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

I wake up still wrapped tightly in Diogo's embrace. His arms are so tight around me that, at first, I think he must be awake. But as I turn my head to look at him I realize he's still deeply asleep. His hands are big and warm against the bare skin of my arms and his breath is coming out in deep, even gusts, tickling the hair on top of my head. 


I watch his face, tracing the hard lines with my gaze. We lay that way for long enough that the sunlight marks a path across the floor. I think it must be late afternoon, though I'm not sure. I decide that I've waited long enough for him to wake up, and he's not showing signs of doing that any time soon. I gently lift his arm, looking for any kind of response. When none comes, I slide out from under his grip and set his arm back down. As I crawl off the bed a slight frown mars his brow. I hold my breath, waiting for him to wake up, but he only rolls onto his back and throws an arm across his eyes. 


Chapter 26: Taran