I love Elizabeth Ellen Carter's ability to move between historical periods... her books to date have been set in the 18th and 19th century, but Elizabeth's passion is the Roman era. I am thrilled for her that the book of her heart... DARK HEART has found a publisher and will be released on 28 April (it is available for pre order NOW!)

I asked EEC to share with us a snippet of research (and I quail at the amount of research that went into writing this book!)... 

Today, living is a penthouse is seen as a pinnacle of luxury.
I can just hear Eva Gabor singing the line from Green Acres: “I just adore a penthouse view; darling I love you, but give me Park Avenue.”
But if you lived in Ancient Rome, the last place you wanted to be was on the top floor of an apartment building.
Quite remarkably, the population of Rome during the third century AD was one million – a feat reached by London only in 1810 and Manhattan in 1874.
Just like today, that caused a bit of a housing affordability crisis and again, like today, it was decided that the only way was up.
Apartment buildings (often named for their wealthy owner) were seen as the solution. These structures were up to seven storeys in height with the first two stories made of stone or concrete and the rest of the apartments made of wood.
And in a world without reticulated water, that meant carting water upstairs and, depending on the building, you might also be forbidden from cooking in your apartment. So the wealthy lived on the ground floor, the middle and working classes on the level above that and poor above that again.
These apartment buildings were called insulae – which is Latin for islands and indeed apartment living is just like being on an island in the middle of the city.
It has been suggested that one of the reasons why Nero fiddled while Rome burned was that he saw it as a great slum clearance and indeed after the fire he mandated insulae be no greater than seven storeys (70 feet), Emperor Trajan was even more strict, placing a six storey height limit on new construction.
But everything old is new again, with many cities returning to wood to construct high rise buildings  - but this time using cross-laminated timber (CLT) — layers of wood, glued together under high pressure with the grain of each perpendicular to the one before. The end product is strong and rigid, unlike raw timber, which will warp and weave over time.
Norway currently boasts the tallest timber building with a 14-storey timber high rise called Treet. Canada hopes to eclipse that later this year with an 18-story timber dorm building at the University of British Columbia, soon to be followed by the 21-storey Haut building in Amsterdam.
It can be hard to imagine ancient apartments, so I’ve found this beautiful four minute architectural video showing what Insulae would have looked like.

Rome, 235AD
A series of ritual murders of young boys recalls memories of Rome’s most wicked Emperor. Magistrate Marcus Cornelius Drusus has discovered the cult extends to the very heart of Roman society.
Despite his personal wealth and authority, Marcus is a slave to his past – conflicted by his status as an adopted son, bitterly betrayed by his wife and forced to give up his child.
Kyna knows all about betrayal. Sold into slavery by her husband to pay a gambling debt, she found herself in Rome, far from her home in Britannia. Bought by a doctor, she is taught his trade and is about to gain her freedom when her mentor is murdered by the cult.
When the same group make an attempt on her life, Kyna is forced to give up her freedom and accept Marcus’s protection. With no one to trust but each other, mutual attraction ignites into passion but how far will Marcus go for vengeance when he learns the cult’s next victim is his son?

Marcus watched the captain of the guard come to attention as he entered the room. With a wave of Marcus’ hand, Janarius was at ease.
“Report.”
“A quiet night mostly. A couple of brawls to break up. The Praetorian Guard is making a nuisance of itself. I take it you’ve heard? On orders of the new emperor, Alexander Severus’ supporters are being taken in for questioning.”
Marcus nodded and took a seat on one of the two curule chairs. He had heard. The situation was why he was content to owe no man. He asked no favors and gave none in return. It had always been a sore point between himself and his former wife, Agrippina.
She had accepted her father’s arrangement of marriage to Marcus despite him being younger than her, and beneath her station, because he was seen as a rising star – an adopted Roman from the province of Judea who had been trained by the very best, destined to go far.
However, no sooner had the ink dried on the marriage contract than Marcus learned what kind of wife had been negotiated for him.
He shook off the bitter memory and returned his attention to Janarius.
“Bodies. Either inside or outside the city,” Marcus demanded crisply.
“None,” the captain said, but the hint of relief in his voice suggested he had misunderstood.
Marcus shook his head. “No, I don’t mean more boys.”
“Then who?”
“A woman. Short, slim build, red hair, not yet thirty years of age.”
Janarius blinked and examined the pair of wax tablets he held but until now had not referred to.
“A woman who might fit that description broke her neck after being thrown down the stairs by her husband at the Insula Ferox.”
Marcus shook his head. Janarius looked further at his lists.
“A fornix was raped and beaten under the arches at the Theatre of Pompey, but it says she was a blonde.”
“Not her.” Marcus shook his head.
“Then that’s all. Of all the females reported dead last night those are the only two which come close to fitting your description.”
Marcus was surprised at the tension that leached from his shoulders at the news.
“May I ask who I’m supposed to be looking for?” asked Janarius.
“The Greek doctor’s slave assistant, Kyna.”
Marcus watched the man, waiting for his expression to change. His brow creased in thought, his eyebrows came up in recognition of the name, and then his eyes widened as the significance occurred to him. Janarius’ thought process written as plainly on his features as the words scribed on the tablets.
“That’s who she was?” he hissed. He stepped in and leaned on the magistrate’s desk. “I swear to you, Marcus, I didn’t know.”

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​December 1890
 
London, England
 
Some seriously clever sleight of hand is needed if aspiring lawyer Caro Addison is ever going to enjoy this Christmas.
 
