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
If you've seen a crab's mouth, all foamy and gross with whiskers and snapping bits, you can imagine this one didn't look any better blown up to billboard size.
The telkine growled and muttered as he tapped on his keyboard. Maybe he was messaging his friends on uglyface.com
I don't care what your nose says! The last time you smelled half-blood, it turned out to be a meatloaf sandwich!" "Meatloaf sandwiches are good! But this is a half-blood scent, I swear. They are on board!" "Bah, your brain isn't on board!
Good luck, boss. Don't let'em turn you into horse meat! (Blackjack)
Curse us eh/I'll make you pay!/I don't want to rhyme all day!
Like some helpful person (hi, Mom) has tried to "'clean'" it, and suddenly you can't find anything?
Do you have a favorite constalation, Percy?' I was still kind of wondering about the little green snakes he'd shoved into his jogging shorts, but i said. 'Uh, I like Hercules.' 'Why?' 'Well... because he had rotten luck. Even worse than mine. It makes me feel better." The jogger chuckled. 'Not because he was strong and famouse and all that?' 'No.
Whathat!" Tyson gasped. "Those are the stables for the pegasi," I replied, "You know, winged horses?" "Whasthat!" "Um... those are the toilets.
The gods need heroes. They always have.
I had nightmares about what Poseidon might turn me into if I were on the verge of death-plankton maybe." -Percy Jackson
I'm not usually an eavesdropper,but i dare you to try not listening if you hear your best friend talking about you to an adult.
Sadie got up and kissed Amos on the forehead. “Leave it to us, Uncle. I’ve got a plan.” “That,” I said, “sounds like very bad news.
Ma’at demands a leader.” “Yeah so I’ve heard.
What are you?” She demanded. “My dad? Osiris? Are you even alive?” Dad looked at Anubis. “What did I tell you about her? Fiercer than Ammit, I said.” “You didn’t need to tell me that.” Anubis’s face was grave. “I’ve learned to fear that sharp tongue.” Sadie looked outraged. “Excuse me?