WINTER’S SEASON
by R.J. Koreto
January 26 – February 20, 2026 Virtual Book Tour
Hi, everyone!
Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for WINTER’S SEASON by R.J. Koreto on this Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tour.
Below you will find a book description, my book review, an excerpt from the book, the author’s bio, the author’s social media links, and a Promoamp giveaway sponsored by Partners In Crime. Enjoy!
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Book Description
In 1817 London, Before the Police, There Was Captain Winter.
London, 1817. A city teeming with life, yet lacking a professional police force. When a wealthy young woman is brutally murdered in an alley frequented by prostitutes, a shadowy government bureau in Whitehall dispatches its “special emissary”―Captain Winter. A veteran of the Napoleonic Wars and a gentleman forged by chance and conflict, Winter is uniquely equipped to navigate the treacherous currents of London society, from aristocratic drawing rooms to the city’s grimmest taverns.
Without an army of officers or the aid of forensic science, Winter must rely on his wits and a network of unconventional allies. His childhood friend, a nobleman, opens doors in high society, while a wise Jewish physician uncovers secrets the dead cannot hide.
But Winter’s most intriguing, and potentially dangerous, asset is Barbara Lightwood. Shrewd, beautiful, and operating as a discreet intermediary among the elite, Barbara shares a past with Winter from the war years. Their rekindled affair is fraught with wariness; she offers intimate information crucial to his investigation, but guards her own secrets fiercely. Like Winter, she is both cunning and capable of danger.
From grand houses to dimly lit streets, death stalks Captain Winter. He must tread carefully to unmask a killer, navigate a web of secrets and lies, and perhaps, in the process, save his own soul.
Winter’s Season
Genre: Thriller, Historical, Romance, Political, Crime
Published by: Histria Books
Publication Date: February 17, 2026
Number of Pages: 300
ISBN: 9781592116898 (ISBN10: 1592116892)
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My Book Review
RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars
WINTER’S SEASON by R.J. Koreto is a new Regency mystery with an exciting cast of characters from all levels of Regency society, an intriguing murder mystery, and a well-paced investigative procedural led by retired military Captain Edmund Winter who now works for the Home Office. While this is a standalone book at this time, I would love to see it become a series because I did not want it to end.
The Napoleonic war ended two years ago and now in 1817, after his return from a deployment to India, Captain Edmund Winter finds himself working for the Home Office. With the successful capture of a murderer targeting prostitutes, Winter and the Bow Street Runners he is assisting find an unrelated corpse at the scene. It turns out to be a young Society woman who the family assumed had returned to their country home.
Winter must use his wits to navigate Society ballrooms and the shadowy secrets they keep with the help of unconventional friends. His childhood friend, now a nobleman, a Jewish physician from the Army who now performs autopsies, and a secretive woman from Winter’s past who is more than an entrée into society families. While Winter is dangerous to all those who cross him or threaten those he cares for, he must be careful because someone has already tried to kill him before he can unravel the secrets and lies to discover a murderer.
This is one of those books that I just fell into and could not put down. Capt. Winter is a compelling protagonist with so many facets. The main characters are all fascinating and fully developed, and the mystery is well plotted with plenty of twists and surprises, and well-paced to keep me reading. The author’s research is evident from the descriptions of the multiple levels of society, from nobility to servants, and the required or proper access to them and how to talk with them.
I highly recommend this thrilling Regency mystery and hope I get to read more about Capt. Winter’s investigations in the future.
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Excerpt
CHAPTER I
It was the custom of Colonel Sir Joshua Williams to invite his veteran officers to his house each Season to commemorate the Battle of San Stefano. After dinner, the closing ceremony was invariable: First, the ladies rose, the young in their pale blues and pinks and the more matronly in their deeper reds and purples. They smiled and departed, leaving the table surrounded by men in their scarlet coats, adorned with medals glittering by the light of dozens of beeswax candles in their silver holders. The liveried footmen filled the port glasses and left as well, closing the doors behind them.
One former company captain looked around, taking note that he was the youngest battle veteran there—the toast would fall to him. Others had moved on or died. He had himself missed last year’s dinner, spending it on the Afghan border, dressed like a Saracen and getting his skin burned black while trying to uncover the secrets of that land’s sullen and violent inhabitants. Even the task he had to complete after leaving tonight, difficult as it seemed, was nothing compared with that.
The colonel caught his eye, and so the captain stood. Every man stopped talking as the captain raised his glass, and then they stood at attention. He remembered the words easily, and in a strong voice he said, “Did our battle line ever break?”
“No!” shouted the company.
“Why did it not break?”
“We are the hard men,” they replied in unison.
“Gentlemen, to our departed brothers of the First Northumberland Foot,” called the captain. They drained their glasses and slammed them down, then burst into applause. The dinner was over.
The captain—indeed, he suspected, the other officers as well—was reflecting on how this dinner came about in a year of peace. The English and their allies had defeated Napoleon for the final time at Waterloo two years past now in 1815 and life was moving on—the best people were all in London this time of year, with no war to talk about, just fashions and parties and theater and how good it was to be able to import from France the best claret again.
They rejoined the ladies in the drawing room, and the captain sought out Lady Williams, the colonel’s wife.
“My Lady, thank you for your invitation.”
“It is I who should thank you, captain. These dinners mean so much to the colonel as he ages, having all his officers around.”
“And he means so much to us, Lady Williams, the pleasure and honor are ours. I am only glad I am back in London so I can attend.”
