Intrigued? Read on to discover the synopsis and an excerpt from To Catch a Sinner by Dylan Allen, which releases on June 23rd 2026.

Who gets to tell this story?
The sinner who lived it?
Or the saint who stole it?

Sin Sackey is driven by the same hardwired need as every eldest first-generation daughter—to make her family proud. And she built her career and chose her partners with that single goal as her north star.

Everyone said she had it all. And for more than twenty years, Sin let herself believe they were right.

Until a near-death experience makes the truth impossible to deny.

Her relationship is on life support. Her journalism career is in freefall. And the city she thought she’d conquer has chewed her up and spit her out.

With everything to prove—and everything to lose—Sin moves back home to Washington, DC, determined to start over. No more chasing shadowy criminals. And no more men who look too good to be true.

But on the eve of the first day of the rest of her new life, the saying about old habits proves painfully accurate.

A new lead falls into her lap, and Sin dives back into the story that nearly cost her everything.
Then, when a man who is all the things she’s sworn to avoid invites her to dinner, she says yes.

After everything she’s been through, it’s reckless.

But this story could resurrect her career—and take down an entire black-market empire. She’s closer than ever to catching its elusive leader, and she can’t let go now.

And this man—who makes her blush, makes her laugh, and understands things she usually has to explain—could be the one. So, she lowers her walls just enough for him to climb over.

But just when it seems her gamble might pay off, her lead starts to feel more like a trap. And the man she’s let herself love appears to be the one who set it.

EXCERPT

Chapter Five

Sin

Divine Intervention

I order an RG&T from the bartender and then look for a free seat at the busy bar.

My phone buzzes with the unique pattern I’ve assigned to my younger sister. She’s called me three times in fifteen minutes. If I don’t answer, she’ll escalate and start looking for me.

I turn away so my back is to the person next to me and take a moment to recall my cover story.

“Hey, Mae!” I answer brightly but in a hushed tone. Thank heavens the restaurant is relatively quiet. “Sorry I missed your calls.”

“Where are you?” she asks.

The bartender places my drink down and I wave my thanks and fish for my wallet while I talk. “I’m in the United lounge. Just waiting for my flight to board.”

There’s a beat of quiet from her end. “I didn’t realize you were leaving today. Why don’t you stay for Easter?”

“I decided last minute. I was going to call you when I got through security and forgot. I’m sorry.” I hate lying to her, but she’s got a big mouth, and I can’t risk my parents finding out I’m still here.

“Yeah, you are,” she retorts. “I didn’t even get to say a proper goodbye.”

“You’re having it now.”

“You’re so mean, Sin.”

“I know, but I love you. Is everything okay at home?”

My sister sighs. “Yeah, no, everything is cool. Mama and Daddy went to a special service at church. I came over thinking I’d find you alone. I was hoping we could have dinner. But never mind that.”

I bite my lip and wince at the pang of guilt that knots my stomach. I hate lying to my sister. “I’ll be back, Mae. Soon.”

“I know. I can’t wait. Oh! I know you have to go, but Stephen texted to say he’d been trying to reach you. Is everything okay?”

Not at all. “Yup. I’ll call him when I get to my gate.” Time to end this before I say more than I mean to. “It’ll be late when I land, so I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Sure. It was great to see you. I love you.”

“Love you more, Mae. Bye.”

I hang up and drop my head into my hands. Being selfish isn’t easy, but I’ve learned the hard way that it’s easier than giving more than you get back.

I needed one night alone to settle my nerves after a week staying with my parents and I don’t regret taking it.

The bartender delivers my drink as I hang up. I hand him my credit card. “Can I start a tab?”

He takes it. “Sure, you want to see the menu?”

I hesitate and look back at the hostess stand. “How likely is it that there’ll be a cancellation tonight?” I ask.

“Oh, not likely at all.”

I pout and give up. “I’ll take that menu,” I tell him. I’m hungry and the food will taste just the same here as it would at a table.

He takes the card and walks to the register.

I’m starting to relax when a deep voice next to me says, “Excuse me, miss,” followed by a hand on my shoulder.

Annoyed and not in the mood for any bullshit tonight, I cast a withering glance at the trespassing appendage. And promptly swallow the “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” that’s on the tip of my tongue.

Everyone has a weakness and mine happens to be well-formed hands. The one I’m looking at is remarkable—golden brown, nicely veined, neatly trimmed broad nails on long fingers and big enough to cover the entirety of my shoulder.

Well damn.

It’s almost enough to make up for being touched by a stranger.

Almost.

I slip out of his grasp before I turn to face him.

He’s as built, handsome, and well-dressed as his immaculate hand and as confident as his presumptuous approach told me he would be.

Though increasingly rare, men like him are very familiar to me.

I’ve spent most of my life living in their favorite North American hunting grounds—New York and Washington, DC. They look like a dream but are vessels of mayhem and disappointment. I’ve just escaped the clutches of one.

I should dispatch him with an icy glare, but mustering the energy to be bitchy is more work than I want to do tonight.

I smile up at him. “Yes?”

“I couldn’t help overhear you just now. You were trying to get a table, right?” He smiles like he knows it’s hypnotic.

“I was.” I raise an eyebrow and wait for him to say more.

“I have a table for two and my date just canceled.”

I narrow my eyes. “And?” I prod, not sure where this is going.

“I was wondering if you’d like to share my table.”

“Oh. Really?” I give him a once-over, warily taking in his immaculately pressed trousers and dress shirt. “What’s the catch?”

“There isn’t one.” He shrugs. “You need a table. I have a spare seat at mine.”

The reflexive, “No thanks” that should be on the tip of my tongue isn’t.

I booked this hotel for the views and so I could eat at Dogon. I love the chef’s restaurant in New York and had been so disappointed when the hostess turned me away. Why not eat with him?

I look him square in the eye. God, his eyes are dark as midnight. Not even the light’s reflection in them reveals his pupils. “No catch? You’re just being nice?”

He puts his hands in his pockets and leans back in his seat, smiling. “Crazy concept, right?”

Sometimes it feels like one. I don’t reply, but return his smile.

I could do with something nice. He’s not asking me on a date, and it’s not like we’d be alone. How much damage could he do over dinner in a public restaurant?

I brighten my smile and grab my purse. “Okay, yes. I’d love that. What time is your reservation?”

“In about seven minutes. Are you ready?”

I pick up my drink and step off the stool. “Very.”

* * *

Excerpted from To Catch a Sinner by Lucy Wilson Tagoe & Dylan Allen.

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