It is glaringly obvious that author JP Kenwood knows and loves her Ancient Roman history. While that doesn’t mean her Dominus series is steeped in fact-based storytelling—author privilege is a right of passage and makes the characters and setting more interesting—there is little doubt that Gaius Fabius Rufus, the brash and bold and bigger than life Lion of the Lucky Fourth, and his Dacian slave Prince Allerix are inspiring the glory days of the Roman Empire in significant, albeit fictional, ways. That there is a murder mystery, political intrigue, and a bit of the paranormal mixed in with the forbidden love affair between master and slave gives the series a unique flavor that has now become even more complex.
Blood Before Wine is an angsty installment in the overall arc of the series. The relationship between Gaius and Alle is not only complicated by their stations but also by the thorny path they’ve been led down by way of their deepening feelings. They are tangled up in duty, loyalty, desire, and Alle’s thirst for vengeance, among other things, and this book leads readers through the myriad disasters that could occur should identities be revealed, blood and secrets be outed, and plans for revenge be realized. Kenwood relishes in the lusty sexual connection shared by her leading men, and allows her readers the opportunity to become invested in what seems as if it will be an impossible love story. The piquant emotional tone and the unraveling of what was only hanging on by the barest of threads at the end of this book leaves us on the hook for how everything will play out as the series draws closer to its inevitable conclusion. And I am here to see how it all resolves.
One of the things I have a tendency not to give enough appreciation to is the way the present and the past are being brought together through Professor Charles Hughes and a man he’s only recently become acquainted with, Yves Bouchard, so I want to do that now. The discovery of a relic that connects our fascination with history to the history itself through Gaius and Allerix is a clever way of teasing out how things will conclude. This is not a tragic romance and yet, given the commingling of the characters and their place in time with the modern day, there is a certain poignancy in knowing that while Gaius and Alle didn’t live forever, there are pieces of them that will outlive time. They are legend and the artifacts that offer them a semblance of immortality is a lovely and romantic twist.
There is a magic and mysticism that elevates the climactic scenes towards the end of the book, while fortune and fate deliver these characters to their final destinations at their godly wants and whims. There is a sort of fatalism to things, especially for Gaius and his tendency to throw caution and free will to the gods, which also affects the tone of the story. And sometimes it frustrates me,
but
in a good way—I appreciate any sort of emotional response an author elicits from me, because it means I’m invested in their characters, and I'm more than embedded in the lives of these two men.
I have been and remain fully intrigued my Gaius and Allerix and am anxious to pick up with them where this book has left me hanging. Once again duty and loyalty come to the fore to complicate this romance, which is now a full-fledged and deeply mutual love, and I’d have to have a heart of stone not to have been touched by where they are headed next, whether by their own design, at the hands of others, or at the mercy of chance.