Locusta

The Poisoned Empire Duology #1

by Emily Dexter

Circe meets The Lost Apothecary in the first book of this historical fantasy duology featuring Ancient Rome’s most infamous poisoner who changed the course of history to save the woman she loved.

Born in the ancient region of Gaul, Locusta is the last of her kind—a Druid whose communion with the spirit world grants her the dangerous gift of identifying and wielding deadly substances. When Roman soldiers attack her home and slaughter her mother, Locusta is captured and enslaved, taken to the heart of the empire where political plots abound and death commands a high price. Guided by Arawn, the god of death, she must learn to survive within the brutal, glittering world of ancient Rome.

Her strange talents soon catch the attention of the Roman elite, and she becomes ensnared in a double life—poisoner by night for the cunning Antonia Augusta, and lady-in-waiting by day to Livia, the Emperor’s ambitious cousin. As Locusta plants the seeds of revenge against those who destroyed her home, her connection with Livia deepens into a passionate, forbidden romance that threatens them both. Surrounded by danger and deceit, Locusta’s poisons become their only protection against the increasingly unstable Emperor Caligula and the enemies lurking in every shadow.

Locusta reimagines the rise of one of history’s most complex women through a lens of myth, power, and feminine rage. Rich with ruthless twists, deadly magic, and a sapphic love story that burns from sweet to spicy, this is a story of survival, defiance, and the dangerous alchemy of love and death in a world ruled by men.

Genres: Fantasy, Historical Fiction, Audiobook, Queer, Lesbian, Fiction, Adult

368 pages, Paperback

First published September 15, 2026

Reviews

[C. Sinclair]

4.2/5

First and foremost: I received this as an audiobook and the narration is fantastic. A masterful reading of an already compelling story, with a performance that gave the characters and atmosphere exactly the kind of dimensionality an audiobook should. I have absolutely nothing to criticize here, only admiration and applause for the excellent narration.

I do, however, have some thoughts about the recurring criticism I've seen of Locusta herself: I've read several reviews dismiss her as weak, passive, foolish, or insufficiently frightening, and I found these interpretation genuinely frustrating. Locusta is young, inexperienced, frightened, displaced, enslaved, and suddenly confronted with an entirely new conception of herself and her place in the world. Of course she is petulant. Of course she lacks confidence. Of course she makes mistakes and repeatedly struggles against the role being forced upon her. Why are women so often required to be Herculean before we will permit them to be called strong? Persistence through internal and external conflict is itself a form of strength, and I found Locusta's humanity considerably more compelling than an idealized version of a perfectly cunning, immediately empowered heroine would have been. Her power is not interesting because she effortlessly possesses it; it is interesting because she has to learn what it means to possess any power at all. The sapphic romance benefits from the same emotional logic. Its immaturity and infatuation-heaviness felt not only endearing, but entirely believable given the circumstances and the historical limitations surrounding these characters. I don't need every woman in historical fiction to arrive wielding a sword, an encyclopedic education (not that one would have been available to her!), and flawless political instincts to consider her story heroic.

And then there's the actual story, which I thoroughly enjoyed. The worldbuilding is imaginative, the historical setting is richly realized, and the plot gives plenty of room for political intrigue, magic, and complicated relationships to develop alongside one another. Most importantly, I found myself repeatedly invested in Locusta's struggle to understand herself, her circumstances, and the power she is beginning to discover. There were some moments of pacing that weren't to my preference, and my inner history nerd had some dedicated debates with my inner literary nerd about the merits of accuracy vs making a story ones own. But they never reached a verdict, which speaks to the success of the reimagining overall.

I suspect some readers arrived at this book after reading Circe or Clytemnestra and consequently decided what kind of woman Locusta ought to be before giving her the opportunity to define herself in this retelling. Personally, I didn't need her to be an idealized interpretation of what society tells me a badass woman should be. I needed her to be human, and she was. Locusta is an engaging and emotionally thoughtful historical fantasy with an especially endearing sapphic romance, and I would happily read it again — preferably in this narrator's voice.

Thank you to NetGalley and Penguin Random House for the advanced "listener" copy of Locusta in exchange for an honest review, I sincerely enjoyed it and look forward to the next installment.

[Kaitie Reads]

Audiobook Read.

❤️ Roman Mythology
🏛 Forbidden Sapphic Romance
❤️ Poisoner FMC
🏛 Feminine Rage
❤️ Class + Power Dynamics

I enjoyed this very much! A slow-burn story that sometimes does feel relatively slow-paced; however, I never felt bored or like I was yearning for more. The sapphic spin and deep dive into a character that has mostly been left out of historical retellings is both invigorating and immersive.

•

Locusta is a druid from Gaul who can communicate with Arawn, the God of Death, and easily identify and create poisons. After she is captured by the Romans and brought to Ancient Rome, she rises quickly as a slave due to her abilities, eventually serving Antonia Augusta by delivering her poisons, while acting as a handmaiden for Livia—a cousin of Emperor Caligula—who ultimately captivates her heart. This first part of a planned duology explores Locusta's early life and rise to recognition in Ancient Rome, as well as the developing relationship between her and Livia under the watchful eye of Antonia.

•

Okay, so there is a lot to unpack here. I'll be honest, I know ABSOLUTELY NOTHING about Roman mythology, so in my mind, this entire book is Canon. I've said it once, and I will say it again: I care more about reimaginings showing the women who were brushed aside than I do about the original lore and phallus measurements. Sue me. ANYWAY, I loved Locusta's character; she is very relatable in her grief, her anger and her yearning. Her journey is beautiful and devastating and heartbreaking and completely captivated me. The sapphic yearning, the relationship between Locusta and Livia and the danger lurking around every corner for a woman living in this timeframe: I'M SAT.

While this story is slow-moving with a lot of heavy mythology, I found it really easy to sink into. And it's a good story. The feminine rage is poignant, the striving for autonomy, the illusion of power and notoriety: NOBODY IN ANCIENT ROME WAS SPARED. Although the men certainly got off much easier than their women counterparts. I was so invested in this book, and while it's slow and at times long-winded, it was also phenomenal. I particularly liked Emily Dexter's author's note explaining WHY she chose to write this story, and I fully support it.

As far as the audiobook audio experience goes, I did find it a little fuzzy at first but was able to adjust my volume settings for it to feel more crisp. Hannah Curtis (narrator) does a fantastic job with the voicing and dramatization.

I can't wait to dive back into this story! I'm so invested, and we support women's rights and WRONGS 'round here.

•

Thank you to Hay House LLC for the ALC of this book. All thoughts and feedback contained within this review are my own.

[Monica (switching platforms)]

3.75

First of all, a huge thank you to Hay House LLC for giving me the chance to experience this ALC! I honestly never expected my request to be accepted, so I’m especially grateful for the opportunity because Locusta definitely managed to capture my attention.

The audiobook narration was one of the highlights for me. Hannah Curtis was fantastic at bringing Locusta to life, and I thought her voice suited the character and her story incredibly well. Her narration is quite deliberate and atmospheric, which worked particularly well for Locusta's introspective moments. I did find myself speeding the audiobook up a little because the pacing of the narration was sometimes slower than my preferred listening speed, but that is obviously more of a personal preference. My only real criticism is that I found the other voices a little less distinctive compared to Locusta's, but overall, it didn't take away from the quality of the performance.

As for the story itself, I honestly didn't realise before picking this up that it was a reimagining of a real historical figure from Ancient Rome. That was such a pleasant surprise, especially because Locusta is a relatively minor figure in the historical record, and I really appreciate when authors take someone who has been pushed to the margins of history and give them a story of their own.

I also loved the way Emily Dexter incorporated magic into Locusta's story. Giving her a Druidic background to explain her ability to identify and work with poisons was such an interesting choice, and the spirit world and connection to Arawn added something unique to what could otherwise have been a more straightforward historical retelling.

The historical side was another aspect I really appreciated. Without drowning the story in endless explanations, the book still managed to give me a sense of the dynamics of the time, life inside the domus and, most importantly, the position and limitations of women within Roman society. I thought the combination of historical details and fantasy created an intriguing atmosphere, and I could tell that a lot of research had gone into the setting.

Despite the great work the author did in retelling the figure of Locusta, I feel that her character never completely got the chance to shine. She also felt quite passive throughout the story. I can understand why she would initially keep to herself and avoid drawing attention, especially while trying to adapt to a completely unfamiliar world. Staying in the background was probably also one of the few ways she could survive and move around unnoticed. But what I found disappointing was how little of the fierce anger and desire for revenge we see at the beginning remained as the story progressed.

I also felt that the story never really gave enough space to some of the things that could have made Locusta such a fascinating character. Her knowledge of plants and poisons, as well as her Druidic nature, felt like they were there, but I rarely saw them fully explored or used to their potential. More than anything, I wanted to see the clever, calculating side of Locusta. She had every reason to learn how the Roman world worked, understand the people around her and figure out how she could use that knowledge against them from within. Instead, I often felt like she was simply adapting to whatever situation she found herself in, rather than actively learning how to navigate this world to eventually fight back against it.

What initially felt like a fire burning inside her gradually became much quieter, and I kept waiting for that anger to turn into something more concrete, something that would push her to take control of her own story. Instead, I felt like Locusta slowly let opportunities to build meaningful connections slip through her fingers. In a world where connections could be incredibly important for a woman in that era, she was surrounded by people who understood their value and knew how to use them to achieve their own goals. In fact, two different women showed her just how much access and influence those connections could give them, yet Locusta never seemed to fully recognise that potential or use it to her own advantage.

