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The Sanctuary Series

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! ​ 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?

2019-11-25 · Romance
Pas assez d’évaluations
154 Chs

Chapter 53: Diogo

Taran doesn't speak again as I take her to the washroom, strip my own clothes off and then take her into the shower. She stands silently while I wash first her, then myself. Cleansing us of dirt and blood. I run my fingers through her hair, untangling the waves and leaving the strands to cling wetly to her body. I'm careful to keep the water away from her bandage as much as I can, tipping her head back so the water streams away from it. I kneel at her feet, washing all the way up each leg, paying attention to each scrape. I keep her in there for several minutes longer than necessary, warming her with the hot water she enjoys so much. I'd noticed the tremors wracking her small body when we were in the jeep, driving back to the city. Her teeth were chattering, despite the warm desert evening and my heavy military jacket.