Nick Haskins is here to tell us about his Dark Waters series, Black & African American mystery, thriller & suspense fiction.
Read on for details...
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Black & African American Mystery, Thriller & Suspense Fiction
Date Published: 06-06-2023
Publisher: KCIN Entertainment Group, LLC
Books 1 & 2 (Book 3 releases September 8, 2026.)
The Dark Waters series follows the rise and fall of one of Philadelphia's most powerful families.
Judge Keenan Waters and his family have spent decades building a legacy of power, influence, and respect. But behind the perfect public image lie buried secrets, betrayal, and deadly consequences that threaten to destroy everything they've built.
As loyalties are tested and relationships crumble, the Waters family is pushed closer to the edge of ruin. With shocking twists and intense family drama, the Dark Waters series keeps the readers turning pages until the very end.
Perfect for fans of Black & African American Mystery, Thriller & Suspense Fiction, the first two books are available now, with the shocking conclusion, Dark Waters 3, arriving September 8, 2026.
About the Author
Nick Haskins is the author of the Dark Waters series, as well as novels She's Obsessed, Betrayed, My Husband's Wife, and On the Edge of Heat.
Known for his suspenseful storytelling and unforgettable characters, Haskins has spent more than a decade building a catalog of contemporary drama and suspense that has attracted readers across the United States, Canada, the United Kingdom, and Australia.
Born and raised in Toledo, Ohio, where he still resides, Haskins began his publishing career in 2011 and has remained committed to independently producing professional, reader-focused books. In addition to writing novels, he is creating film and visual media projects based on his work.
Haskins continues to connect with readers while developing new stories to expand his publishing catalog.
James Rosenberg is here to tell us about The Ties That Bind, The Legacy of Lies Legal Thriller #1, thriller.
There's also a great giveaway.
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The Ties that Bind
James Rosenberg
(The Legacy of Lies Legal Thriller, #1)
Publication date: July 27th 2026
Genres: Adult, Thriller
Some families build empires. Others bury secrets beneath them.
Bill Simon thought marrying Sharon Green meant entering a powerful legal dynasty and finally proving he belonged. Fresh from his honeymoon and eager to succeed at his new firm, Green & DeWitt, Bill is handed a complex real estate transaction tied to the influential Green family empire.
What begins as routine due diligence quickly spirals into something far more dangerous.
Hidden behind layers of shell companies, offshore accounts, and falsified property records, Bill uncovers connections to cartel money, political corruption, and a network of powerful men determined to keep their secrets buried. The deeper he digs, the more he realizes the conspiracy may reach directly into his father-in-law’s inner circle—and possibly into his own marriage.
As Bill digs deeper, Sharon Green fights to protect her family’s public image while uncovering other sinister connections between her family and the drug cartel. As others question the legitimacy of her father’s enterprises, she tries to find answers about the empire she was born into.
As they uncover disturbing connections between her father and the Mexican drug lord,Sharon and Bill are trapped between loyalty and truth, ambition and survival.
And in a world where power protects its own, exposing the truth could cost them everything.
The heat wafted above the scrubland. Three trucks waited in line, engines idling low in the darkness.
Each truck had a driver and one passenger, and together their primary responsibility was to get the trucks over the border less than thirty miles away.
Rafa Medina kicked at the dried ground as he waited for confirmation to move. They were still on schedule, but barely.
Luis Cortes sat in the passenger seat of the second truck, window cracked. A folded manifest lay on his lap. Medina tapped his window twice. Luis glanced over and gave a short nod.
The third truck’s driver shifted in his seat. Medina caught the movement and shook his head once. He could accept fear. Panic only caused mistakes.
Medina felt the vibration in his pocket. The signal, at last. He raised his hand.
As the trucks shifted into gear, the whine of their engines intensified. The first truck rolled forward, followed by the second, and then the third. They stayed in tight formation as they turned onto the paved road heading north.
Medina jogged to his Jeep, climbed in, and maneuvered his vehicle in behind them.
He considered moving to the front of the line to take control, but before he could decide, gunfire echoed from the brush to his right. The lead truck swerved, glass spraying off to its side.