I think part of this comes from how defeated she seems to feel because of her status as a slave. She spends so much time simply trying to survive and find her place in this new world that she rarely seems to consider what she could actually build for herself within it. And once she becomes focused on one particular person, it also feels as though she gradually loses sight of the goal she originally came to pursue. The revenge that once seemed like such a powerful driving force in her life slowly fades into the background, replaced by whatever is happening in front of her at the moment. As a result, she often seemed to simply react to the circumstances around her rather than actively deciding what she wanted to do next. And for a character who starts the story with so much anger, determination and potential, I found that particularly disappointing.

This became particularly obvious once Livia entered her life. The contrast between the two of them is almost impossible to miss. Livia knows how to move through social situations, make herself heard and influence the people around her, even if only for brief moments, while Locusta remains much more withdrawn and mostly watches things unfold from the sidelines. I would have loved to see Locusta gradually find her own way of stepping into that world and using everything she had learned to make an impact herself, rather than simply remaining on the sidelines.

I also struggled with the development of her relationship with Livia. Their connection didn't feel particularly natural to me, and at times it seemed to happen almost out of nowhere. The romance developed quite quickly, and I never completely understood what drew them to each other beyond the circumstances they found themselves in. Considering how important their relationship becomes to Locusta's story, I really wanted more time to see that connection develop and understand why they became so important to each other.

The pacing was generally okay, even though there were moments where the story felt atmospheric and beautifully written, while at other times it became quite meandering and fragmented. Some sections felt slow, while others moved through important events so quickly that I wanted more time to actually experience them. There was also quite a bit of telling rather than showing, which sometimes made it harder for me to become fully immersed in Locusta's journey.

That said, I don't think this was a bad read. There were plenty of things I found genuinely interesting, and I just wish the story had made better use of everything it had to work with. Overall, this was a fascinating concept that unfortunately didn't completely work for me in execution. I wanted a more cunning and active Locusta, a slower and more convincing romance, and a story that made better use of her intelligence, knowledge and Druidic abilities instead of relying so heavily on the magical side of her character. Still, I enjoyed the historical elements and the way the author reimagined a relatively obscure figure from Ancient Rome, and despite my frustrations with the story, the ending left me curious about what comes next. I will probably pick up the second book in the duology to see where Locusta's story goes from here.

[E.J.]

Thank you to NetGalley, HayHouse Audiobooks and the author for an ALC in exchange for an honest review

Locusta had such a fascinating premise that ultimately fell short for me. I think the comparison of this book to The Lost Apothecary is fair, but this book is not nearly up there with the writing, plot and story that is Circe (for which the book is also compared).

The writing in this book is off. The author continued to reuse certain words (the word “however” was used so many times!). Personally, I think it’s the writing cadence. The middle of this book (a good 40%) is an absolute slog and I was so bored. The characters are boring, the plot was more telling than showing, and the romance was an instalove mess of yucky power dynamics and obsession.

Locusta as well comes off as very bland. She is shallow, quick to anger, inexperienced and easily swayed by her emotions. She is also very flippant, changing her whims and motives at an instant, making it hard to keep up with her thoughts and reasoning. She rejects her druidness and the death god inside her head, but calls out for his help and her power at any bit of resistance or trouble.

I was promised feminine rage and that ended within the first 20%. After that, it devolves into a weird obsession with her slaver and a fight to control her every movement and action. Even Livia tells her to back off and stop trying to control her multiple times in the book. Their love story was not told in a way that was believable. They have nothing in common besides the fact that she is literally forced to be around this girl 24/7.

For a book about poisoning, very little of it actually happens on the page! And when it does, it is not always successful. In summary, I was disappointed. I honestly considered DNF’ing at about 25% but decided to stick it out. I’m not sure if that was the right call or not. But I do not see myself picking up the second book.

I did not like the narrator for this book. He voice was monotone throughout but then she would randomly infuse a lot of emotion into her sentences. But I found myself drifting as I listened, which is never good.

It is really disappointing how they turned this historical bad ass woman into a love sick, rash, pathetic girl that loses her purpose and direction for a pretty face.

[Andrea Keeler]

Locusta is a fascinating historical figure! I didn't know much about her before reading this book then diving into her past on my own, I just knew about her suspected murder via poisoning of Claudius. Though there isn't much recorded history of Locusta, this book takes a lot of liberties in telling her story.

I was disappointed that her poison knowledge was attributed to her druidic goddess rather than to her as a badass botanist and chemist. This narrative decision takes a lot away from Locusta as a learner and scientist. Similarly, the mc was very impulsive and emotionally driven for someone who needs to be calculating and careful to do her job as a poisoner. I didn't like her amorous obsession was her slave master, especially since the master was so cruel to her in the beginning. I thought I missed a few chapters because the slave master went from hating to lusting for Locusta in no time.

The narration of the audiobook was great! Thank you to NetGalley for this early release audiobook :)

[Samara Reyneke]

This was a refreshing read that introduced themes a reader like myself haven't encountered often. One of them being a druid with unique abilities that she later harnesses to survive the new world she finds herself in.

The magic system itself had me so invested in Locusta's story. It is imaginative and interesting and I loved learning with her how it works and ultimately, how she can weaponize it.

I dont want to go into too much detail as I firmly believe the best reading experience is when you go in blind.

I will mention that this book is ideal for readers who enjoy taking their time with the story and the world building. For those of us who appreciate seeing the blooms of friendship before it becomes something more, and who want to connect with a character who's been dealt a difficult hand but still manages to make the most of it.

I also really appreciated the author's note and felt that it framed and completed this first segment in the series with meaningful context.

Thank you Netgalley and the author for the audio ARC of this book.

[Maria 𐔌՞. .՞𐦯]

Thank you NetGalley, Hay House Audiobooks, and the author for the eArc and ALC!

I was extremely fortunate to be able to receive a digital copy and the audiobook copy together,so this was an amazing experience overall.

I love retellings, and I admittedly was less familiar with Locusta and her story, so I can't argue about historical inaccuracies from the little I'm aware.

With that said, this was a beautiful, emotional story. I loved Locusta's past, her and Livia's love blooming so subtly, I loved the inner workings of Rome and the magic system.
Especially in the audiobook version, the narrator's rent was DUEEEEE, what a spectacular performance.

I did have some small gripes with it, for example, while I understand that poison is a very much "behind the scenes" weapon, a lot of action felt like it happened too off screen for a true impact.

Can't wait for the sequel though!

[Dani]

✨Thank you to NetGalley for an advanced copy of this audiobook ✨

Having not much knowledge of the politics of Ancient Rome, I went into this tale of a female poisoner completely blind and unbiased. As such, I can’t comment on whether anything was historically accurate and if that will annoy other readers. Note; there is an authors note at the end of the audiobook about this.

I loved the style of writing and the performance of the audiobook. The voice artist was a great choice for Locusta! (I would have died if they went with an American narrator for a Gaul in Ancient Rome)

Sometimes I will read other reviews before I decide on what I’m going to write— just to see if there’s any part of the book that I’ve forgotten. I did see one reviewer write as if it were a school essay, arguing over the points of where they found the writing clunky. I can report that none of the writing was like that for me. Sentences flowed perfectly fine. Is that reviewer pretentious or just not used to this type of prose? Hard to tell. I loved it.

The elements of magic in this world were subtle and I enjoyed that it was more based on politics and history than anything else. When I choose fantasy books it’s usually to escape the modern world. ‘Locusta’ did a brilliant job of that without technically being a fantasy book.

This was an easy listen and I found that I was closer to the end than I realised (Me: wait, how can I only have 23 minutes left?).

I will definitely be continuing with book 2 when it is released. I will also be recommending this book to friends who have similar tastes to me.

[Elle]

An exceptionally strong start that continued eternally downhill after the first few chapters. The prologue was an amazing scene-setter, Locusta announcing to readers she was going to kill Rome's Emperor 'today', then the book flashing back through her life to that point. The hook, the worldbuilding, the motivations and goal (and hesitation) were all so well established in such a short period of time! In the early chapters, the mix of Telling and Showing was perfection, exactly how they're meant to be used. And the way the author ended those early chapters was so impactful each time. Sadly, the plot and character arcs were nowhere near the level of that early prose and voice. Even the prose and voice deteriorated over time, with many modern slang expressions and phrases creeping in that threw me completely out of what should have been serious, horrific scenes.

The political and conspiracy sections of the novel are its best parts, but the gaps between them are too large. It doesn't help that Locusta is essentially uninvolved in any of it, losing all agency after one single chosen murder early in the novel. Locusta's rage for Rome disappears after meeting Livia, her conventionally-Europeanly-attractive (not actually Roman-looking at all) blonde mistress/owner. Then the novel becomes entirely about her lust for an owner who is actually quite mean to her, and then hiding away from the actual problems of her circumstances and having sexcapades instead. If this is meant to be feminist, it missed the mark. I don't need a woman to be a badass murdering warrior/avenger in order to be feminist -- but she needs agency, she needs competence, she needs to be able to adapt (even if it takes trial and error), and she needs to be examining the power structures she's stuck in including in how she participates. Locusta does none of this -- what was the actual skill and learning of a historical woman instead becomes the magic powers granted by a god, and the orders of Locusta's much-smarter, more-educated Roman 'betters'. Locusta doesn't even act or react like a slave, or have many thoughts on slavery at all. When she herself is freed and given slaves, there is one instance of revelling in being able to order others around, and exactly one throw-away line about her being "unsure how she felt about owning someone else"... and it's never thought on ever again, and her slaves not even mentioned again, because love drama and sexcapades!

