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
You have a humming dodo bird," I said stupidly.
I need to talk to Clarisse," Annabeth said. I stared at her as if she'd just said "I need to eat a large, smelly boot." "What for?
A little slower, sweetheart. Cape Cod is freezing over.
Tyson! Thank the gods, Annabeth is hurt!" "You thank the gods that she is hurt?" he asked, puzzled.
I guess it wasn't everyday they see a yellow lifeboat with no engine going a hundred knots an hour, manned by three kids.
The Feast of Fortuna had nothing to do with tuna, which was fine with Percy.
You think it's okay that we're eating Rudolph?" "Dude," Percy said, "I could eat Prancer and Blitzen, too. I'm HUNGRY.
You seem to be clean," Terminus decided. "Do you have anything to declare?" "Yes," Percy said. "I declare this is stupid.
Mr. D," Grover asked timidly, "if you're not going to eat it, could I have your Diet Coke can?
Even from far away, I could see people being chased by hellhounds, burned at the stake, forced to run naked through cactus patches or listen to opera music.
Gods tend to be selfish. Even when they're helpful, they always have their own motives. That's why you have to be careful about trusting them.
Either the kid was naturally hyper or he was hopped up on enough caffeine to give a heart attack to a water buffalo.
Part of their problem was Percy. He fought like a demon, whirling through the defender's ranks in a completely unorthodox style, rolling under their feet, slashing with his sword instead of stabbing like a Roman would, whacking campers with the flat of his blade, and generally causing mass panic.
As he fell toward the highway, a horrible scenario flashed through his mind: his body smashing against an SUV's windshield, some annoyed commuter trying to push him off with the wipers. "Stupid 16-year-old kid falling from the sky! I'm late!