I am so pleased and excited to be welcoming R.J. Koreto to Novel Kicks and the blog tour for his novel, Winter’s Season.

Winter’s Season by R.J. Koreto follows a man tasked with enforcing justice before the tools to define it exist. Through Captain Winter’s perspective, the story examines how authority operates when law is informal and accountability is selective.

 In a city still shaped by war, Captain Winter serves as Whitehall’s “special emissary,” confronting crimes meant to be handled quietly. When a young woman is murdered, his investigation exposes connections that reach beyond the crime itself, binding privilege and violence together.

Winter’s path is shaped by uneasy reliance on others. A nobleman tied to his past opens doors to influence, while a wise Jewish physician brings careful observation to a world driven by rumor. The case grows more volatile with the return of Barbara Lightwood, a former lover whose intelligence and social access place her near dangerous truths. Her guarded involvement unsettles Winter at a critical moment.

As pressure mounts, Winter is forced to confront not only the crime, but the moral limits of his role in pursuing justice.

R.J. Koreto has kindly shared an extract with us today. We really hope you enjoy it. 

*****beginning of extract*****

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.”

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