Ismael Manzano resides in the Bronx with his wonderful wife (also a published writer) and his amazing son. He's a fan of history -- specifically Roman and Tudor England -- and loves all forms of fantasy and science fiction.
His short fiction has been accepted for publication at Grey Matter and This Dark Matter. His Urban Fantasy novel, Soulless (Book one of the Soul Broker Series) was released March 08th 2016 by Fantasy Works Publishing.
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About the Book
The devil’s not the only one buying souls; both sides need them to fight their war, and both have something to offer in return. Nearly anything is possible if you're the type of soul they're looking for. Charlotte Furio learns this the hard way, when a spirited and mysterious woman named Trisha follows her home one night and offers her ailing father a simple choice: a healthy body for his immortal soul.
His decision introduces Charlotte to the world of soul brokering, and Charlotte is not only drawn to it, but finds she has a knack for it. Having lived the last decade of her life with only one purpose—to care for her increasingly disabled father—Charlotte sees this as her chance to give direction and meaning to her own life, and the lives of others. To help them, as she had helped her father.
Her mission is quickly derailed when Charlotte is framed for the murder of one of the brokers' leaders. Where she once had only one purpose, now Charlotte has two—get her father's soul back, and find a way to prove her innocence before it's too late.
Keep reading for an excerpt:
I walked around the car so I could jump into the passenger's seat, waited for the crowd to thin and calmly—barely holding onto my senses—asked for the knapsack. It weighed nothing, but when I opened it, I found a parchment resting peacefully and eagerly inside of it. The full moon was out, and the sky was cloudless and unobtrusive, so when the pale, silvery light touched the papyrus, it was not reflected but enhanced. Trisha started the engine, and put the convertible’s top up to block the moonlight, then adjusted her mirror. Her face glowed nearly as bright as the papyrus.
The windows were tinted so I felt safe removing the parchment completely from the bag. The second my hand touched it, I felt a rush of something inexplicable, like a jolt of pleasurable lightning traipsing through my nerves and extending outward to the world at large. At first, I thought Trisha had pulled out a taser gun and had shocked me, but nothing hurt. I closed my eyes and allowed myself to enjoy the strangeness of the sensation. Shivers passed through me randomly, tingles that lit my skin. Without knowing how, I knew those shivers were my body's reaction to people passing alongside the car. It was as if I was connected to the air through which they moved. I heard the wind pushing through the desiccated leaves still clinging to their branches, and it sounded like water rushing around a brook. The smells of the city, even through the confinement of the car, assailed my nostrils as if someone had bottled it up and threw it—concentrated—into my lap.