There's entirely too much focus on the romance, to the detriment of plot and of Locusta's character development. And unfortunately despite the huge focus, the romance is also lacking in development. Locusta's suffers insta-lust, and once Livia decides that Locusta isn't here to kill her and decides to stop sexually taunting her slave, apparently there's also equal insta-lust. Or maybe just forced proximity, though the novel pushes a true love, deep-understanding reasoning rather than allowing any sort of messy, complicated influences. The romance never even addresses the major power imbalance, or the months Livia spent being very cruel to a slave who had no choice but to stick to Livia's side under threat of death. It brushes over their actual past together, because that might negatively impact their True Love. Additionally, their stated reasons for loving each other ring very false: Livia has been sheltered her entire life, due to her elderly cousin's (justified) fears. Locusta says all this nice stuff about how Livia is too good for the world, she lives life as it's meant to be lived, and I'm just ??? When? Where? Livia lives in constant fear and oppression, under a false, sickly mask to get by. Where is this capital-L "Life" Lo admires? Later the author pivots to say that it's Livia's kindness that Locusta fell in love with, but early novel Livia was a right b*tch taking out her frustrations on innocent slaves. What kindness? I think it could have been an interesting relationship, if the author had been willing to move past YA tropes into something more adult and realistic.

There was also a very unfortunate sex scene that should have just been fade-to-black instead of reading like a bad, and very modern, porno. We had "so damn sexy" co-existing with "gods" (to keep it Roman), incorrect info about female lubrication, and the eternal misogynistic assumption that all women need thrusting penetration to climax.

I was hoping the novel might pick back up by the end, when it seemed political machinations were back in play, but once again it was everyone except for Locusta being smart and manipulative. She was the world's most obvious schemer and poisoner, once again, and constantly forgetting about other people the moment they were out of sight. By the end, I was kind of wishing that this was Agrippina's novel instead, about her initial subjugation and revenge-driven rise to power. Certainly she was doing more than Locusta ever was.

Thank you to Netgalley and the publisher for an advance reader copy in exchange for an honest review.


Rating: 2.5 stars, rounding down as always -- A very strong start that almost immediately falters and keeps going downhill from there. I need authors writing "feminist retellings" to actually start considering what is the point of their story, and where is the feminism that is meant to improve it from the source material? Because I don't see any here.

[Kelli]

Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for an advanced copy in exchange for an honest review.

I really liked what the author was trying to do with this story, and her motivations for writing it that she brings up in the author's note. This story is a direct response to the lack of stories of Roman women as their own characters, even those so notorious as Locusta, a woman who poisoned emperors. This story serves to give a voice to Locusta and women like her from this time period, centering her in her own story and giving her a personality, a voice, her own choices to make. I also really liked the addition of Livia and a sapphic romance as Locusta's motivations, even if I don't enjoy reading about romance itself.

However the story as a whole was disappointing for me, mainly because the timing jumped around so much that I struggled to connect with any characters or follow the storyline. Months would pass out of nowhere, or sometimes it felt like months had passed but it was only a couple days. I think also due to this I was in general confused about where the story was going, and at times I was wondering why Locusta or other characters did what they did, or why something was the only possible choice the characters had. I felt like many things were missed or not fully explained, and this prevented the story from flowing well for me. I wanted to know more about the Gaulish traditions, more about the poisons Locusta uses, more about Arawn (our nonbinary god of Death), more about the politics of Rome, all of it.

Another small thing that I am only realizing now that I strongly dislike is when the whole novel is told from the perspective of the main character, just much older in their life (Assassin's Apprentice is like this, and I really disliked it too). This makes it so hard to connect with the younger character for me, and puts distance between the reader and the events in the story, making everything feel slower and less urgent. I think this is why I found this book very slow to read, despite the action picking up more so towards the end with the drama involving Agrippina. It just eliminates any suspense for me, and I would prefer to be right there with the young protagonist, experiencing things with them for the first time.

I don't think I will continue with this duology but overall the concept was interesting, even if the way it was told didn't hit for me. If you are really into Roman history or like romance more than I do then maybe this would be more for you!

[Aitana Vega]

I received and e-ARC of the book from Netgalley.

The premise was very intriguing, but the book itself didn't live up to my expectations. I was fascinated by the first third of the story, by Locusta herself and everything about her life, her gods, her mother, and her desire for vengeance; I couldn't wait to see Locusta learn to master her powers and plot her revenge. Then all of this disappeared under her obsession for Livia. I must say I am already not a fan of the slave/slave-master trope, but maybe if the romance had developed in some sort of way, I might have been able to overlook this. The reality is that, for the reader, it feels very insta-lovey and almost from the second Livia arrives she becomes the only thing that matters to Locusta and she makes all of her decisions (most of which aren't very smart and even hard to understand) based on this.

Overall, I was quite disappointed and unfortunately I will almost certainly not pick up the second book.

[Stephanie (Bookfever)]

Locusta by Emily Dexter is a historical fantasy set in ancient Rome during the reign of emperor Caligula and Claudius.

I was really looking forward to this book because I'm very intrigued by the historical figure of Locusta. Historian don't actually know a lot about her, only what the ancient Roman sources say about her and as we all know how they thought about people from outside their Empire. I liked how the story started and enjoyed reading about Locusta becoming a Druid even though the circumstances of it were quite sad. I also liked her connection she forms with the god of death. However this is where my interest kinda of stopped.

I feel like as soon as Locusta was brought to Rome and she met Livia (cousin of the emperor) that she was instantly obsessed with her and that she sort of disappeared inside the obsession. I also didn't like how things evolved with Agrippina and how the author made her a villain.

This said, the audiobook was quite good. I enjoyed the narrator and it was quite suspsensful at times. However, I'm not sure I'll be picking up the second book of the duology.

[Roimata Hooper]

Thank you NetGalley, Hay House Audiobooks, and the author for the ALC!

This novel had such a strong start. I loved the writing style and was instantly invested in Locusta. Her connection to the god of death, her curiosity of poisons when she was younger and now being able to detect poison and loved following her through the brutal and dark world of ancient Rome. The characters, political drama and constant suspense kept me hooked at start, and the audiobook narrator absolutely nailed the atmosphere.

The pacing lost me a bit in the second half. I felt like the romance side kind of took over and there were a lot of abrupt time jumps that pulled me out of the story. By the end it sadly started to feel a little repetitive and the ending felt abit rushed. All in all, it did catch my attention enough to want to continue into book 2!

[SarahinWanderland]

Locusta by Emily Dexter is historical fantasy at its best. It takes a woman pushed to the edges of recorded history and gives her rage, desire, grief, power, and a voice. The historical Locusta survives in Roman accounts as a notorious maker of poisons connected to the deaths of Claudius and Britannicus. Dexter looks beyond the label of poisoner and asks what kind of life might have created a woman capable of changing an empire from its shadows.
The story begins in Roman-occupied Gaul, where Locusta learns plant medicine and Druidic traditions from her mother. After Roman soldiers destroy her home and murder her mother, she is captured, enslaved, and taken into the center of the empire responsible for her losses. Her ability to identify and create deadly substances eventually draws the attention of Rome’s ruling women. By night, she becomes a secret poisoner. By day, she serves Livia, the emperor’s ambitious cousin and the woman she begins to love.
Dexter’s prose pulled me in immediately. Her writing is lyrical without becoming difficult to follow, and every description carries emotional purpose. Gaul feels rooted, spiritual, and alive. Rome feels glittering, excessive, and rotten underneath its beauty. Plants, blood, smoke, metal, and stone create a sensory world where beauty and violence constantly occupy the same space. The language becomes especially striking whenever Locusta works with plants. Dexter writes poison with the intimacy other authors reserve for prayer or romance.
I stayed engaged because the political intrigue never feels separate from Locusta’s personal survival. She enters Rome without status, protection, or knowledge of its social rules. We learn the empire alongside her, which makes every alliance feel uncertain and every act of kindness suspicious. The powerful people surrounding her rarely say exactly what they want. Their dinners, marriages, gifts, and private conversations function as weapons. Locusta must learn how to read danger before danger recognizes her value. The plotting grows more compelling as her private desire for revenge collides with her need to protect Livia.
The novel’s strongest layer comes through the relationship between healing and poisoning. Both begin with the same knowledge. A plant might relieve pain, produce visions, stop a heart, or save a life depending on who prepares it, how much they use, and why. Locusta’s gift is never morally pure because survival under empire is never morally simple. Rome calls her knowledge primitive while quietly exploiting it. The same people who consider her culturally inferior become dependent upon her abilities. Her knowledge becomes the source of her captivity and the only leverage she possesses.
Poison also works as a reflection of power. Roman men maintain control through armies, slavery, law, wealth, and public execution. Women denied those forms of authority must work through private rooms, food, medicine, sex, secrets, and relationships. Poison becomes a weapon suited to people forced into invisibility. It requires patience, intelligence, proximity, and an understanding of how bodies respond under pressure. Dexter never reduces this dynamic to the idea of women secretly controlling everything. She shows how indirect power still develops inside systems designed to deny women freedom.
Locusta’s relationship with Livia gives the story another emotional layer. Their love offers tenderness inside a society where nearly every relationship carries an exchange of power. Their connection is passionate, but it is never protected from their unequal positions, political obligations, or the danger surrounding them. Love does not remove Locusta from the empire’s machinery. It gives the empire another way to threaten her. Her devotion becomes both refuge and vulnerability.
I also loved how Dexter approaches feminine rage. Locusta is angry because terrible things happened to her, but her anger is not presented as a temporary stage she must overcome before becoming worthy of love. Her rage remembers what Rome wants forgotten. It preserves her connection to her mother, her people, and the self she possessed before enslavement. Revenge gives her direction, even as it threatens to transform her into someone shaped entirely by the violence committed against her.
Arawn, the god of death guiding Locusta, adds a mythic dimension without taking control away from her. Death follows her from Gaul into Rome, but it is never a single force. Death is destroyer, teacher, companion, punishment, and release. Locusta’s bond with Arawn raises questions about whether she commands death or death is slowly claiming her. The uncertainty makes her growing power feel dangerous rather than convenient.
Locusta also challenges the stories empires tell about themselves. Rome calls itself civilized while surviving through conquest, enslavement, sexual violence, and the destruction of other cultures. Locusta enters the story as someone Rome considers barbaric, yet the empire’s ruling class commits cruelty with ceremony and legal approval. Dexter exposes civilization as a story people in power tell to make domination sound righteous.
This book is filled with women making morally complicated choices inside a system offering them few clean ones. Some protect themselves through obedience. Some manipulate the rules. Some sacrifice other women for access. Some turn the tools of oppression against the people who created them. Dexter lets these women be intelligent, cruel, loving, frightened, ambitious, and contradictory. None of them exist only to make Locusta look better.
Locusta is an absorbing story about colonial violence, forbidden knowledge, feminine rage, queer love, and the cost of becoming useful to powerful people. The prose is beautiful, the political schemes kept me invested, and the symbolism gives nearly every act of healing, poisoning, and desire a second meaning. Five stars for a historical fantasy willing to ask whether a woman labeled monstrous was born dangerous or learned danger from the empire determined to own her.

