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

Taran laughs and reaches for her clothes. She holds the torn pants up and gives me a mock frown. She doesn't bother actually speaking though, since we both know I live to get her naked as fast as humanly possible, which usually ends in the sacrifice of her wardrobe.


I drag my pants on as Taran forgoes hers in favour of her shirt, buttoning it up the front. When we're both half-dressed we walk to the baby's room together. By the time we get there he's throwing a fit bigger than his little lungs have the capacity for, his face screwed up and red, his fists waving in front of him, his blanket kicked away.


Chapter 144: Diogo