The truck regained its footing, tires screaming, as it came out of its fishtail.
The second shot came from the opposite side of the road, from cover behind a grouping of bushes.
The muzzle flashes were sequenced and controlled. Now was not the time for panic. He knew immediately it was a rival crew, one that had studied the route and wanted it.
The first truck accelerated, pushing past the shots.
When a new round of shots burst from the right, the second truck was directly in front of it and caught a barrage of automatic fire in the passenger side door.
As the bullets tore through the truck, Luis jerked sideways, his body snapping against the window as glass exploded outward. The driver screamed and hit the gas. The truck lurched forward, out of the danger zone.
As the trucks moved ahead, Medina pulled out his Glock and aimed toward the brush where he had spotted the muzzle flashes. From his slightly elevated position, he fired twice, forcing the shooters back. They withdrew, retreating into the darkness.
Their message had been delivered.
Medina didn’t chase. The trucks came first.
He ran to the second truck. Blood was everywhere.
The driver was shaking, hands locked on the wheel, eyes wide. Medina yanked the door open and pulled him out.
“We have ten minutes. Your truck won’t make it to the border. Transfer the cargo. I’ll take care of Luis.”
The driver nodded.
Medina climbed into the cab. Luis’s eyes were open, unfocused. He checked for a pulse. There was none. This simplified matters.
Medina scampered to the other side of the truck and grabbed Luis under the arms, dragging him from the cab.
Ten minutes. That was all they had.
He pulled the body into the brush. He worked with his hands and a tire iron he grabbed from the back of the truck, digging quickly, ignoring the ache in his shoulders.
Medina lowered the body into the ground, then shoveled dirt to cover it. The land closed over the shape easily, swallowing it. He didn’t mark the grave and offered no words.
He crossed himself and then wiped his hands on his pants.
The damaged truck was next. Medina drove it behind a clump of bushes. No one would notice it for months. No one would care.
This was no man’s land.
The other trucks waited.
Medina jogged back to the road and waved the trucks forward. They didn’t hesitate. The second truck’s payload had already been transferred.
Medina climbed back into his vehicle and pulled in behind them.
The convoy moved north, engines steady.
Dust flew from their tires and then settled behind them.
Author Bio:
James Rosenberg is a 3rd generation trial attorney with plenty of stories to tell.
Inspired not only by the courtroom stories his father and grandfather used to tell
him when he was a child, but also by the wild adventures he’s encountered through
his own experience as a lawyer. James is fascinated by the intricate, interpersonal
dynamics of every trial he’s endured. Whether it’s the raw emotion on display in
court, the tension in the air that builds until someone wins, or the impact that a
case’s decision has on the parties involved, James is always paying attention and
keeping tabs on what’s happening.
In his debut novel, “Legal Reserves”, James flexes his creative muscle outside of the
courtroom to share his stories, with a fictional twist, through the eyes of archetypes
he knows well.
A native of Pittsburgh and a graduate of Taylor Allderdice High School and the
University of Pittsburgh School of Law, James has been a trial attorney in Pittsburgh
for almost 30 years. He started writing legal thrillers as a stress reducer and finds
this creative outlet to be a fun and meaningful diversion from his day job.
When he’s not trying cases, he’s either dreaming up his next book idea, spending
time with his wife and three kids, or both.
To contact James email Rosenberg@marcus-shapira.com or follow him on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/RosenbergWrites/
Check out his website: www.JamesRosenbergAuthor.com
Please become part of my email list and get updates about my latest launches. https://subscribepage.io/fcVT4h
‘Pemi Aguda is here to tell us about One Leg on Earth, horror, occult fiction, thriller.
There's also a great giveaway.
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One Leg on Earth
‘Pemi Aguda
Publication date: May 5th 2026
Genres: Adult, Horror, Occult Fiction, Thriller
From the author of the National Book Award finalist Ghostroots, a debut novel that thrills with its eerie mix of folklore and history.
Something is haunting the pregnant women of Lagos. Across the city, they are walking into water . . . and drowning.
