a disastrous encounter in a trendy bar, Nichelle’s convinced that he’s an over-muscled a**hole. She’s got a sleek car, luxurious condo, and elegant designer clothes. Family comes first, and her legal career is on the fastest track. She’s never met a problem she couldn’t solve on her own. So what if he can see beneath her carefully constructed façade?
They’re perfect together. They just don’t know it yet.
Welcome back to Beckley, Michigan! Autumn is in the air and as the days get shorter, the air gets cooler and the calm lakes reflect the blue skies and red-gold trees for a double-dose of fall color. The people are just as warm, friendly, smart, funny, and real as you remember. When you need a place to call home, Beckley welcomes you—and sometimes the family you choose is as strong as the bonds you’re born with.
If you like small-town romance, you’ll like Beckley. If you like smart heroines who balance demanding professional careers with a commitment to family, friends, and finding love, then you’ll definitely like it here. If you like strong, sexy, hard-working heroes who have not-so-secret soft spots for kids, dogs, and classic cars, you may find that you never want to leave!
Knowing Nichelle is the third in the Beckley’s Daughters Romance series. It can be read as a stand-alone story, but continuing readers will recognize many of the characters and locations. This series is recommended for adult readers and contains explicit language and intimate situations.
“Welcome to the Alpha Quadrant!” the bartender shouted as he poured two whiskies and set them on the bar before us. I finally took a good look around the space; it had been decorated by someone with a serious Star Trek fixa…oh. Got it. This was definitely her home turf.
Nichelle spun on her stool and waved to the karaoke DJ, set up next to a small stage on the wall opposite the bar. His face lit up and he punched the air enthusiastically. When the couple on stage finished their duet, the DJ spoke into his microphone.
“It’s been awhile, Starfleet cadets, but Uhura is in the house!” Someone whooped, and heads began turning towards Nichelle. “Get your fine ass up on this stage, Lieutenant!”
She grinned and shouted over the crowd, “Pick me a song, Harcourt Fenton Mudd!” I stared with disbelief as she picked her way to the stage. Harry Mudd typed a few keystrokes on his laptop as she stepped onstage and took up her mic. I recognized the No Doubt song; Jess had listened to it compulsively—without headphones—when it was first released.
“Funny how I…find myself…in love with you,” Nichelle’s silken voice stopped most of the conversation in the room. Bones poured me another drink without asking.
“I ask myself, how much do you…commit yourself?”
Thank god I was already sitting. Thank god the place was poorly lit and all eyes were on the stage. The bar was suddenly too hot; I pulled off my suit jacket and draped it over the back of my stool. I yanked my tie loose and popped the collar button that threatened to cut off my airway.
“Funny how I…blind myself…I never knew,” she sang more softly, and I caught the wave of pain that rolled off her. I flinched, but she raised her gaze, finding my eyes in the dim light. Her voice grew stronger, and bam! she was playing the crowd like a pro.
It’s just a song, I repeated to myself. Swallowed some whisky. Just a song. She didn’t pick it. Goddamn it, it’s not a message. Maybe it was. This thing between us… Why was she blinding herself to the possibility? Why was she focusing all her effort on proving that it couldn’t work? I didn’t know how to convince her to give it a shot, but I had to try. She deserved so much. I had to give her this.
“It’s my life,” she belted out. “Don’t you forget.”
It was her life, but I wasn’t about to let her shut me out of it. Not without a fight.
The bartender nudged my elbow, and I swiveled away from the stage to face him. “You got a response to that?” He jutted his chin towards the stage.
He stepped away, set up a round of tequila shots on a tray for the waitress, and returned as the song was ending. “You got a response to that?” he asked again with a knowing look.
“I might,” I admitted.
Tinsley Sellers grew up in Chicago, spending her summers with her grandparents in a tiny town a lot like Beckley, Michigan. Life took her to Arizona, Washington, and Idaho before she finally found her home in Arkansas. She is married to an amazing, supportive (and handsome!) man, with whom she has rescued three dogs and two cats. When she’s not writing, she teaches physics and engineering at the local university. When she’s not writing or teaching, she’s probably trying new recipes. She enjoys fast cars, loud music, fine whisky, and big books. In no particular order.