Rick Riordan
Rick Riordan
Richard Russell "Rick" Riordan, Jr. is an American author known for writing the Percy Jackson & the Olympians series, which is about a twelve-year-old who discovers he is a son of Poseidon. His books have been translated into 37 languages and sold more than 30 million copies in the US. Twentieth Century Fox has adapted the first two books of his Percy Jackson series as part of a series of films. His books have spawned related media, such as graphic novels...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionYoung Adult Author
Date of Birth5 June 1964
CountryUnited States of America
Seriously, who curses you with their dying breath and says, I hope your eye twitches!
Tell the sun and stars hello for me.
Yeah, well,” Nico said, “not giving people a second thought…that can be dangerous.
Must’ve been hard on your mom,” Frank said. “I guess we’ll do anything for someone we love.” Hazel squeezed his hand appreciatively. Nico stared at the cobblestones. “Yeah,” he said bitterly. “I guess we will.
Piper leaned toward [Jason], her caramel braid falling over her shoulder. Her multicolored eyes made it hard for him to think straight. “And where is this place?” she asked. “A . . . uh, a town called Split.” “Split.” She smelled really good—like blooming honeysuckle. “Um, yeah.” Jason wondered if Piper was working some sort of Aphrodite magic on him—like maybe every time he mentioned Reyna’s name, she would befuddle him so much he couldn’t think about anything but Piper. He supposed it wasn’t the worst sort of revenge.
We’ve arrived,” Leo announced. “Time to Split.” Frank groaned. “Can we leave Valdez in Croatia?
[Jason] faltered when he looked at Leo, who was mimicking taking notes with an air pencil. “Go on, Professor Grace!” he said, wide-eyed. “I wanna get an A on the test.
Nico leaned over and plucked a grape. Probably that was the guy’s entire diet for the day.
Lots of death, huh? Personally, I'm trying to avoid lots of death, but you guys have fun!
Akmon squealed with delight. “I knew you were as smart as Hercules! I will call you Black Bottom, the Sequel!
You’re that lady,” Leo said. “The one who was named after Caribbean music.” Her eyes glinted murderously. “Caribbean music.” “Yeah. Reggae?” Leo shook his head. “Merengue? Hold on, I’ll get it.” He snapped his fingers. “Calypso!
The first time Calypso came to check on [Leo], it was to complain about the noise. “Smoke and fire,” she said. “Clanging on metal all day long. You’re scaring away the birds!” “Oh, no, not the birds!
Jason's fingers itched to draw his sword. He'd met plenty of scary demigods, but he was starting to realize that Nico di Angelo--as pale and gaunt as he looked--might be more than he could handle.
Nico, I've seen a lot of brave things. But what you just did? That was maybe the bravest.