[Karo R]

Locusta - a historical fantasy about a real life poisoner in Ancient Rome and "one of history’s most complex women through a lens of myth, power, and feminine rage"... Yeah no.

This is an insta love Fantasy Romance in a somewhat historical setting. The actual history, however, is taking the back seat and so does the fantasy or myth part of it all. Most of the book focuses in fact not on the apparently complex woman and poisoner (for me she actually seemed quite one-dimensional and not too distinguishable from any other woman in this story) but on how much these two women love each other pretty much immediately after they first saw each other - including an extensive spice scene and lots of cheesy, borderline cringey, dialog.

And please, can we stop calling everything feminist and feminine rage?! Just because a woman is angry doesn't mean it's feminine rage. The context matters. Locusta isn't growing sick and tired of the system and people who oppress her because of her gender and therefore starts to fight back. It's rather a case of slightly overprotective lover getting obsessed with "eliminating" every possible threat for "the woman she wants" (which has to be stated in at least three consecutive sentences so the reader definitely understood).

I can see how there is an audience for this story, but I expected something quite different from the blurb, so for me it was mostly disappointing.

I'll admit, I'm not the biggest reader of (fantasy) romance, so a lot of the things that bothered me probably won't bother other readers. And I have to admit that the audiobook production was well done. So if you like to read Romantasy/Fantasy Romance this could be for you. If you prefer Historical and Epic Fantasies, like me, however, maybe skip it. I probably should have done the same.

Thanks NetGalley for the free ALC in exchange for an honest review.

[mo • lesmotsdemo]

In some ways, it was a rather underwhelming read.
Firstly, it was extremely slow-paced and it definitely had an impact on my reading experience. At times it felt like nothing was happening, like the plot was not moving forward. It also made the plot feel less powerful and it lowered its stakes. It should have felt like a story with higher stakes but everything felt not gripping enough. Secondly, Locusta was not as powerful as I thought she was going to be. She almost felt passive sometimes, unaware that she held power. She got told many times that she had power but I’ve never truly shown this power. I wanted it to be more present, I wanted Locusta to be a real theat within the story. But she wasn’t frightening. Thirdly, the romance in this story lacked depth and development as well. It progressed too quickly for me, especially when it came to the sex. I didn’t really feel the chemistry between Livia and Locusta. And I really wish I did, because I was looking forward to discovering this sapphic romance. But something was lacking. It wasn’t emotional enough. It wasn’t romantic enough.
Overall, the plot had some good moments but its slow pace truly damaged it. However, it had dark moments but it wasn’t as dark as I thought it was going to be. I obviously still recommend to check the content warnings.

Thank you to Netgalley for an e-ARC in exchange for a honest review.

[Yanny]

Politics, poison, and passion.

I loved this book. It’s slow paced and wandering, but that’s perfect given that it’s a story about how women in Rome wielded political power from the shadows. I enjoyed watching pieces unfold, show-casing the characters’s cunningness and creativity, the fear and rage and secrecy and power all simmering beneath the surface. The lengths they’ll go to protect those they love give us well-developed, compelling, morally ambiguous characters and I can’t wait to see what happens next.

I’m not super familiar with Locusta’s story, so I can’t speak to historical accuracy, but based on the author’s note at the end, it seems well-researched. This book definitely has me interested in learning more about the Julio-Claudian dynasty of Rome as well as more about the infamous poisoner herself.

This is an ALC review.

[Demetri Papadimitropoulos]

Rome Has Emperors, Armies, Gods, and One Very Useful Poisoner
Emily Dexter’s “Locusta” understands that the trouble with becoming indispensable is discovering how many powerful people would like to keep you that way.
By Demetris Papadimitropoulos | September 4th, 2026

Death is legible to Locusta long before Rome is. Emily Dexter gives her heroine an uncanny ability to recognize poison and witness the departing souls of the dead, but “Locusta” is more interested in another education, one for which no god supplies a syllabus. Agrippina watches the freedwoman who never strays far from Livia, notices the glances that linger, reads several suspicious deaths as a pattern, and understands that affection can be converted into leverage. Locusta can read what is in a cup. Agrippina can read the hand reaching for it.

Even the historical Locusta reaches us almost as a job description: poisoner. The surviving record grants her consequence without much interior life, and Dexter takes that thinness as permission to imagine inward. Her historical note explains that she approached Locusta through the women around the Julio-Claudian court, whose lives likewise survive unevenly and often through accounts centered on men. That premise has plenty of company in classical retellings. Dexter becomes more particular when recovery shades into strategy: being overlooked can humiliate, but it can also let you cross a room unsearched.

Much of Locusta’s childhood in conquered Gaul teaches the first half of that lesson. Her mother, a Druid, passes down botanical, ritual and healing knowledge already being pressed toward extinction by Roman rule. During Locusta’s initiation, Arawn claims her – a death deity with impeccable timing and a breezy attitude toward privacy – and leaves her able to sense toxins and dying souls. Soon afterward her mother is murdered, Locusta is captured, enslaved and carried toward Rome. Survival requires more than obedience. Others must believe they understand what she is for.

Even in Rome, usefulness belongs first to whoever owns her. Burrus trades on her supposed ability to heal. Decima discovers that the stranger brought to save her is better equipped to identify what is killing her. Antonia Minor, receiving Locusta as property, sees the larger opportunity and sets her to two jobs: attending Livia by day, making poisons by night. Livia initially regards her new companion as a notably poor investment in the conventional arts of service. Locusta can identify lethal compounds but cannot reliably braid hair. She is hopeless at the feminine skill her station openly requires and extremely talented at the one nobody is supposed to admit exists.

The romance between them begins in that mismatch and slowly creates the first place in Rome where Locusta can imagine being wanted rather than employed. Livia is funny, politically alert and considerably less fragile than the household performance built around her suggests. She also refuses the easiest role available to a heroine’s beloved: endangered justification for whatever the heroine wishes to do. When Locusta murders a senator who attacked her, Livia is furious not because she mourns him but because Locusta has made her own life disposable in the name of protection. Later she says what the plot keeps proving. Kill one threat and another will take the empty place. Love, in her formulation, does not confer jurisdiction.

Rome itself is a finishing school, and Antonia is the instructor whose lessons travel furthest. She understands that poison can do more than stop a heart. A distinctive toxin can implicate an enemy, frighten an ally, buy loyalty or make the person supplying it suddenly difficult to dispense with. Locusta arrives thinking authority belongs to whoever commands soldiers. Antonia directs her attention to the cup: who can reach it, who knows what went into it, who will be blamed when somebody falls. Poison becomes a grammar of indirect authority, suited to people barred from the podium but admitted to bedrooms, gardens, kitchens and banquets.

Imperial life rewards the same skill in different costumes. Livia performs illness. Antonia lets others mistake the formal limits placed on an imperial matriarch for the limits of her influence. Agrippina can put Nero before a cheering crowd and make a succession argument without formally declaring one. Claudius survives partly because the safest interpretation of him has long been that he is harmless. Dexter is less interested in invisibility than in controlled misreading. The people who fare best know which version of themselves everyone else is prepared to believe.