Twenty-three-year-old Yosoye arrives in Lagos ready to start her life. Working for a slick architectural firm, she finds a city of adventure and opportunity. Her new world is one of fancy gallery openings, glamorous friends, and all the shiny potential of the future, encapsulated in projects like Omi City, the ultra-luxury development her company is building, a symbol of the dawn of a brighter Lagos.
But Yosoye’s idyllic vision of Lagos soon begins to seem naive, and its darker, stranger layers trouble her. Something is not right about Omi City, and as construction speeds ahead, stories of strange deaths in the city’s open waters reach a fever pitch. And then, after a chance encounter, Yosoye discovers she is pregnant . . . a revelation which puts her on a collision course with an inexplicable force that is as seductive as it is deadly. A masterwork by a writer hailed as “an astonishing talent” (Lauren Groff), One Leg on Earth is an ambitious novel like no other: a coming-of-age story, an uncanny exploration of motherhood, and a chilling vision of the dark side of progress.
MIRIAM AIKI PRAYED FOR THE FRUIT OF THE WOMB for thirteen years. Thirteen years of chafed knees: blood and shredded skin staining church altars, shrine altars, her bedside rug, her mother-in-law’s living room tiles. Thirteen years begging for a miracle, for strength, for patience. Her cries were answered. At thirty-eight, her womb was unfurling its first bloody fruit.
Now, in the passenger seat of her husband’s car, she smiled at her taut six-month belly. An ugly joy stirred within her. Ugly because it sat heavy on top of her growing baby, nausea amassing saliva in her mouth. But mothers who’d hunted long for that title knew that this unpleasantness was welcome, embraced.
Miriam smoothed a hand over her lace buba. She smiled at her husband, Victor, who frowned at the standstill traffic. They were running late for his cousin’s wedding and hadn’t moved in twenty minutes. His knuckles tapped an agitated beat on the steering wheel along to soft jazz playing on the radio. Past her husband’s head, the blue BRT bus keeping them in merciful shadow advertised a “We Are Lagos” music concert. Celebrating our oneness together! Miriam turned her beaming face to her window, gap-tooth a narrow darkness in an otherwise white smile.
These shining eyes, these stretched lips, these deep dimples. The people of Third Mainland Bridge stuck in traffic with Miriam would always remember the fizzy happiness in these details.
Miriam’s bliss bubbled up, feathering her insides, shimmering around her baby, erupting from her throat in a giggle—a curious misplaced sound in that car.
Victor turned to her, startled. His hand brushed her thigh, her rounded belly.
“Are you okay?”
Miriam giggled again. Her head slid down the leather headrest, neck tilting backward for more happiness to escape, clavicle bared to her husband’s confused gaze. This frothing joy within Miriam, she wanted to warble it out, to dance through it, until she and her baby were heady with the fervor of it.
She pushed the passenger door open. Stepped out. Victor sat there, blinking in shock for what would later seem like two lifetimes. The humid air crowded in to displace cool air-conditioning. He clicked the radio off, leaned toward the open mouth of the door.
“Miriam? What are you doing?”
Miriam kicked her sandals off, flung the fuchsia-pink slingbacks behind her. One heel struck the car’s bonnet, leaving a silver chink. She wound between the bridge’s stalled vehicles: engines turned off; gears stuck in neutral. She skipped and spun and squealed. Even in the midst of that sweltering Lagos day of thumping car music and raucous engines and the truck that honked at her for dancing too close, Miriam’s squeal stood out, a siren.
Passengers lowered their half-eaten Pure Bliss wafers and leaned out of windows to watch this odd but entertaining episode. Drivers, stretching their legs in small huddles, paused their whining—about traffic and heat and wives and money and that new backache that made their worlds flush dark when they bent at the wrong angle. All necks craned toward Miriam. Hawkers hitched boxes higher and nudged each other to behold the spirited pregnant woman.
Miriam swayed, shoulders shaking with laughter at a joke nobody else could hear. Her legs kicked. Hands stretched, twirling as if being spun about. What joy! What joy!