To avoid an unwanted marriage proposal, she needs a distraction as neat as the tricks used by The Phantom, the audacious diamond thief who has left Scotland Yard clueless.
 
While her detective inspector uncle methodically hunts the villain, Caro decides to investigate a suspect of her own – the handsome Tobias Black, a magician extraordinaire, known as The Dark Duke.
 
He's the only one with the means, motive and opportunity but the art of illusion means not everything is as it seems, in both crime and affairs of the heart.
 
As Christmas Day draws near, Caro must decide whether it is worth risking reputations and friendships in order to follow her desires.

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​He turned the card over and with a thumbnail flicked a tab made of the same backing as the playing card. Even up close the addition was difficult to see. Tobias placed the card on his lap and pulled out a deck of cards. He flicked the edge of the deck of cards towards them. Each time the Queen of Hearts stood out.
 
“I want you to think I can read your mind, but in reality...”
 
Tobias split the deck and showed them the Queen of Hearts and then the other half of the deck. The card that had been just before the Queen of Hearts was fully a third shorter than the rest of the cards. He put the pack together and flicked through the deck once more.
 
“I make you see what you want to see. I suspect The Phantom does the same.”
 
“You mean his crime scenes are illusions?” Margaret asked. Tobias gave her a smile and Caro wished oddly that its brightness shone on her too.
 
“I think so. From what I read in the newspapers... no sign of entry or departure?” he asked. Caro confirmed it with a nod. “That tells me he’s creating an illusion of invulnerability. But it is an illusion. A trick. He wants to force the attention of the police away from something else – in the same way a magician will use a gesture or an action to distract you.
 
“Find out what that is then you will find his sleight of hand and that will be his vulnerability.”
 
Tobias stood.
 
“Now, if I’ve sated your curiosity, I’ll take my leave of you. My crew and I have our last show this evening.”
 
Caro rose and Margaret did also. Tobias took Margaret’s hand and bowed over it then released it. Then he took Caro’s and held it. Then his eyes held hers for a moment and he dropped a kiss on the back of her hand.
 
“I’m so glad it was you who paid me a visit... instead of a representative of Scotland Yard.”
 
“Not at all, Mr Black,” she replied, her voice a little huskier than usual, “you have been more than gracious with your time.
 
“Call me Tobias.”
 
He was flirting with her! Caro kept the smile to herself as he escorted them both to the entrance of the theatre.
 
“Just one more question, Mr Black,” Caro asked. “You wouldn’t happen to know how someone might dispose of a suite of diamonds would you?”

​About The Thief of Hearts
 
Australians suffer a little bit of cognitive dissonance when it comes to celebrating Christmas. First of all, being in the southern hemisphere, we celebrating in the middle of our summer but happily sing about ‘dashing through the snow’, Frosty the Snowman and that the ‘snow lay all about, deep and crisp and even’.
 
Another thing we missed in our local customs was being outside of the TV ratings periods. Conventional wisdom had it that in the depths of bitter winters, people would gather around the electronic hearth and watch television. And since Christmas fell right in the middle of the northern hemisphere’s TV ratings period, all the best TV shows had a Christmas episode.
 
They were fun and whimsical, often suspending current storylines for something a little bit light-hearted and fun.
 
So, in that Christmas spirit, I wrote The Thief of Hearts, a veritable Christmas punch of few Hercule Poirots, Girl’s Own Adventures stories, a dash of While You Were Sleeping and other Christmas-themed rom-coms.
 
Why Did You Set It in Victorian England?
 
Many of our Christmas customs started with the Victorians, including our beloved Christmas tree and the fun Christmas crackers.
 
Victorian England was a fascinating era.
 
They were very mindful of their past and had built up quite a romantic imagery of its chivalry – just look at the pre-Raphaelite works as examples of high Victorian romanticism and yet they were very technologically advanced and sophisticated.
 
Many of the things we take for granted today, inexpensive mass-produced consumer goods, electricity, telephony, stored music, motorised transport, photography and film, even the concept of television had their origins in the 19th century – no wonder Steampunk has become such a popular sub-genre of sci-fi!
 
There were high hopes for the upcoming 20th century as being the most accomplished century yet. The groundswell for true equality for men and women was beginning and within a relatively short space of time, women were fully enfranchised and were open to the same job opportunities.
 
Late Victorian England was time of man-made wonders and magic falls into that neatly.
 
Why write a mystery?
 
One of my favourite authors is Agatha Christie. I love the way she blended mystery and romance in many of her stories. If you look at Poirot and Miss Marple, there are often secondary characters who begin or advance a romance through the story and, with the solving of the mystery have their happily ever after.
 
I thought it would be fun to do something like that for The Thief of Hearts, so the mystery is very much front-and-centre but there is a definite romance between Caro Addison, an aspiring lawyer and Tobias Black, a magician and former solider whose paths are destined to cross.
 
There is more than one mystery in The Thief of Hearts. There is the obvious one in the mysterious diamond heists where the thief as apparently left no clue, but there is also one a little closer to home and that is what are Bertie’s real intentions towards Caro?
 
She is positive that he is planning to propose. While her mother would be delighted by the news, Caro herself is having second thoughts. She loves Bertie, but she’s not ‘in love’ with him – so to avoid an unpleasant scene with someone she likes, Caro invents reasons not to be alone with him.
 
The Thief of Hearts is full of misdirection.