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
Her freckles were orange, as if somebody had spray-painted her face with liquid Cheetos.
She wanted me to betray you guys, and I was like, 'Pfft, right, I'm gonna listen to a face in the potty sludge'.
Leo: “I can’t believe I thought you were hot.” Khione’s face turned red. “Hot? You dare insult me? I am cold, Leo Valdez. Very, very cold.
You set us up!” “No! I swear—” Her face fell. “Mel. Mel must’ve told him.” “Right,” I grumbled. “Blame Mel.
My face felt like my normal face, as if that part of me hadn’t transformed into a bird. [Fine, Sadie. Call me the Carter-headed chicken. Happy?]
I woke to a bucket of ice water in my face. “Sadie! Get up,” Zia said. “God!” I yelled. “Was that necessary?” “No,” admitted Zia.
I'd love to tell you I had some deep revelation on my way down, that I came to terms with my own mortality, laughed in the face of death, et cetera. The truth? My only thought was: Aaaaggghhhhh!
Leo had wanted to paint a giant message on the bottom of the hull-WASSUP? with a smiley-face-but Annabeth had vetoed the idea.
Now, leave." All three boys slumped forward. Percy fell face-first into his pizza. "Percy!" Annabeth grabbed him.
Maybe—just maybe—Sadie had my best interests at heart. (I just caught her making faces at me, so maybe not.)
She had to face the fact that she couldn't protect everyone she loved. She couldn't solve every problem.
Listen, Frank Zhang has moves. He's probably gonna turn into a kangaroo and do some marsupial jujitsu on their ugly faces.
Leo grabbed the neasrest thing he could find- a Porta-Potty seat- and threw it at the face. Leve me alone!
anyway. Leo said, I hope you've got your worksheet, 'cause I used mine for spit wads days ago. Why are you looking at me like that? Somebody draw on my face again?