Prose is where Dexter most clearly announces the historical novel she is not writing. She has no interest in embalming antiquity beneath ceremonial syntax. Locusta swears, lusts, sulks, notices clothes, resents protocol and argues with the deity lodged in her consciousness. The conversational looseness is especially useful around the Julio-Claudian family, whose genealogy could otherwise require a length of string and an accommodating wall. Some readers will want more linguistic strangeness from ancient Rome. Dexter has chosen intimacy instead, and most of the time the choice keeps the court legible without making it decorous.

At sentence level, Dexter’s appetite for sensation is harder to discipline. Locusta experiences emotion through the body: terror freezes, anger burns, grief crushes, danger acquires teeth. For someone trained in plants, illness and the routes by which one substance alters another body, that instinct makes sense. The trouble is that Dexter rarely leaves an emotion underdressed. A feeling that has already arrived carrying fire may collect a dagger, a thunderstorm and a smashed vase before the paragraph lets it sit down. Locusta is often most persuasive when she is blunt; the prose occasionally keeps decorating after she has already told us enough.

Plotting is shrewder about restraint. The opening places Locusta at the Circus Maximus preparing to assassinate an emperor, then returns to Gaul and spends fifty-five chapters bringing her back within poisoning distance of imperial power. The promise looks familiar: here is the notorious woman; now watch how she became herself. Yet when the story catches its own beginning, killing the emperor is no longer the most interesting possibility on offer. Locusta has learned how to kill. She has not learned whether killing can make her free.

A legal progression almost persuades her that it can. She survives captivity, moves through Roman households, becomes indispensable to Antonia, receives emancipation and inherits a villa, money and a household of her own. Each improvement is real. So is the catch inside it. The chain becomes less visible as Locusta becomes more privileged: first ownership, then usefulness, eventually the threat against someone she loves. A deed and a key have changed her status; they have not made her ungovernable.

Dexter exposes that distinction when Locusta finally tries to poison Agrippina. The skill around which she has reorganized her sense of possibility does nothing. Agrippina is protected by Fortuna, and Arawn cannot even appear bodily inside another goddess’s temple without permission. Locusta, who has spent the novel becoming exceptional, discovers that exceptional is not the same as unrivaled. Roman hierarchy apparently extends all the way to heaven. The scene is funny for half a breath and frightening for much longer: her best answer to force has encountered a jurisdiction in which it has no standing.

If Fortuna supplies the spectacular part of Locusta’s defeat, Agrippina supplies the more unsettling one. She has information. She knows Livia’s concealed ancestry, has watched the lovers closely enough to understand what they mean to each other, and has followed Locusta’s violence well enough to predict what freedom will make her try. Her bargain requires no supernatural subtlety: clear a path for Nero and Livia’s secret remains a secret; refuse, and the woman Locusta loves becomes politically useful to someone else. Agrippina does not beat the poisoner by being deadlier. She assigns a price to the one thing Locusta will not gamble.

Making love vulnerable to that calculation is considerably more interesting than making love itself the mistake. Livia has given Locusta pleasure, companionship and the first plausible image of a future not organized around revenge or service. Agrippina’s victory depends on those things being real. The relationship that lets Locusta imagine herself as more than useful also gives another woman the means to use her. Dexter leaves the contradiction alone, which is exactly where it should stay.

Its limits become clearest when the moral difficulty threatens to grow darker than the plot wishes. Pontius is abusive. Magnus attacks Livia. Gaius becomes grotesquely cruel. Locusta’s willingness to kill therefore carries the thrill of transgression while many of her targets arrive helpfully pre-condemned. Livia keeps objecting to the logic – there will always be another man, another relative, another threat – but the murders themselves are often more satisfying than the unease surrounding them. The book sees the trap. It does not always make Locusta put her foot fully inside it.

The harder contradiction waits in Locusta’s own villa. A woman who has been purchased, transported and inherited now inherits enslaved people. She notices the ugliness. Dexter’s historical note acknowledges it too. But the fact should trouble the novel’s vocabulary of freedom more aggressively than it does. Locusta has not merely escaped one position in Roman society; she has acquired another, complete with human property. Agrippina and the assassination plot soon reclaim the floor, leaving behind the nastier possibility that Rome has taught Locusta not only how to survive its arrangements but how to inhabit them.

Read beside Elodie Harper’s “The Wolf Den,” “Locusta” reveals how interested Dexter is in the intelligence produced by exclusion. Both books understand that women barred from ordinary authority become experts in rooms, appetites, money and the assumptions of powerful men. Madeline Miller’s “Circe” remains the obvious relative in its restoration of inward life to a dangerous woman inherited from classical tradition, but Dexter is far less solitary. Her heroine cannot retreat to an island and contemplate power at leisure. Rome keeps inviting itself to dinner, generally with lineage, gossip and at least one concealed blade.

Once the novel reaches its historical note, imaginative freedom becomes harder to separate from historical assertion. Dexter openly acknowledges rearranging chronology and explains that Livia, whose existence is not historically attested, entered the project through a spiritual process of channeling Locusta. Historical fiction has always worked inside gaps; gaps are not evidence waiting politely to become certainty. Dexter is strongest when absence becomes imaginative room. Her interest in people excluded from the record is persuasive enough not to require the record to confirm what it cannot.

Poisoning Locusta’s reputation back into innocence would have been the easier move. Dexter instead imagines how a woman might become as dangerous as her reputation without treating danger as a birth defect. Conquest teaches one lesson, enslavement another, Antonia several more. Livia changes what Locusta wants; Agrippina demonstrates how wanting can be exploited. Poison and politics are learned together. By the end, Rome has done more than injure Locusta. It has educated her, and education is not the same thing as rescue.

One cost of that education is repetition. The short chapters keep events moving better than they keep the book compressed, and the middle revisits Gaius’s instability, Locusta’s fear for Livia and the quarrel between protection and autonomy after each is clear. The architecture is better than the trimming. The late run is tighter: Antonia dies; Locusta is freed; Caligula falls; Claudius rises; Agrippina returns; Fortuna appears; the imagined escape closes. Almost every solution carries the next problem in its pocket.

Under that accumulation, 82/100 and 4/5 stars feels right. Dexter can overstate an emotion the scene has already earned, and some of her best moral problems receive less pressure than her best plot reversals. But the pleasures are not cosmetic. The romance changes the politics. The magic changes Locusta’s idea of what she can do. Poison moves from craft to weapon to employment, and the same skill that grants her leverage makes her newly valuable to people with more of it. The ending does not merely reserve more history for another volume. It changes what freedom has meant in this one.

Late in the final chapter, Livia marries Manius and Agrippina has effectively conscripted Locusta into Nero’s ascent. Locusta returns to the villa that once looked like proof of self-possession and breaks down. Then she gets to work. Poison follows poison as she imagines Agrippina, Claudius, Livia’s husband and anyone else who might own, threaten or obstruct her. It would be easy to read the scene as a victory pose: woman wronged, rage awakened, laboratory stocked. Dexter leaves enough bitterness in the cup to prevent it.

Outside, Rome remains Rome: marble, marriage, armies, households, gods. Inside, a freedwoman bends over her plants and brews. The image contains both versions of her education. She has acquired a room of her own and filled it with the means by which other people will continue to direct her life.

She has become exquisitely good at reading death and only belatedly learns what it means to be read by power. The second volume need not ask whether Locusta can become Rome’s poisoner; the first has already shown us the education. The harder question is what happens when she becomes fluent enough in Rome’s language to mistake it for her own.

[Siavahda]

I know most people have no idea what I’m talking about when I talk about writing rhythm. I have run into a few other readers who ‘hear’ it like I do, but clearly most people are not cursed with this ridiculous sensitivity. I envy you!

If you do hear it, then you will immediately discover that the rhythm of Locusta is…not-great. It’s choppy and discordant, and every time it starts to settle, there’s suddenly a far-too-long sentence with no commas or other pauses in it, kicking the rhythm ‘out of tune’ again. I was grinding my teeth before I got to the end of the first chapter.

Even if you don’t hear writing rhythm, though, I’m not sure you’re going to enjoy this book. The prose is pretty bland, there’s a lot of telling-not-showing, and the phrasing/wording is often odd, clunky. There are a lot of instances of thesaurisitis, ie, instead of using a typical word, there’s a synonym of it – but synonyms often have different connotations from each other. ‘Murmur’ and ‘mumble’ are synonyms, but if you mean one then the other is incorrect, and that kind of thing is rampant in this book. And even when that’s not the problem, metaphors and similes are often overwritten, with extra details that detract from the power of the image the author’s going for.

Examples of clunky prose below, all taken from my advanced reader copy, so they might well be different or even removed from the final published version of the book.

she smiles a smile that rips open my chest with more efficiency than a short sword.

‘with more efficiency’ is so clumsy for what you’re trying to say. ‘rips open my chest like a short sword’ would have been fine!

a blast of the horn that vibrates my very soul

I’m not sure this is grammatically incorrect, but it sounds/feels off. ‘that makes my soul vibrate’ would have been a way to say it that flowed more naturally.

There were stories–so many I cannot begin to recount them all–of war horns and shining golden weapons and treasure made of the finest stone and holy places and cedar groves that the Druids used to preside over.

