Hi, my name is Nikita Slater and I'm the International Bestselling author of The Queens series, Fire & Vice series, The Sanctuary series, Driven Hearts series and several standalone novels. I've loved the written word my entire life and am an avid reader, as well as a writer. I live, eat and breathe books and I'm always working on something new!
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I live on the beautiful Canadian prairies with my son and crazy awesome dog. I have an unholy affinity for books (especially dark romance), wine, pets and anything chocolate. Despite some of the darker themes in my books (which are pure fun and fantasy), I am a staunch feminist and advocate of equal rights for all races, genders and non-gender specific persons. When I'm not writing, dreaming about writing or talking about writing, I love to help others discover a love of reading and writing through literacy and social work.

Only the strongest can survive in a hostile world ravaged by a disease that turns humans into primitives.

She is the Desert Wren, a rebel bent on providing safe passage to illegal refugees entering into her Sanctuary city. If she’s caught she’ll be executed, but the price is worth the privilege of doing what she knows is right. Except when she’s finally caught, the sentence isn’t death, it’s her freedom.

It’s the Warlord’s job to weed out the weak and sacrifice them for the good of the Sanctuary. Brutal and autocratic, he is the highest authority. The only threat to his dictatorship is a rebel faction rising up from the slums of his city. When he arrests a rebel leader, the Desert Wren, he sees his redemption. She will help him guide Sanctuary into the future. He just needs to convince his little captive that she’s better off with him than flying free.

What is the price of Sanctuary in a dying world and is it worth the sacrifice?


The Sanctuary Series

The intensity of my rage crashes through my veins. She left me. Without a backward glance, as though our brief time together had no impact. As angry as I was, I feared for her life once I realized she'd gone through the window. Now that I have her back, in my hands, I want to hold her, I want to squeeze her until she can't think of leaving again. Of putting her life in danger. I want to hurt her, crush her under my bare hands. 


This thought pulls me back from the brink of killing her. Death and destruction have been my common friends for so long that I can barely see my way back to civility. As much as I portray the coolly intelligent commander, I am as much a part of this dead world as it is me. Only the strongest survive, and I'm among them. I feel the need to crush and destroy weakness. The woman beneath my grip is a contradiction. An anomaly. She's weak. A wraith in an uncivilized world. Yet she uses her ability to look small and unassuming as a strength, to blend in. She's strong in ways that I don't yet fully comprehend. 


I catch her as she slumps against the wall and lift her up against me. I bury my face in her neck, against her hairline and inhale. She smells of sweat, dirt and freedom. She's like a wild animal, slipping through the bars, refusing to be caged, her need to be free outweighing her common sense.


I won't underestimate her again. She will no longer go unsupervised. She can't be trusted.


I gather her up in my arms and stride down the hall, careful to avoid weak points in the floor. Her strategy was a good one. Lose her tail in an abandoned building. She likely would've run to the top and either tried to leap onto another building or climb her way down. She must be incredibly talented when it comes to climbing. I should have her train my men in her techniques once she settles down.


"But you underestimated me too, little Wren," I murmur as I carry her, striding down the opposite staircase, the one I took up to the third floor to intercept her. I know this building inside out. I know every inch of Sector One. I knew that she would become trapped in the other stairwell and forced through the door onto the third floor. So, though it went against instinct, I'd allowed her to race out of my sight and up the stairs, knowing exactly where she would come out. 


I carry her out into the street. The light from the sun is fading fast, causing a dusky hew across the buildings. Dust swirls in the slight breeze. An officer approaches me, one of the men from checkpoint security.


"Want me to take the prisoner to processing, Commander?" he asks, reaching for her. 


I check the urge to kill the man where he stands, reminding myself that he's only doing his job. I don't like that he's looking at her, proposing to take her away. I tighten my hold. "She will remain in my custody. Have Commander Cruz come to my private quarters with a guard."


I don't wait for his response. I set her in the back of the vehicle and tell the officer to take us to One Church. He nods his head and finally averts his eyes as I climb in beside her, pulling her against my chest. 


As we drive, I consider my behaviour. I'm not acting like myself. I'm being driven by an obsessive need to keep and protect this woman. Her welfare has become more important than any other goal I've had. I know that my thoughts are insane, that my Lieutenants will question me if given the opportunity. But somehow, for some reason, I feel that Taran, Desert Wren, is the key to Sanctuary. I don't understand it. I don't give a fuck if no one else will agree. I just know that something has shifted and I'm helpless in the grip of this feeling.


She must be protected at all costs. And she must never leave my side.


Chapter 17: Diogo