The Red Winter by Cameron Sullivan Review

A tragic love story, a bewitching twist on history, and a blood-drenched hunt for purpose, power, and redemption—The Red Winter by debut author Cameron Sullivan is the story of the first werewolf.
 

In 1785, Professor Sebastian Grave receives the news he fears most: the terrible Beast of Gevaudan has returned, and the French countryside runs red in its wake.
 

Sebastian knows the Beast. A monster-slayer with centuries of experience, he joined the hunt for the creature twenty years ago and watched it slaughter its way through a long and bloody winter. Even with the help of his indwelling demon, Sarmodel – who takes payment in living hearts – it nearly cost him his life to bring the monster down.
 

Now, two decades later, Sebastian has been recalled to the hunt by Antoine Avenel d’Ocerne, an estranged lover who shares a dark history with the Beast and a terrible secret with Sebastian. Drawn by both the chance to finish the Beast for good and the promise of a reconciliation with Antoine, Sebastian cannot refuse.
 

But Gevaudan is not as he remembers it, and Sebastian’s unfinished business is everywhere he looks. Years of misery have driven the people to desperation, and France teeters on the edge of revolution. Sebastian’s arcane activities – not to mention his demonic counterpart – have also attracted the inquisitorial eye of the French clergy. And the Beast is poised to close his jaws around them all and plunge the continent into war.
 

Debut author Cameron Sullivan tears the heart out of history with this darkly entertaining retelling of the hunt for the Beast of Gevaudan. Lifting the veil on the hidden world behind our own, it reimagines the story of Europe, from Imperial Rome to Saint Jehanne d’Arc, the madness of Gilles de Rais and the first flickers of the French Revolution.

What do a legendary cryptid, gods, angels and demons, the Hundred Year’s War, an immortal arcanist and his succubus housekeeper have in common? Ordinarily nothing at all unless it’s Cameron Sullivan’s novel The Red Winter. An ambitious book mixing together fantasy and historical fiction elements across the board heightened with touches of paranormal horror, the Red Winter is as entertaining as it is imaginative with a unique and quirky tongue in cheek tone. Unexpectedly humorous and endearing while describing French countrymen being viscously torn apart, Sullivan’s storytelling is an incredible vibe made all the more impressive as a debut novel. While its far-reaching story, slow pacing, and complex split timeline approach can make it a challenging read for some, this is otherwise a really fun and off-beat historical fantasy book.

At its core, the story behind the Red Winter is one of French turmoil that cleverly provides plausible fantasy origins to mysterious historical events. Presented as a written recollection or memoir of the events by the immortal arcanist Sebastian Graves, the book follows Sebastian and his demon possession “guest” Sarmodel returning to impoverished province of Gévaudan after the deadly events around the famed beast nearly twenty years ago. In addition to his return, the book also covers his original visit in the past that culminates in the book’s namesake event as well as his involvement with particular famed figures in the 15th century in Rouen, France. Besides Sebastian’s odd immortal existence and his demonic guest that looms metaphorically over his shoulder, there’s also angelic presence and conflicts with the church, Roman gods of power, economic oppression and instability, and a bound succubus acting as an unwilling accomplice doubling as a housekeeper (yes you read that right).

If these various elements sound all over the place and are far-fetched for a story based on a wild cryptid terrorizing the French countryside, you would be correct. And admittedly while entertaining, the early chapters of the Red Winter initially seem to back that up. However, against all odds, Sullivan’s wild combination miraculously works though it takes a while for the different narrative pieces to fit together. While the split timeline perspective sometimes feels a bit fragmented, particularly the chronologically earliest scenes with Livia that do a bit of jumping between chapters, the clues and details in each sequence of events start to make sense with their contributions to the beast’s resolution. Clocking in at over five hundred pages, the pacing is on the slower end and sometimes feels like it’s dragging or going on tangents in the moment, but patience is rewarded when the book reaches its satisfying and heartfelt ending.

Now I will openly admit that this was one of my most anticipated reads of 2026 mainly because it feels like a hyper-specific algorithm suggested book specially catered to all of my reading interests. A unique historical fantasy story, witty and sarcastic internalized banter, cryptozoology mystery, and a M/M romance that doesn’t overshadow the plot, this is a crazy on-brand book for me. If this review sounds overly positive, it’s likely due to it being a niche and near perfect Jeff book narrative recipe (tentatively ratings this a 5.0, might lowered slightly later). The beast of Gévaudan is one of the most fascinating cryptids out there given its frightening history and brief window of activity compared to its more famous yet reclusive peers; you don’t hear Nessie or the Yeti murdering over a hundred people back-to-back. Given its mysterious circumstances, famed historical reports, and relation to public hysteria which even invoked official royal intervention, the beast of Gévaudan is perfect source material for paranormal fantasy or horror stories that I’m surprised isn’t done more often. Sullivan expertly uses the beast’s wolf-like reputation to put a unique spin on the werewolf concept that’s a refreshingly different use within the greater context of French history. The Red Winter is also more than just a simple beast or slasher tale, also involving some flashy arcane magic, wards, and other fantasy elements that pull from various mythological or folklore origins.

