During her frequent travels to London, Liz always packs her pearls, her dancing slippers, and her whalebone corset, confident in the belief that eventually she will receive an invitation to a ball or a rout. Alas, none has been forthcoming. While waiting, however, she has managed to learn where all the damp, dark alleys and low public houses can be found.
When Liz isn't living in the 19th century, she resides in Cary, North Carolina with her husband, a corporate attorney, and their four very fine felines.