This needs a boat-load of commas to break up that long sentence!

She was a priestess, to use the Roman equivalent, a bridge between the world of gods and spirits and our own–a power the Roman Vestals claim to be but are not.

‘a power they claim to be but are not’? That doesn’t make sense. ‘a power they claim to have but don’t’ would work.

Magic was a novelty that Romans seemed unable to resist possessing.

From context, this is talking about how Romans kidnap and enslave any magic-users they find. But ‘unable to resist possessing’ is an incredibly awful way to phrase that. ‘Taking’ or ‘stealing’ or ‘enslaving’ could all have worked there instead of ‘possessing’.

Prose aside, Locusta’s character is not very coherent. By which I mean, she doesn’t act in such-and-such a way because her personality and history manifest in that action; instead, she’s doing things because the plot requires her to do them. And it’s not even really For Plot so much as it is For Drama, the vast majority of the time. Her personality is all over the place, keeps contradicting itself; in the second chapter there’s a big moment which she tells us is the first time she ever defied her mother – but we just spent the whole first chapter with her not wanting to be a druid (which her mother’s teaching her to be) and going against her mother’s teachings, so???

The book is written from the perspective of an adult Locusta looking back on her life. This is a framing that often doesn’t work for me, and didn’t here. There’s no commentary on her child-self’s behaviour or beliefs, which means there’s no sense that Locusta has grown and changed as a person from the child we meet after the prologue. For example, as a child Locusta hates the Druid-training her mother basically forces on her – it would have been interesting to hear adult-Locusta say that now, as an adult, she understands why it was important to her mother, that she understands why her mother tried so hard. The lack of anything like that…in my experience it means the character isn’t going to develop at all over the course of the book. I could obviously be wrong; this is a DNF review, I didn’t finish the book, so I can’t know. But Locusta has given me no incentive to keep reading and find out whether I’m correct about that or not, so this is where it and I part ways.

[Bookish DreamsGallery]

First, Thank you to NetGalley and Hay House LLC for allowing me to listen to an advance audio version of this story, and the following is my honest review of the book.
As a side note I have to give props to the narrator, she helps bring the right emotions to each part of the story and each character individually and I was entrance by her voice and accent the whole time I was listening to the book.
I have always been interested in ancient roman history but I was not really well acquainted with Locusta’s story, am utterly fascinated by this character specially after learning she really existed and being a woman in the Roman empire was no walk in the park, less be honest romans were cunning and brutal, nobody regardless of station, wealth or gender was truly safe, imagine been a young woman from a village from Gaul, that gets suddenly thrown to the wolves after soldiers attacked her village, take some as slaves and killed the rest, including Locusta’s mother, then take Locusta as slave herself but not before her mother performs a secret ritual to bestow her druid gifts unto Locusta, Druids are supposed to be revere because they have healing powers and can commune with the gods, so it would be Locusta’s best chance to survive in this brutal world she is been taken to, but in a twist of fate Locusta being different than her mother gets chosen by Arawn the god of death, so when the ritual is finalized she has a different kind of power than the healing abilities she was expecting, she can sense poison, she can craft poison, she can bring death.
What I did like about the book, the incorporation of the gods and mysticism into the story made it richer and more interesting in my eyes and I like we get to see Locusta’s origins as a girl from Gaul, a little bit of the culture and believes even though is all fiction it help me connect with her character and I wanted to see her grow and succeed, I was expecting a smart, cunning, levelheaded woman navigating a treacherous environment/people, but a woman who will not let anyone or anything defined her or vest her.
What unfortunately didn’t work for me the pacing of this book is was really and I mean really slow, the first half while we learn Locusta’s origins I was ok with it because we are getting to know the character and I don’t mind it being slow if am able to get all the information needed to get an idea of who the character will be in the story, but by the second half it was painful, at times felt pretty repetitive and a lot of tell no show, for example the MC spent more time saying she was willing to kill for the woman she love instead of actually doing something about it, it later came to a point where it felt like empty treats and I got annoyed with her, I also don’t understand why was she so antagonistic with her god, the god that choose her and gave her his powers to use because he saw someone that was similar to him and capable of killing people not as a mindless killer but as a meaning of surviving the perilous life/destiny she was presented with, and am not saying she needed to worship him either but, no need to be so rude all the time for no reason at all, I couldn’t understand the animosity she display for him basically the whole book when he was only helping her survive.
The love story at the beginning seem to be something that will give her that extra drive to do what was necessary and make her even more relatable and hep her character grow, instead did the opposite and made her passive and compliant, at the mercy and will of other people surrounding her, when she is supposed to be this incredible, poweful woman who help bring down emperors and re-shape the Roman empire, but a big part of the book the MC acted like a petulant child, was naïve and even obtuse at times when her life is in constant danger and she has the means to not only survive but thrive in that environment, her being all bark and no bite was painful to read, it felt contradicting at times, one moment she was ferocious and ready to act and the next second she was wining and acting base on her whims instead of having a plan or real direction of what she wanted to accomplish, and I did not see any character grow at all through out the story, by the end of the book it was hard for me to be invested in the character and the story. Am sure a lot of people will love this story and for some could be a good introduction to the intricacies of the ancient Roman Empire, we do get to see a little of how they live and play , but in this case, it was just not for me.

[Ariel]

I really wanted to like Locusta, and at times I did, but it never fully satisfied me. I was excited to read about a morally complex woman whose role in Roman history is relatively under-documented. The historical Locusta left behind just enough information to spark the imagination, and I was eager to see how the author would bring her to life. I also love a good sapphic romance. Between those two elements, I was primed to enjoy this book. Unfortunately, I never felt that the various pieces of the story fully came together. The novel introduces several compelling ideas, but it struggles to decide which of them should take center stage.

At times, Locusta wants to be a historical drama, but the historical setting doesn't always feel fully realized. There were several moments that pulled me out of the story. For example, the novel describes statues as stark white marble, despite the fact that Roman statues were often brightly painted. That's a small complaint in the grand scheme of things, but I don't want to feel like I might know more about the setting than the author of a historical drama!

As the story of a powerful and influential woman, this also fell a bit short by undercutting Locusta's agency. Rather than depicting her rise as the product of intelligence, expertise, and careful maneuvering, Locusta kind of fumbles through the book and always has her magic to fall back on. I like magic in books, but in this case it left me feeling like Locusta had been diminished rather than enhanced. I found myself wishing for more emphasis on Locusta's cunning and hard work, and less reliance on magic and help from her god.

The romance was another missed opportunity. Locusta's relationship with Livia is clearly intended to be the emotional core of the novel, but it never felt fully developed. The book spends relatively little time building their chemistry or exploring the emotional foundation of their connection, so the romance never carried the weight it seemed intended to. At the same time, because the relationship begins while Locusta is still enslaved and under Livia's control, I wasn't necessarily disappointed that the novel didn't devote more time to the romance. The power imbalance made it difficult for me to fully invest in the relationship as a love story. This actually got worse when Locusta was freed but wished she was still a slave so she could be closer to Livia! That was wild.

What disappointed me most about this book is that it's intended as part one of a duology. I knew that going in, but I expected this to be a more complete story on its own. Rather than having a satisfying conclusion after some major accomplishment, the book kind of just ends in the midst of a bad situation for Locusta. I wish this book was a 700-page tome that told the whole story rather than a shorter novel setting up the first half of one. I'm not sure I enjoyed this enough to come back for part two.

There were some things I enjoyed in this book. I was entirely unfamiliar with Locusta before and she is a fascinating person. Some of the political intrigue works quite well. I like the powerful, older women Locusta is first enslaved to (weird, I know). The prose can be pretty. There was enough there to keep me reading, just maybe not enough to bring me back.

The audiobook I listened to also left me with mixed feelings. The narrator has an odd tendency to pause long enough for a full stop at each comma, making it harder to follow along with. I liked her voice though, and she brought a lot to the role. I eventually got used to her cadence.

Thank you to NetGalley and Hay House for the chance to both listen to and read this early. I did enjoy my time with it, even if it didn't live up to all my hopes for it.

[Emily Capri]

Thanks to NetGalley for the ARC!

This book is the first in a fictional duology re-telling of Locusta, a female poisoner from Ancient Rome. We meet her as a 19year old living in her village, Gaul. We follow Locusta as she becomes a druid, is claimed by Arawn, the god of death and is taken to Ancient Rome as a slave following the slaughter of her village. Under the teachings of Arawn, Locusta furthers her skills and knowledge in different methods of poisoning, identifying poisons and ingredients and what it means to be a druid. After a couple of successes she is given to the grandmother of the current emperor who has her playing lady-in-waiting to her young cousin, Livia. By night, Locusta plays secret poisoner for the Emperor's grandmother while by day she continues as lady-in-waiting to Livia and begins to fall in love with her. They begin a passionate, secret romance while trying to keep each other safe amidst the constant threats and dangers of Ancient Roman politicians and elite.

I'd never heard of Locusta before coming across this book so had no real idea what I was in for. I was fascinated and invested very quickly both with the general story and Locusta specifically. It didn't take long for the story to get intense and the stakes to rise. I'm not typically a big fan of books with plots centred around literal politics but I genuinely really enjoyed this one. The way the politics was woven in with gods, magic and Locusta's improving poisoning skills was well done and was well balanced. Locusta being new to Rome and having to learn all about how everything worked allowed us as the reader to learn alongside her which was helpful. I found the romance between Locusta and Livia to be sweet and genuine and I'm always a fan of a good queer re-telling! Given the two young women spent virtually 24/7 with each other I really felt their relationship made sense and developed in a very natural way.