Victor leaned on the horn. His feet hit tar, finally going after her. Had she gone mad? He yelled her name, using the tone his father wielded on his mother, demanding Miriam return to the car immediately.
But Miriam didn’t want to get back in the car. She wanted to dance, to be free, to glide forward with the happiness surging from her womb, her baby. Her husband navigated between fascinated watchers. He shouted, “Miriam! Miriam! Miriam!” But by the time he got to the railings, she had launched herself off Third Mainland Bridge, laughing and screeching into the lagoon below, belly-first, like a child jumping into the arms of a beloved parent.
Author Bio:
Pemi Aguda is a Nigerian writer known for her short stories and debut collection Ghostroots (2024). Her work often explores complex themes surrounding motherhood, identity, and the supernatural. Ghostroots, which includes previously published stories such as "Breastmilk" and "The Hollow", was a finalist for the 2024 National Book Award for Fiction and received critical acclaim for its unifying themes and narrative cohesion.
Aguda's stories have been widely recognized, earning multiple accolades, including an O'Henry Award in 2022 for "Breastmilk" and again in 2023 for "The Hollow". Additionally, "Breastmilk" was shortlisted for the 2024 Caine Prize for African Writing. Her forthcoming novel, The Suicide Mothers, which won the 2020 Deborah Rogers Foundation Award, is slated for release in 2025.
Eileen Sheehan is here to tell us about Night Times Trilogy, paranormal vampire romance thrillers.
There's also a great giveaway.
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The darkest hour is only the beginning in the world of
shadows.
Night Times Book One
Night Times Trilogy 1
by Eileen Sheehan
Genre: Paranormal Vampire Romance Thriller
For two hundred years, Ethan has haunted the shadows,
carrying the heartbreak of losing Judith, the wife he loved before he was
unwillingly turned into a vampire.
When he meets Arabella at a costume party, he's stunned by
the similarities she shares with Judith. As their connection deepens, Ethan
becomes convinced that Arabella is Judith reborn. But with her returning
memories come dangerous secrets—knowledge from a centuries-old vampire-hunting
society that could threaten the existence of every vampire alive.
Now, hunted by both a ruthless Vampire League and relentless
vampire hunters, Ethan and Arabella find themselves caught in a deadly struggle
between love, loyalty, and survival. As enemies close in and the past refuses
to stay buried, Ethan must choose between losing Arabella forever or offering
her the immortality that was forced upon him.
Night Times (Book
One) begins a captivating vampire romance thriller trilogy that is
filled with, forbidden love, deadly secrets, and a passion that defies time
itself.
What readers are
saying:
“For fans of supernatural
thrillers involving vampires, Night Times has got everything they crave... Sheehan
has created yet another immersive fantastical world full of vampires, witches,
and monster hunters. The book is fast-paced, and since I was enjoying it so
much, the pages just flew by….You're going to love this!”
“… Sheehan
doesn’t just focus on romance. She digs into what love and trust really mean
when everything’s on the line. There’s also a raw look at what it means for a
vampire to lose their humanity—how turning immortal tears you away from who you
used to be, and from people you once knew. Immortality in this story isn’t just
sparkling and forever-young; it comes with a price: isolation, loss, and
sometimes the fading of your own sense of self. Still, there’s a flip side—it
can mean never-ending love and the fierce desire to protect…… If you’re in the mood for a
supernatural drama that goes beyond the usual tropes—one that really leans into
the pain, the memories, and the kind of love that won’t quit—this book is
definitely worth your time.”
The
rain came down in silver threads and turned the road to black glass on the
night that Ethan’s reality was changed forever.
He
remembered that more clearly than he remembered his own face from that time.
Faces changed in memory. They were smoothed by years and grief until they
became something like paintings. But weather remained exact. The smell of wet
earth. The sting of cold through wool. The way the world looked when it was
nearly dark and every lamp in the distance seemed to float like a warning.
He
had been running then from the thing that had already happened to him.
He
had not yet learned that becoming a vampire did not feel like entering a new
life. It felt like being torn from the old one with enough violence to leave a
permanent shape in the soul. At first there had been only pain, then thirst,
then a terrifying clarity that came with the hunger. He had not completely
grasped what he was but that realization was soon to come.
