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
Annabeth recognized something else in her face, too - in the hard set of her mouth and the deliberate way she raised her chin like she was ready to accept any challenge. Reyna was forcing a look of courage, while holding back a mixture of hopefulness and worry and fear that she couldn't show in public. Annabeth knew that expression. She saw it every time she looked in a mirror.
You sure you're not a Roman, Annabeth? Or an Amazon?
Boy," Annabeth interrupted, "I'm sure you both would've been wonderful at killing each other. But right now you need some rest.
Are you the cursed kid Nemesis mentioned?" Leo asked. "But you're a girl." "You're a girl," said the girl. "Excuse me?
I'm gonna be percy Jackson when I grow up," she told Hazel solemnly. Hazel Smiled and ruffled her hair. "That's a good thing to be, Julia." "Although," Frank said. "Frank Zhang would be good too.
And in the fountain squatted a giant crab. I’m not talking ‘giant’ like $7.99 all-you-can-eat Alaskan king crab. I’m talking ‘giant’ like bigger than the fountain.
Enemy giants moved towards the breech, and Tyson picked up the fallen warrior’s club. He yelled something to his fellow blacksmiths – probably ‘FOR POSEIDON!’ – but with his mouth full of peanut butter it sounded like, ‘PUH PTEH BUN.’ His brethren all grabbed hammers and chisels, yelled, ‘PEANUT BUTTER!’ and charged behind Tyson into battle.
Now i'd like to tell u i did something heroic like stand up against a raging team of fire-breathing horses with only my sword the truth is i ran.
I’m a cat. I respect the sanctity of sleep.
What’s the point of being a magician if you can’t wave your wand and make the people you care about feel better?
We are servants of Ma’at—order and justice. We don’t kill our enemies for things they might do in the future.
I may be biased, but I think jackals are cute and cuddly, even if they were known for digging up graves in Ancient Egypt.
Maybe, standing next to the obelisk of Ma’at, surrounded by the Sea of Chaos, we both realized that restraining ourselves from vengeance is what made us different from Apophis. Rules had their place. They kept us from unraveling.
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.