Novel Bishop Arts Novels & Stories

I’d seen some of the girls he’d been with in high school and they were always beautiful girls who were able to do a whole lot more than I could. “Kel please don’t sell yourself short again for the 100th time. Dress in what I say and I will bring some things to freshen you up with.” I finally agreed to get Reese to calm down and headed home. The high priestess house was built into the cliffs and was higher up than the larger alpha house

“To strengthen your hold over the city? To finish what you started with the Serpents?” Bishop shook his head slowly, eyes flicking nervously over the void beneath him. “No. Something else. Something bigger.” Riven’s heartbeat stuttered. “Bigger? What the hell could be bigger than trying to bend the city—and the god itself—to your will?” Bishop’s grin widened. “You don’t understand yet. You’re too caught up in your little morality, your little hero complex. That artefact? It’s older than your Crown. It’s older than this city, older than any power you’ve ever faced. It’s a shard of… everything. And right now… it’s mine.”

The bishop, reading through one of them, approached Arthur. “These are not just musings, Arthur,” the bishop said. “They are medicine.” He suggested turning the reflections into a devotional series for the parish newsletter. Arthur hesitated but agreed. Soon, people were quoting his lines during Sunday gatherings, unaware they were reading the work of the once-disgraced priest they had once feared or judged. As the months passed, Arthur brought Isabella to see the library. Her eyes lit up with wonder as she ran her fingers across the edges of golden-inked texts and listened to the soft murmurs of students reading aloud.

Bishop explained. "Cut the mushy crap and get on with it." One of the brothers yelled out. Bishop gave them a death glare. "I moved here to get to know my dad's club. And to be with you. This may be moving at the speed of lighting, but when you know, you know." He opened the box. Inside was a women's Property Of Bishop cut. Paris gasped. Then she reached over to touch it. He took it out of the box then handed to box to someone.

Aurelia, Tang Sai, and Ayasu stared at the great cathedral. They had temples back home, but this mountain of stone and glass was a marvel of architecture. The trio donned religious robes and slipped past the guards with ease. Aurelia scowled at the death moth banners. Why would the bishop continue to worship the living darkness? The inside was almost a replica of Carmen's temple on the island, except it smelled better. People lined the pews with their heads bowed in prayer and said nothing to the heroic trio. They padded toward the rear entrance. They were ten feet away when the bishop entered the main chamber. He stood behind the twisted Pulpit and cleared his throat.

“Our flight leaves in three hours.” “I just need one cup of coffee to feel human again,” she said and grabbed a cup from the cupboard. “Trust me, I needed three after the night I had with Bishop.” Kaelis turned to look at her after she filled her cup. “I’m not sure I want to know.” Arya huffed out a laugh. “Bishop’s not one for sweet and romantic, but last night, it was like he was fucking all his rage and anger out.” “I wonder if that’s a thing with them. Saint wasn’t exactly gentle either.”

I motored out of the parking lot and let the road wash the day away, just running up and down the coast for a couple of hours before heading back into town. I knew the fatigue was coming, but I hadn't really felt it yet as I drove up to the warehouse. The roar of my Indian's motor quieted, replaced by the slow tink-tinking of Bishop's chisel, who was working on his masterpiece again. He looked over his shoulder at me as I walked in and pulled off my helmet. "One of these days I'm gonna pour glue into the tank of that thing, Taylor." "Love you, too, Bish." "Uh-huh." He went back to his piece of marble. He'd been working on that thing for years, and only made minimal progress in the time I'd k

It seems fitting that the good people of Greten, the Church, the Crown experience it too. I wish it devastates this land to its core, be it disease or curse. I wish the smell of blood and smoke get engraved in their minds as it is in mine, I wish the taste of despair and helplessness lingers in their mouth as it did in mine, as it still does. “Let us not engage in conversation that would end terribly.” I shake my head at the Bishop, disgusted mirth in my voice “What would you do if I refuse?” Blood rushes to the Bishop’s face “You shall be executed by the order of the Crown, in the name of the Goddess!”

A look of horror spread across Andrea's face "Captain I'm afraid we can't let this insult stand!" Bishop slammed his fist into the table sneering at Christopher. 'This is turning out better then I had hoped for! His response to our provocation's is better then I'd ever imagined! Helenfel's laws stop people from attacking others but there's nothing wrong with defending ourselves!' Bishop gave himself a mental pat on the back for how this little show was playing out better then even he'd anticipated. "W-Wait! Bishop don't!" Andrea cried out. As Bishop and the rest of her platoon rose to their feet.

She smiled down reassuringly. "Good afternoon Mrs. Sweeny and Immaculata," she greeted them with affected friendliness, "won't you come in. His Grace is expecting you." They dipped their fingers in the small holy water font just inside the doorway and performed the mechanical ritual of blessing themselves, flicking their hands from forehead to heart, then to left and to right shoulder, before following the elegantly clad housekeeper down the corridor. As they had expected, the interior of the striking building, known to some as the Bishop's "palace", was virtually a museum of church art and ritual, crammed with religious pictures and marble statues on plinths, ancient-looking leather bound b