- Oct 18, 2023

'The War of Lost Hearts' series - Carissa Broadbent

Daughter of No Worlds (#1)

A former slave fighting for justice. A reclusive warrior who no longer believes it exists. And a dark magic that will entangle their fates.

Ripped from a forgotten homeland as a child, Tisaanah learned how to survive with nothing but a sharp wit and a touch of magic. But the night she tries to buy her freedom, she barely escapes with her life.

Desperate to save the best friend she left behind, Tisaanah journeys to the Orders, the most powerful organizations of magic Wielders in the world. But to join their ranks, she must complete an apprenticeship with Maxantarius Farlione, a handsome and reclusive fire wielder who despises the Orders.

The Orders’ intentions are cryptic, and Tisaanah must prove herself under the threat of looming war. But even more dangerous are her growing feelings for Maxantarius. The bloody past he wants to forget may be the key to her future… or the downfall of them both.

But Tisaanah will stop at nothing to save those she abandoned. Even if it means gambling in the Orders’ deadly games. Even if it means sacrificing her heart.

Even if it means wielding death itself.

“I figured you should have something both beautiful and functional, like you.” He said it so quickly that it almost didn’t register. I whipped my head around to look at him.

“Max,” I breathed, touching my heart with exaggerated awe, “you think I’m functional?”

A dancing smile glinted in his eyes. “I think,” he said, “that you are breathtakingly functional.”

My fingertips brushed those butterfly wings as I swept my eyes over him — over the muscle twitching in his throat, over the twist at the corners of his mouth, the unruly wave of the strand of hair that fell across his forehead.

Honestly? I thought he was breathtakingly functional too. He was the most breathtakingly functional thing I had ever seen.

Children of Fallen Gods (#2)

Home. The word caught and settled, deep in my chest. But home wasn’t Korvius, or the Towers, or even a cottage in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by flowers.

Home was a pair of mismatched eyes, an accented voice, and a heartbeat that followed the same cadence as mine. And I was so, so homesick.

Mother of Death and Dawn (#3)

Before I could stop myself, my hand reached for hers and enveloped her fingers in mine. Her eyes met mine, spearing me straight through my soul.

“One word,” I said, my voice rough. “One word and I stay.”

Even if it was the selfish thing, like Brayan had said. Even if it put her further at risk. I wanted any stupid, self-indulgent excuse to stay. I asked for one word, and she gave it to me.