But outside of its compelling narrative material, easily one of the most notable elements of the book that really sells it is its colorful narration style and consistently excellent humor. It may seem odd calling a fantasy horror and paranormal book delightful or playful, but it really is. The main character Sebastian Graves and his demonic guest Sarmodel are surprisingly light-hearted, lowkey comical, and have amazing dialogue that helps keep the reading experience fun as people die around them. I’m personally a bit of an old-school reader that sometimes finds books with excessive footnotes to be excessive or lazily dropping contextual information that should’ve been written into the actual text block instead. However, the Red Winter gets a free pass for simply being hilarious. While some are clearly funny and snarky fluff, the numerous footnotes are usually a good balance of jokes, detailed explanations of the world’s magic system, lost in French translation shenanigans, and other interesting tidbits. It also helps that Sullivan awareness and control of the book’s tension and mood, playing the humor just right without ridiculing or detracting from the novel’s dark and quite serious material. The book’s approach to its story, occasional narration shifts to the exasperated succubus Livia, and overall feel just works so well, for lack of better words its tone is just a vibe.

In addition to its wonderfully fun feel, the Red Winter also has well-developed and memorable characters. Sebastian Graves and Sarmodel have kind of a good guy/chaotic guy set up with dark humor that brightens up even the driest moments of the story, and his dynamics with the other main characters are great. A sort of optimistic nihilist set on survival and getting by, Sebastian isn’t morally gray vs simply choosing when to actively care which is such a mood. Interestingly, the Red Winter takes an almost Hercule Poirot approach with Sebastian, Sarmodel, and Livia where this book’s events are just one story over the course of their immortal lives, leaving a lot of interesting areas in their backstories left to explore in a possible future book. The juggling of Sebastian’s first visit to Gévaudan vs his subsequent summoning nineteen years later is kept distinctive thanks to his different travel companions Antoine Avenel d’Ocerne in 1766 and his son Jacques in 1785, one charming and exuberant while the other distrustful and withdrawn.

While the Red Winter is first and foremost a historical fantasy story, it’s also very much one of queer love and the sacrifices one makes for those that are important to them. Though decisively not a romantasy book by any means, debatably not even a fantasy romance, this book is centered around an endearing M/M romance that’s tastefully written and handled. While it’s important to note that this story primarily takes place in the 18th century, it’s also one of bi/pan representation for both Sebastian and to a lesser and more deadly extent Livia. The romance doesn’t go into too much detail in terms of character motivations, pining, or areas that romantasy readers are likely looking for, but it’s done well enough to sell the character’s love and devotion for each other within the context of its larger plot. I’ve seen some reviews criticize the book for Sebastian only finding Antoine interesting because of his looks and presence, and to be frank, as a guy that’s sometimes all that’s really needed to be down bad, most M/M romances are by no means realistic. As the stakes and tension grow with the strength of the beast and outside influences, their relationship, bond, and warring opinions of the church, the book does a great job with themes of trust and change. The Red Winter isn’t a book meant to be picked up solely for its queer M/M romance, but it’s written and utilized effectively enough for its narrative purpose and important character motivations in order for its ending to work.

Though the Red Winter’s vibe is impeccable, there are certain elements of the book that will not be for everyone. First and foremost, its length, slow pacing, and sometimes fragmented split timeline presentation can be difficult for some readers to stay invested with at best, at worst feeling like the book lost the plot until the story fully takes shape. Until at least halfway through the book, the inclusion and references to the Hundred Year’s War can feel like it’s out of place and its tendency to jump around tricky to follow; it’s also quite long for its narrative contribution to the story. General familiarity with the time period, major players, and historical context can help considerably with the events in the 15th century; many of the book’s funniest and most imaginative moments can fly over the reader’s head if they don’t get the historical reference (admittedly I’m not very familiar with French history at all and would frequently search up historical figures and events to parse out what’s happening outside of Gévaudan’s material). The queer romance is appropriately developed for its narrative purpose but does not play to romantasy or M/M romance-exclusive reader tastes. While there’s a magic system in-place and lore, it likely could’ve been explored further instead of being mostly related to footnotes. And finally, its sometimes liberally inspired historical elements and lighthearted take on real historical events involving mass casualties and death can be off-putting for some overly sensitive readers. Personally, I think those that rate this book poorly are those that have no sense of humor, but to each their own.

Creative and full of witty humor, the Red Winter is an entertaining book perfectly suited for veteran SFF readers looking for something a little quirky and offbeat. Despite having an ambitiously crafted plot and extensive fantasy elements, its amazingly pitched tone makes it so much fun and certainly a lot of more accessible to those that would otherwise be turned off by its grisly and graphic scenes of death and mauling; for those that find the horror genre tag concerning, rest assured this book is not spooky or scary, simply violent and a little crass. The fact that this book is also Cameron Sullivan’s debut novel is astounding given his confident prose and distinctive storytelling, the only indicator being Sullivan’s own acknowledgement section stating how many years went into crafting this novel prior to it being accepted by Tor. Given this story’s anthology/memoir-like nature, I can easily see a future book or series building off of this book’s iconic characters and intriguing world, especially with how much unexplored topics and history Sebastian, Sarmodel, and Livia can get into. That said, even if Sullivan’s next book has nothing to do with Red Winter, you can count on me being there eager to pick up whatever he cooks up next.