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
She wanted me to betray you guys, and I was like, 'Pfft, right, I'm gonna listen to a face in the potty sludge'.
Waitress!" Hedge called. "Six double espressos, and whatever these guys want. Put it on the girl's tab.
Who's the other kid in the photo?' he asked. 'The sandy-haired guy.' Annabeth's expression tightened. Touchy subject. 'That's Luke,' she said. 'He's dead now.
Hold up," Leo said. "You guys lost a dragon? A Real full size dragon?
She blinked. "Hmm? Oh, don't care. What did Anubis look like to you?" "What did... he looked like a guy. So?" "A good-looking guy, or a slobbering dog-headed guy?" "I guess... Not the dog-headed guy." "I knew it!" Sadie pointed at me as if she'd won an argument. "Good-looking. I knew it!" And with a ridiculous grin, she spun around and skipped into the house. My sister, as I may have mentioned, is a little strange.
There's no point in defending camp if you guys die. All our friends are here.
You're pretty smug, Lord Ares, for a guy who runs from Cupid statues.
Are you guys busy?" Juniper asked. "Well," I said, "we're in the middle of this game against a bunch of monsters and we're trying not to die." "We're not busy," Annabeth said.
What the creeping crud is that?" [Percy] demanded. "You’re inside a giant glowing chicken-man!" "Hawk!" I yelled. I decided that if I survived this day I would have to make sure this guy never met Sadie. They’d probably take turns insulting me for the rest of eternity.
What are these guys?" He whispered "Canadians," Percy said. Frank leaned away from him. "Excuse me?" "Uh, no offense," Percy said. "That's what Annabeth called them when I fought them before. She said they live in the north, in Canada." "Yeah, well," Frank grumbled, "we're in Canada. I'm Canadian. But I've never seen those things before.
So let me get this straight,” Carter said. “The two guys you liked—one who was dying and one who was off-limits because he’s a god—are now one guy, who isn’t dying and isn’t off-limits. And you’re complaining.
Percy is the most powerful demigod I've ever met. No offense to you guys but it's true.
The driver got out smiling. He looked about seventeen or eighteen, and for a second, I had the uneasy feeling it was Luke, my old enemy. This guy had the same sandy hair and outdoorsy good looks. But it wasn't Luke. His smile was brighter and more playful. (Luke didn't do much more than scowl and sneer these days.) The Maserati driver wore jeans and loafers and a sleeveless T-shirt. "Wow" Thalia muttered. Apollo Is hot." "He's the sun god," I said. "That's not what I meant.
Percy looked at his friends. "I'm getting tired of this guy's shirt." "Combat time?" Piper grabbed her horn of plenty. "I hate wonder bread," Jason said. Together, they charged.