And
because he had understood that, he had run.
He
stood now beneath the branches of the elm at the edge of the lane with the rain
slipping through the leaves onto his face while he watched the light in his own
house glow through the windows.
Home. The word struck him
with unbearable force.
Inside,
his wife and love of his life, Judith, would be setting down her sewing and
folding the blanket over the arm of the chair. She would be waiting for him,
although she might pretend not to be. She always pretended not to wait, as if
waiting was too revealing a sort of love. But Ethan had always known. He had
known by the way that she paused when she heard his footstep and by the way
that she turned before he spoke while already smiling.
He’d
spent three hours pacing the woods beyond the property line while fighting his
own body as if it was a wild animal. His mouth still burned. His throat ached
with a need so vast that it felt like a second heart beating where his was
supposed to be. He had torn at his own cuff, bitten the inside of his mouth
until it bled, and shoved his hands into the mud to keep from running back to
the house.
The
problem was that he could still smell her….
…“Stay
where you are,” he gruffly ordered.
Her
mouth slightly parted with fear. “You’re frightening me.”
He
could not bear that. Not from her.
The
room wavered at the edge of his vision. Hunger rose up in him with a vicious,
animal certainty. And for one impossible instant he saw her as prey - not
Judith, not wife, not the woman who had braided ribbons into her hair and
fallen asleep reading beside the fire, but a pulse of life that he could take
with one movement.
He
stumbled backward.
Judith’s
expression changed to alarm as she exclaimed, “Ethan!”
“No!”
he bellowed. The word came out raw.
The
flame shivered as she set the candle down too quickly and took a step toward
him. “Tell me what happened.”
He
violently shook his head. The taste of his own blood filled his mouth again,
although he knew there was no wound there now. “You must not come near me.”…
…When
Judith finally spoke, her voice was broken but steady. “Ethan.”
He
closed his eyes. “Yes?”
Her
voice trembled as she said, “Do not disappear from my life forever.”
That
was the moment when he nearly broke. He put one hand on the doorframe to steady
himself. When he spoke, his voice was almost gone. “I will try not to.”
Then
he stepped out into the rain and left the house before the dawn could find him.
He
never forgot the sound of the door closing behind him. He never forgot the way
that Judith had stood in the light, frightened and loving and still reaching
for him. And for the centuries that followed, through blood, hunger, survival,
and loneliness so deep that it became a second skin, he carried one unbearable
truth with him - the night he abandoned Judith, he had not yet understood that
immortality was not the curse.
The
curse was living long enough to remember the exact shape of the love that you
were forced to leave behind.
Night Times Book Two
Night Times Trilogy 2
Arabella was supposed
to be dead.
After faking her death to escape the vampires who want her
gone, Arabella and Ethan disappear into Las Vegas, hoping to build a life free
from fear, secrets, and bloodshed.
For six months, they succeed.
Then Olive discovers the truth.
Obsessed with Ethan and unwilling to accept his love for
another woman, Olive sets out to destroy everything they've built. As jealousy
turns to vengeance, Ethan and Arabella are thrust into a nightmare that will
change them forever.
Filled with
danger, betrayal, suspense, and immortal love, Night Times: Book Two is a
gripping paranormal romance about how far people will go for love—and how
deadly obsession can become.
Arabella survived
death, but immortality comes with a price.
As she learns to embrace life as a vampire under Ethan's
guidance, the memories of her torture and murder refuse to fade. While vampire
society struggles to accept her return, Arabella secretly plots revenge against
the vampires responsible for her suffering—including the woman who wanted her
dead.
One by one, her enemies begin to disappear.
As fear spreads through the vampire community and suspicion
grows, Arabella must balance her thirst for vengeance with the future she's
building alongside Ethan. But some wounds can only heal in darkness, and some
debts can only be paid in blood.
Night Times: Book
Three is a dark paranormal romance filled with vengeance, passion,
secrets, and a love strong enough to survive death.
