A biography for Anne Bishophasn’t been written yet.
“Frustration fills his golden eyes. "What Queen? Who is coming?""The living myth," I whisper. "Dreams made flesh."His shock is replaced instantly by a fierce hunger. "You're sure?"The room is a swirling mist. He's the only thing still in sharp focus. He's the only thing I need. "I saw her in the tangled web, Daemon. I saw her.”
“You weren't afraid of me when I was Wolf," he said. "Why are you afraid of Nathan?""He's got big feet!""What?"An insulted-sounding arrroooo came from the other side of the door, a reminder that Wolves also had big ears.”
“I'm not sure I could write a straight urban fantasy any more than I could write a straight contemporary story. I would end up being intimidated by all the small details.”
“She was the most painful, most glorious dance of his life”
“Werewolves and Arabians. It's like chocolate and peanut butter - a delicious combination.”
“Why?"He stopped pacing and looked at her as if she'd just asked him to count every leaf on every tree in the Old Place. "Because... you're you.”
“For now, he and Meg were going to have the adventure of seeing a new place and having a new experience. Together.He wasn't human. Would never be human. And Meg didn't expect him to be. But feeling her hand in his, Simon thought maybe he could learn to be human enough.”
“...you look the truth in the face - not the truth that has fangs and fur but the hard truth about yourself, that you're just as dangerous as the beings the rest of the people fear but you can't afford to be as honest about it. You can't tell those people that you'll make deals with what they fear in order to keep them sage from the monsters who look just like them.”
“Do you always ask me the same questions you ask him?""It depends on whether or not I get an answer.”