The Madness of a Romance Writer

Yesterday afternoon I was doing a bit of research on the net, and came across a piece on a Roman amphitheatre which was constructed in South Wales around AD80. Hummm, I thought idly, that's a bit late for my time period, but interesting nevertheless.

I kept reading, as you do, and the next sentence casually hopped forward a couple of hundred years, describing how everything fell into ruin after the Legion abandoned Wales and moved further north.

This most ridiculous pain stabbed through my heart, and I actually thought, Ohmygod, Maximus and Carys would have died and been buried and forgotten by then.

Yep. I sat there, reading this article, getting all choked up that my hero and heroine were now dead.

I was so distressed, in fact, I went and told my two daughters and husband who proceeded to gape at me as if I'd lost my mind. Then they looked at each other and did the eyeball thing (tell me you know all about the Eyeball Thing?!)

But I'm not mad am I? Because our heroes and heroines are real people, aren't they?!