“Yes, he mentioned you found a position in the Home Office?” She showed as much surprise and curiosity as a lady of her breeding dared reveal. The captain knew the look—how did a man of his obscure background land what appeared to be a distinguished government position? Despite its simple name, the Home Office had become, since its founding some 25 years before, one of the most powerful and overarching government ministries, with responsibility for security and safety within the British Isles. The Home Secretary was one of the most influential men in England. How Winter had advanced his career in that august body was beyond reckoning.
“Yes, my lady. The work is interesting, but at times onerous, I’m afraid. Indeed, my masters call me even now.”
“At this hour, captain? How tedious for you. But again, I am pleased you could come. Give my warmest regards to the Earl and Countess.”
The captain said goodbye to his colonel and a few other officers, and the butler saw him out. He walked to the nearest stand and engaged a hackney cab to Bow Street Court. A few heads turned as he entered the building, but no one accosted him. A clerk gave him the barest nod but said nothing as he entered a room.
A few minutes later, the captain came out. He was no longer in his regimentals, but in rather shabby outfit, almost rural, with a slouch hat. Down the hall, he entered another room, where a squad of Bow Street Runners awaited—constables, employed by the local court at Bow Street, to keep order and seize felons. Winter suppressed a grimace. They were poorly trained and poorly paid, but it was pretty much all London had for law enforcement. Many still thought the idea of a formal professional constabulary too much government interference—too un-English. So, the Runners would have to do. At least they were willing and obedient.
“We have already gone over where you should be standing,” said the captain. “You know how important it is you aren’t seen.” There was more than instruction in his voice–there was menace.
“Yes, sir,” said the most senior constable present.
“Then take your places. I’ll be along shortly.”
Moving quickly, he left the building and walked along dark streets that became progressively dirtier and more dangerous. He saw men hiding in the shadows, those who preyed on the weak and unaware, but nothing happened to him.
Eventually he came to a building that was well-lit, at least by the neighborhood standards. It was certainly the noisiest venue in the street. The cracked and faded sign marked it as The Three Bells.
The Captain entered—a few were eating off dirty plates, and almost everyone was drinking beer, or something stronger. Slatternly women laughed and tried to slip away from the half-drunk men who loudly pursued them. Some allowed themselves to be caught, and there was more laughter and then a talk of money. The whole room smelled of smoke and grease, and the floor was sticky from weeks of spilled ale.
Few paid attention to the captain, but a fat man walked up to him surprisingly quickly for someone of his bulk.
“Oh captain, I am so pleased, do you think—”
“Shut up. Where’s Sally? She was suitable last night, and she’ll be suitable tonight.”
“Sally—oh there she is.” He pointed to a tallish girl wearing more makeup than an actress. A large man in worker’s clothes, probably a stevedore, thought the captain, had grabbed her and placed her on his lap. She didn’t seem to mind.
The captain strode over, grabbed the woman by her wrist, and pulled her off the man’s lap.
“Come, my girl, we have an appointment as you well know.”
She yelped with surprise, then gave a shrug and followed. The large man stood up.
“See here—I saw her first,” he said. His accent wasn’t London, which explained everything.
“Good for you,” said the Captain, and pulled the girl across the room. The big man started to follow, but two of his friends grabbed him.
“Now Jake, no need to cause trouble,” said the first, who was clearly local.
“Cause trouble? I’ll flatten him—”
“No, you won’t. You don’t know, you’re new here. For God’s sake, that’s the Captain, a soldier, they say he was, and you don’t want to start something with him—I’ve seen what happens to those who do—”
“That’s right,” chimed in the other friend, also a Londoner. “Remember Big Nick—used to be here, no one stood up to him, but he challenged the Captain…” he shuddered.
“And what happened?” asked a skeptical Jake. Both men look their heads.
“We never saw him again. He wasn’t arrested. They didn’t find his body—he was just…gone. So just stop thinking about it. There are plenty of other girls.”
But Jake still felt he had to make a show of standing up for himself.
“So, you’re telling me it would be a mistake to call him out?”
“Your last mistake,” said the first man. Then very softly, as if he was afraid of his words, he said, “He’s called Winter. If you’re thinking of staying in this part of London, you would do well to remember that name.”
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Author Bio
R.J. Koreto is the author of the Historic Home mystery series, set in modern New York City; the Lady Frances Ffolkes mystery series, set in Edwardian England; and the Alice Roosevelt mystery series, set in turn-of-the-century New York. His short stories have been published in Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine and Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine, as well as various anthologies.
Most recently, he is the author of “Winter’s Season,” which takes place on the dark streets and glittering ballrooms of Regency-era London.
In his day job, he works as a business and financial journalist. Over the years, he’s been a magazine writer and editor, website manager, PR consultant, book author, and seaman in the U.S. Merchant Marine. Like his heroine, Lady Frances Ffolkes, he’s a graduate of Vassar College.
He and his wife have two grown daughters, and divide their time between Paris and Martha’s Vineyard.
Social Media Links
www.RJKoreto.com
Amazon Author Profile
Goodreads
BookBub
Instagram – @rjkoreto
Facebook – @rjkoreto
Purchase Links
- Amazon – https://pictbooks.tours/o96DPCGz
- Kindle – https://pictbooks.tours/tVUdzioW
- BN – https://pictbooks.tours/2UbQTHw1
- BookShop.org – https://pictbooks.tours/20cJuS9n
- Goodreads – https://pictbooks.tours/Et8XWBc0
- BookBub – https://pictbooks.tours/pSqk0cbu
- Publisher – https://pictbooks.tours/kcE4apFF
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PROMOAMP GIVEAWAY
https://pictbooks.tours/mTgK1prm