Eileen Sheehan is an Internationally published, Best Selling
and Award-Winning author of paranormal romance thrillers & horror for the
mature adult. A professional and full-time spiritual advisor and holistic
practitioner for over 30 years, the majority of her 76+ novels feature the
paranormal, but some are novels about people in love, and a very few are
self-help. Eileen incorporates experiences through the years along with her
imagination to provide the best believable and entertaining read possible. As
the years progressed, so has her writing style. Although she still includes
romance and strives for a happily ever after ending, her stories tend to have
more mystery, thrills, and a touch of horror in them.
A former busy working mother (who is now a laid-back
grandmother), Eileen understands the value of time. She makes it a point to
write novels that are able to be enjoyed in one or two evenings.
Three years on, she is rebuilding her life, working for a private security
outfit.
But she’s never forgiven the way she was dumped by MI5. One day she’ll discover
the truth about Brook and what was really going on.
Now, though, it’s clear that Mel’s not the only one still holding a grudge.
Suddenly everybody seems to want her dead. But why?
On the run from MI5, is there anyone Mel
can trust to help her uncover the past?
The door opens noisily, bringing with it a gust of
chilly air. I turn on my stool, expecting to see Adam. I’m formulating some
sort of suitably sarcastic barb. It’s not Adam, however. Instead, two men have
entered. Strangers. Adam once said he found it odd that so many people he
didn’t know came to The Crown but the place is his choice and I don’t come here
so often that I’m going to know all the regulars. I look away from the new
arrivals but immediately feel a tap on my shoulder. I’m never happy when strange
men think they have the right to touch me and I tense, my hand gripping the
whiskey glass slightly more tightly.
Still, it isn’t the time and place to make
a scene so I relax again and look at the man who’s tapped me on the shoulder.
He’s about forty, similar height to me, dark suit and tie, blond hair trimmed
to within an inch of its life, and he’s holding a warrant card. I may not know
all the regulars of The Crown but I thought I knew all the local coppers. There
aren’t many and I’ve had dealings with most of them during the past year, one
way or another. This guy is not an East Hampshire plod though. Behind him and
to one side, his colleague, younger, bigger, also fair-haired, is staring at me
with tight little eyes. A bully’s eyes. He looks like he’s itching for a fight.
In other circumstances, I might have been happy to oblige but Kaylee had
clearly been round the bar with a cloth and cleanser before opening and I
wouldn’t want to bloody her handiwork. Nor would the subsequent paperwork have
appealed.
Detective Sergeant Aaron Walcott, I read on
the warrant card. Metropolitan Police. He’s off his patch. He says nothing so I
say nothing right back at him. It’s definitely up to Walcott to start the
conversational ball rolling so I pick up my glass and drain it. I don’t want to
waste any bourbon if this plays out as I’m beginning to think it might.
Eventually he speaks. Maybe he was
rehearsing his lines. ‘Miss Melanie Marie Milano?’ he says.
Steve
Sheppard was born and grew up in Surrey before moving to Buckinghamshire and
then to Oxfordshire, where he spent a quarter of a century living in an
idiosyncratic village that was the affectionate inspiration for his fourth
book, Lazytown. He now lives
in Hampshire. He spent forty years starting to write books but not finishing
them, until belatedly realising that the key is not to give up. The other thing
he has since learned is that he should have become a celebrity before writing a
book, as this would have made selling it much easier.
False Connections is Steve’s fifth book,
but the first one written as a straight thriller and not primarily as a comedy,
although it does contain humour. He hopes it will be the first of a series
featuring feisty, funny but flawed ex-MI5 agent, Mel Milano. He also has three
spy thrillers with laughs to his name, all published by Claret Press: A Very Important Teapot (2019),
set in Australia, Bored to Death in
the Baltics (2021), not set in Australia, and Poor Table Manners (2024), which takes place in Cape
Town. These feature an initially fairly
hapless hero, Dawson, and a considerably less hapless heroine, Lucy, together
with varied supporting casts, most of whom are not who they claim to be.
Steve’s fourth book is an out-and-out comedy-murder-mystery, Lazytown (2025).