I found most of the characters in Locusta were complex, layered characters with their own unique motivations and side stories. While Locusta herself could at times be frustrating and a little naive, I do think it was a realistic portrayal of someone in that position. She was a 19 year old who had experienced immense trauma, had her entire life turned on its head overnight, was sold into slavery and left to figure out an entirely new world by herself. Honestly I think she handled it better than I would have as a full-grown adult! It was interesting and fun when characters started popping up that I recognised from history and seeing where they fit into the story. There was definitely a theme throughout the story of the specific difficulty in being a woman in Ancient Rome, especially a woman from a powerful family. The author did a good job at showing the polarity of characters and giving us insight into why they were the way they were. It did get a little confusing at times keeping up with all the different names but that was a me problem and not any sort of failing on the author's end.

I really did enjoy this book! Lots happened in the first part of the story to really set up this world and establish Locusta as a character. That was really interesting and drew me in right away. The middle was a bit slower than the rest of the book and did at times feel a little tedious and drawn out. I didn't find this went on for long though and wasn't too difficult to get passed. The pace then picked up once again and I found myself holding my breath and unable to put the book down until I finished. I will definitely be keeping my eye out for book two because I need to know how Locusta's story ends!

[Daniela M]

I am a sucker for a Greek or Roman retelling, but this was a retelling that felt a bit too much “telling” and not enough showing at times.

Locusta follows the Gaul woman named Locusta who is the last Druid of her people and has a link to the god of death, where she has the innate talent of detecting poison around her. After a siege on her lands that leaves everyone she loves dead, Locusta is sold into slavery until she catches the attention of Roman elites whom want to exploit her talents. Locusta is used and abused by the Roman’s for her ability to see poison as she is sold from household to household to serve as needed. When she sold to Livia, Locusta does everything in her god given power to right those who’ve wronged her Domnia.

What I loved about this story was the strong start that we had; I felt connected to Locusta. I felt her rage, her helplessness, and her desires. I loved her connection with all the characters: from her love of Livia, to the battle of wits with Antonia Augusta. This did a great job setting up the feeling of someone navigating the Roman hierarchy, while being a total outsider to its inner workings.

That being said, I wasn’t a huge fan of how the story was told to the audience rather than letting us experience it. Obviously, there is going to be a lot of skimming as we are exploring decades of someone’s life in the timespan of 15 hours, but there were parts of this book where we were in scene with the characters, only to be pulled away from that scene with a transition line that explained a substantial time jump has occurred. It felt jarring because just when I am getting comfortable in these scenes with Locusta and another character, we leave the scene abruptly and then months pass until the next in-person scene. I just feel like there could have been a better way to convey this transition in time without making the audience feel like they were being pulled from the narrative.

At the 60% mark, I started to feel like the story was told and there wasn’t much more I needed from this. It seemed to drag by this point until the end. I feel like this could have been trimmed down a bit, or we could have explored a more detailed shorter span of her life to have a more intimate look in her life. By this point, I wanted the book to end, not because it was bad, but because it became repetitive and there wasn’t much more to say. The ending felt a bit rushed and anticlimactic, but that’s just something that can happen with retellings; sometimes the real story doesn’t end with an epic showdown.

All in all, this is a must read for people who enjoy Circe or Clytemnestra. Women of this period are very interesting and it’s fun to think about what was going on in their heads during this time.

The audiobook is single narration, but the voice actor does an amazing job. She had the perfect voice for someone to read this type of book. She kept me engaged and informed on this person that I did not know.
Thank you NetGalley, Hay House Audiobooks, and the author for the audiobook ARC!

[Katie]

Thanks to NetGalley and Hay House Audiobooks for this advance listener copy in exchange for an honest review.


"Let me be the villain."

A sapphic historical fiction about an OG female serial poisoner with a lot of simmering feminine rage? Say less.

This book is an emotional rollercoaster. Locusta is an amazing character, and following harrowing twists and turns of her journey was a ride that had me ANXIOUS for the next installment.

Historical accuracy nerds may find themselves frustrated as there are changes to male the story less dense than a roman history class in favor of keeping the focus on Locusta and the other women of Rome presented without the MOUNTAINS of contextual explanation needed for all the politics.

That said, it doesn't try to hide the fact that this is a story about a young woman, barely aware of herself as a person, suddenly thrust into one of Rome's most tumultuous eras and how she struggles not only to survive it but find SOME form of purpose and even happiness within the new surroundings and system she's forced into.

There is a mystical element to this version of Locusta's story as her patron god features quite a bit as her poison mentor and the rest of the book makes mention to other gods as well. Not to be a downer, but it could be said that the supernatural assistance sort of takes away the genius that the actual person Locusta would have had to be to get her infamy. In a time period where women's accomplishments (good or bad) so rarely got acknowledged, is adding godly influence worth diluting the credit? This is a discussion I'm looking forward to bringing to friends who also read this book.

The romance in this story had me leaning in different ways in my feelings on the whole. On one hand, it IS at least partly, a master/slave relationship which arguably WOULD have been something that happened in time and place this book is set. A lot is done by the narrative to try to make the relationship as consensual as possible, the main couple not getting together until a particular festival that has Locusta as free as she or anyone is likely to expect she'll ever be. However, it's hard to see how these women WOULDN'T develop some form of codependent relationship, given their situations and proximity. Again, though, the inclusion of her partner (the arguably entirely fictional Livia) also ends up sort of reframing a number of Locusta's actions as those of a woman in love trying to protect that love. Survival and/or retaliation against the city and people that tore her from her home take a backseat to Livia's health and well-being. Not that getting to help her lover CAN'T be a motivator, I feel like folks that aren't as into the Romance genre may not enjoy the shift in focus.

Finally, I just want to give flowers to the narrator, Hannah Curtis. She gives a lovely performance and I will be looking for more work she's done.

#NetGalley #Locusta

[Bianca Hanga]

3.5⭐️ rounded up to 4⭐️

This had the potential to be a 5⭐️ read for me. When I received the ARC, I started reading it immediately, I was so excited for it. My favorite genre is Historical Fiction, so this seemed right up my alley.

I read it and listened to the audiobook at the same time, and I was hooked from the start. The narrator does a very good job at conveying emotion and bringing the story and the characters to life. I listened to the first 20 chapters in one sitting and could not wait to see what happens next.

This is the story of Locusta, the famous poisoner from Ancient Rome, and we follow her from childhood to adulthood, we see her growing up, becoming a Druid, then a slave and a freed woman in Rome, becoming entangled in the politics of the biggest empire.

Unfortunately, the book starts strong but then it loses momentum halfway through.

Locusta seems to have very little agency, which makes some sense given her status as a slave and as a woman in the Roman society, though it seems that she doesn’t really struggle too much with that, seeming to accept her fate pretty easily. She gets to the top of the society circles through sheer luck it seems.

Throughout the book she seems quite shallow, rash, quick to anger, inexperienced in life and political intrigue, she seems to submit very easily to her own desires without much thought about her position and future.

She rejects her Druid position, rejects the god that claimed her but waiting for their help every time she is in a tight place, she is reckless and doesn’t understand the dangers she is facing. This might be done on purpose, since she is 19 years old in the story, and hopefully the second book will show her growth.

The middle of the book was slow, and failed to capture me the same as in the beginning. I felt like there was a lot of telling and not showing, and Locusta’s motivations completely changed once she got to Rome.

The romance was not convincing for me, it was too much insta love, and I found myself rolling my eyes every time Locusta started going on and on about how wonderful Livia was.

There was also not much poisoning happening, almost all of it happened off page, I would have loved to see her preparing her poisons, the ingredients, the effects, instead we are told that she prepares them, they are used all around Rome, and that’s pretty much it.

I am really hoping that the second book will show us a more powerful Locusta, one who learned the game of politics and intrigue, and her poisoner status will have a more prominent focus than in this first one.

Overall this book was good, but not great. I enjoyed the writing, the premise and beginning were very good and I cannot wait to see how her story will progress and end.

The narrator was excellent, I felt like she did a great job bringing the story to life and conveying the emotion from the text.

Thank you NetGalley, Hay House and Emily Dexter for the ARC!

[Ura Bookworm]

**Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for this opportunity**

This is the first time I have ever been informed of Locusta and I was captivated by her capabilities mentioned. Unfortunately there were many times during this book where Locusta could have been an NPC for all I cared. I do have characters I adore such as Locusta's mother who I am unsure of her name being given. She was courageous, knowledgeable and caring. She had been through rape, sexual assault and surviving the destruction of her village yet she never let those break her spirit (she did avenge herself against her rapist so HOORAY!!!). Of course no one is perfect so I did have an issue with how she handled the situation of Locusta doing what she did to the boy that was quite insulting.

Another lady to admire is Antonia. While her morals can be questioned, her intellect, strategic decisions and accurate future planning is to be greatly appreciated. She is proof of how inaccurate it is when a woman is said to be incapable of being a leader when she performed greater than majority of the men who were unsuitable and incapable of the handling the power granted to them solely because of their gender.

