Thrillers are one of the most popular genres in modern times, but finding a unique angle in such a crowded marketplace is no easy task. Sins of the Father by Peter Andrews is a confident, compulsively readable debut thriller that announces a writer who clearly knows how to write one and, just as importantly, knows how to pace a story. Set against the high-stakes backdrop of Wall Street mergers and Manhattan money, it moves with the kind of momentum that makes you annoyed when real life interrupts your reading.
The novel opens with retired investment banker Ed Dawson returning to his Upper East Side brownstone after a weekend in the Hamptons, before his world ends violently at the hands of an unseen killer. From there, the story shifts to his son Ted, a rising executive at boutique firm Simmons & Taft, who is pulled into the investigation following his father’s brutal murder. What unfolds is a layered mystery that peels back decades of corruption and buried secrets.
The investigation drags in Ted’s estranged sister Emily, his potentially morally compromised boss Martin Richards, a dogged detective named Jeff Robinson, and a cast of Wall Street eccentrics who feel ripped straight from real life. Given the author’s apparent career in finance, they probably are. A line from later in the novel captures the overall mood of the story well, “At the end of the day, blood might be thicker than water, but both can be absorbed by greenbacks.”
One of the novel’s most interesting formal choices is its use of first-person present tense, a decision that immediately gives the book a distinctive feel. Present tense is an unusual choice as it has an undeserved reputation for being confusing to read or gimmicky. Nonetheless, Andrews deploys it naturally and it mostly works beautifully here, creating a sense of real-time urgency that suits the thriller genre well and keeps the reader locked into Ted’s perspective at every turn. It’s a bold choice that makes it easy to be absorbed in the story.
Despite not having a very relatable job, Ted himself is a compelling protagonist, and slowly revealed to be considerably more complicated than he first appears. The Wall Street and finance elements give the book a distinctly interesting dimension that sets it apart from more generic whodunit fare. The insider trading subplot, the financial stuff ticking along in the background, and the firm’s internal politics and jargon lend the story a credibility that genre readers will appreciate. Andrews clearly knows this world, and it shows on every page.
The supporting cast deserves mention too. Detective Robinson is the novel’s moral center, a weathered, instinct-driven investigator, and likewise Martin Richards, Ted’s beleaguered and increasingly suspicious boss, feels like someone you’d really encounter in this setting. Andrews has a good ear for how people in these circles actually talk and carry themselves. Similarly, the book’s pacing is one of its pleasures. Concise chapters create a natural, addictive rhythm—you tell yourself one more, and then another. At slightly over 50,000 words, the book length is short but sweet. Needless to say, there are plenty of twists and misdirections along the way.
On the craft side, the book is generally well-edited and the prose itself is clean and confident throughout, with a dry wit running beneath the surface that keeps the tone from ever becoming too heavy. Andrews writes dialogue particularly well. Conversations feel like something you could overhear without being shapeless. The characters feel credible, revealing themselves through what they choose not to say as much as what they do, “Detective Robinson knows exactly who killed Ed Dawson. The problem is he’ll never be able to prove it.” I noticed a couple of minor typos, but nothing that disrupts the reading experience, a small caveat for what is otherwise a polished and professional production.
If there are areas where the novel has room to grow, they’re relatively small in the context of an enjoyable debut. Ted and Emily’s psychological arc could benefit from slightly more visible internal turbulence. They are almost unbelievably composed at points, and their dialogue feels a bit wooden given their father was just murdered and everything going on. Also though the book is very competently written, sometimes it feels somewhat lacking in description.
Lastly, though the tense generally works, it’s confusing whether Ted is narrating the story to the reader or just experiencing it directly, and the occasional POV changes don’t help that. Neither does the “one year later” epilogue, which feels a bit tacked on. That said, these are just small quibbles of a reader who wanted more of a good thing, and the main twist is a very good one you will never see coming.
In sum, Sins of the Father is a fun, fast, twisty thriller that delivers on its premise and leaves you wanting more. Andrews has a natural instinct for when to accelerate and when to let a scene breathe. It is, ultimately, exactly what a thriller should do. Confidently executed and commercially accessible, it marks an impressive debut that signals even stronger work to come. Above all, it proves there’s still room in this crowded genre.
Final verdict: For fans of Harlan Coben, Jeneva Rose, and Paul Cleave, this book belongs on all thriller fan’s TBRs. A slick, fast-paced read with a memorably chilling final act, it’s the kind of page-turner that you wish would be adapted so you can watch the movie after finishing it.
You can get your copy of Sins of the Father here!
