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

Her shoulders tightened. "That would be telling."


"Because that's what I'm doing my best to wonder, having come here. Why didn't you sell it? Avoid ending in a workhouse?"


"Oh, Your Grace, please don't lie. That's not what you're wondering at all." 


"And what the hell's this about the Marshalsea?"


If she wasn't finished before, she was now. Look on the bright side. He hadn't walked around the front of her, although the leaves scrunched as he took a step towards her.


"Are you telling me that you're no stranger to places like this? Like that? Well?"


"Oh ... my dressmaking bills, Your Grace, have ... multiplied on occasion." Her throat tightened so she could hardly speak, the taste in her mouth was worse than chewing mouldy socks."Odd occasions when it seemed I could not control myself, as you so rightly pointed out on several."


Chapter 128