Pliny was undoubtedly better than his counterparts on the account that his only business and interest was concerning books only. He was satiated as long as he was left undisturbed to explore and gather more knowledge, often at times leaving banquets to do so(more lucky than I am when I try to do so at parties 😮‍💨)

In my opinion, the political aspect is what greatly boosted this book. There is of course the relationship between Locusta and Livia. Some reviews have mentioned the power imbalance between Livia and Locusta which is justified and correct. There is also the part of Locusta being 18(then 19 later on) while Livia is already in her twenties. This causes slight discomfort but as is obviously known age was never big enough of a barrier to hold people back from engaging with others in however way they wished. An example would be Agrippina the Younger who got married at 13. I had also noticed that Livia had gotten more snappier towards Locusta after she had gained her freedom but Locusta overlooked that because she had the impression it was solely due to Livia being upset at being the only one with restrictions.

There is also the slight issue of Gaius' age. I do not want to give him any more attention than he already has considering he doesn't deserve it when his atrocities are being brought to mind but it was said that he was twenty six when he became emperor and two years later Locusta came to Rome which should have made him twenty eight. Yet it is said that he is less than a decade older than Locusta who was 18 at the time and there was no banquet thrown to celebrate the emperor's birthday at any point.

[Beau]

*Thank you to Hay House for a complimentary arc and alc of Locusta. All opinions expressed are my own.*

Years ago, I accidentally fell down a rabbit hole when I was supposed to be sleeping and ended up reading about Locusta until the late hours of the night. I found her fascinating, so when I stumbled across this book years later, I was beyond intrigued.

With so many gaps in the recorded history of Locusta, there is plenty of room for an author to take liberties when retelling her story. I went into this one determined to have no expectations and simply enjoy whatever version Dexter chose to give us.

The decision to make Locusta’s talent for poison stem from a Druidic bond to a god of death was certainly an interesting direction. Personally, I thought it took away from some of the credit Locusta deserves as a botanist and, essentially, a scholar in her field. At the same time, I can see how this angle could draw readers in and perhaps encourage them to discover more about the real Locusta and the other fascinating figures from this period in history.

I was also expecting significantly more female rage from Locusta. The rage we get at the beginning of the story quickly fizzled once her attention shifted towards yearning and obsessing over Livia. Thankfully, it picked up again towards the end, and I’m hoping that this could be the beginning of a bigger buildup of that rage in the conclusion.

Unfortunately, the romance between Locusta and Livia didn’t quite hook me. The shift from contempt to yearning on both sides caught me off guard, and even once their connection was established, it never felt entirely authentic or natural to me. At times, it felt more like the story was following a romantic plotline by recipe without quite having the correct measurements.

With the audiobook narration, it didn’t do more to immerse me into the story - most of the emotions portrayed on the page, are narrated in the same way in the audio. The yearning was performed perfectly though.

For me, I came for Locusta the poisoner. I was hoping for intrigue surrounding her scholarly side, her takedowns, her knowledge, and that simmering rage. Unfortunately, I didn’t feel like we got enough of those elements. In this version, the scholar isn’t even Locusta herself, but a man who wants to study her magic, which left me feeling like some of the most fascinating aspects of her character had been pushed aside.

The concept had so much potential, and unfortunately, it didn’t quite give me what I had hoped for. That said, I can absolutely see this working for readers who want sapphic yearning centred around historical figures during such an interesting period of history.

[jayden abel]

*Possible Spoilers*

Locusta is a good book, but it definitely won’t be for everyone. Personally, I liked the exploration of value. Everything and everyone has a price. Whether the price is sex, death, gold, or freedom; power is appealing. Locusta, an enslaved Gaul in Rome, has little power. Even with a god at her side, she’s still a woman, and therefore considered worthless.

For most of the book, the reader isn’t living through events as they happen. Locusta is looking back at what got her to where she is. The daughter of a healing druid and a rapist, Locusta learned that power is destructive but also necessary. When Roman soldiers overrun their village, her mother sacrifices herself to keep Locusta alive. Of course that happens right after Locusta gets blessed(?) by the god of death. The trauma and symbolism isn’t subtle. She gets captured and becomes an enslaved “healer” (she can generally create death, not undo it). As long as she’s worth something to a man, Locusta gets to live.

She gets gifted to a cunning mistress, who pulls the strings of Ancient Rome behind her back. Antonia is the grandmother of Julius Caesar, and the great grandmother of Locusta’s love interest, Livia. Antonia was one of my favorite characters. Equipped with Locusta’s poisons, Antonia made men feel important, in exchange for their loyalty. Instead of taking men down herself, she let them rip each other up in a game of power. She sets everything up so that her family’s power is secured.

Locusta and Livia are a bit weird, but they do fit the story. Antonia assigns Livia to Locusta, as a challenge of loyalty. At first the two clash, but over time they build a connection. Livia is kind, and well-meaning, and Locusta is looking for something of her own. Both are at the mercy of men. You can see this relationship either as an abuse of power, or a rebellion against the patriarchy. Locusta, who is a bringer of death, and Livia, who is rich beyond measure, are powerless but find power in protecting each other. Like I said, they’re a weird couple.

My other favorite character was Livia’s aunt, Agrippina. The sister of Julius Caesar, she is manipulative and cruel. She cages Locusta by sparing Livia’s life. Another woman deemed expendable by men, she makes villainous choices to win a rigged game. I empathized with Agrippina’s character.

While reading, I would definitely recommend having Google on stand-by. Tracking Julius Caesar's family tree becomes tedious.

Thank you to NetGalley and Hay House for an ARC in exchange for my honest review.

[G Stone]

Few books hook me at page one like Locusta did. I read it on audiobook, and I got through it too quickly (very glad it is a duology)!
The narrators voice is 10/10! I think the choice of a performer with a British accent was so smart.

I love a complicated woman character, and I love when the story is told from inside of her head. This is my absolute favorite way for a story to be told. And, my favorite kind of character is a morally ambivalent woman. Often authors will lean too heavily into an uninteresting sociopath trope where they tell you "this character has no feelings." And, that is boring. Or, the character becomes a super-hero. And, I wasn't here to read about a super-hero. I was here to read about a real woman, who existed, and who I wanted to get to know. This historical re-imagining of Locusta was exquisite. Locusta, as a character, contains multitudes. Her shame about who she is and who she is not is deeply relatable. Her queer love story captures the feeling of being in a queer relationship that is not societally supported. Like, daggers to my heart! Locusta and Liv's love story reads how it feels to be in a closeted relationship. And, the author accomplishes this without telling you how to feel or beating you over the head with it. She just allows Locusta to be Locusta on the page.

In fact, the author allows all of the women to be themselves. I found myself also rooting for and sympathizing with the "villainous" female character (almost all the men are villains, as we are seeing the world through the eyes of a poisoner who takes down abusive men). But, Locusta seems to also see her rival as human and to understand her. Not that it means she wouldn't take her down!

The systemic critique of the patriarchal society she lives in feels so relevant to now. And, the author shows that Locusta is critical of the power structures that she is constrained by without it sounding like it is a critique from present day hoisted onto Ancient Rome. The knowledge Locusta has really feels like the knowledge Locusta would have.

Despite living with a death god in her head in Ancient Rome I found Locusta relatable and real.
It's clear that Emily Dexter loves women and loves her characters. Of course, reading a book about characters who are beloved by the author and known by her is a lovely experience.

Emily's prose is captivating. I keep thinking about the poisonous glow of the wisteria. I now wish I had the magical power to see poisons!

[Ashe]

3.75 stars rounded up
Thank you to Hay House LLC and NetGalley for an e-arc copy!!
The first third of this book - I had an absolute blast with just overall learning about Locusta, her mother, and her original culture was nice and it really made the book go by quickly. Absorbing the world building and knowledge. Although after the first third and when Locusta got introduced to the love interest, that's when the political game of chess kind of started. Maybe, political intrigue and the games that one most play to gain power/stay in power/making sure life stays comfortable for you and your family - just really isn't my thing. I found it to be a slog and difficult to get through. The most important thing to Locusta is making sure her beloved remains safe; even at the cost of Locusta's life/comfort. Though, the last 2 chapters really picked back up and I am curious to see how everything comes together and how the story will tie up. Had a blast reading Arawn's interactions with Locusta. They were a blast anytime they were in the scene and really grown attach to their character. Cannot wait to (hopefully) learn more about their connection to Locusta in the 2nd book.
Note: This wasn't a happy book at all - it was actually quite dark and sometimes a little heavy. You're in the space of Roman women, who didn't have much freedom. The only way they could have freedom is by plotting and scheming. There's a good bit of abuse towards the women - though much of it isn't explicit - just implied through the text. There are also a ton more non-explicit but there in between words of SA, possible incest, and some scenes of murder. Book 1 didn't have a happy ending, as our MC didn't end up in a place where she could fully enjoy life her beloved. And her beloved was forced into a situation she didn't want.

Pros: Sapphic, Arawn is fun, the exploration of the Gods and their powers was cool, the writing style was nice - really enjoyed Emily Dexter's writing style and world building. The ending left off on a nice cliff hanger.

Cons: It was a slog to get through the middle of the book, Locusta was a very rash and emotionally driven MC - she made decisions only out of care for her beloved and could be sometimes a little reckless because of it, but Locusta was very young (18-19) and will have a chance to grow in the next book.