When not cuddling inn signs in her beloved Scottish mountains alongside Mr Shey, Shehanne Moore writes dark and smexy historical romance, featuring bad boys who need a bad girl to sort them out. She firmly believes everyone deserves a little love, forgiveness and a second chance in life.

A woman not even the ghost of Sapphire can haunt. A man who knows exactly who she is. 

Only one man in England can identify her. Unfortunately he’s living next door. 

Ten years ago sixteen year old Sapphire, the greatest jewel thief England has ever known, ruined Lord Devorlane Hawley’s life by planting a stolen necklace on him.  Now she’s dead and buried, all Cassidy Armstrong wants is the chance to prove she was never that girl. 

But her new neighbor is hell-bent on revenge and his word can bring her down. So when he asks her to be his mistress, or leave the county with a price on her head, Sapphire, who hates being owned, must decide...  

What’s left for a woman with nowhere else to go, but to stay exactly where she is?

And hope, that when it comes to neighbors Devorlane Hawley won’t prove to be the one from hell. 


London Jewel Thieves

She hesitated. She'd thought everyone was looking at her. But if Stillmore was known for being looked at, perhaps they weren't looking at her at all. Perhaps she could wait one more moment and see? She didn't just need that ten thousand pounds to get Gabe bought into the clergy. She needed it to pay off Madame Renare-without Gabe finding out. If he found out about her dressmaking bills, he'd kill her.


Win the prize money. Clear her account with Madame Renare. Buy Gabe with his soft dark hair and soulful eyes into the clergy. Marry him. Benefit the poor. Live happily ever after. Stop spending money like water.


This, as her dear papa always said, wasn't over till it was done. Stillmore could bluster all he wanted about duels. When it came to it, she'd beaten him fair and square, and that was all he could have on her. Not who she was. What she was from.


Chapter 67