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I have to be careful. My readers are very detail-oriented, and if I make a mistake they'll call me on it.

Rick Riordan

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Rick Riordan
Age: 60
Born: 1964
Born: June 5
Author
Novelist
Teacher
Writer
Military City
USA
Richard Russell Riordan
Jr.
Richard Russell Riordan Jr
Detail
Readers
Details
Careful
Reader
Mistake
Call
Make
Oriented

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I think kids will read more good books than we can possibly produce.
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I past another telkhine, who was so startled he dropped his Lil' Demons lunch box. I left him alive - partly because he had a cool lunch box.
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Our secret weapon, Khione! We're not just a bunch of demigods. We're a team.
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Texting, even browsing the Internet - all these things can attract monsters.
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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.
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Team Leo!~ Leo valdez
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If I've got the powers of a god, then why am I so... Lame? Sadie suggested. Shut up, I said.
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Here's a tip, Alyconeus. Next time you choose the biggest state for your home, don't set up base in the part that's only 10 miles wide. Welcome to Canada, idiot.
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his hair was permed and gelled like a New Jersey girl's on homecoming night. Percy Jackson
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I didn't answer, but, please - nothing is obvious with boys. For such simple creatures, they are quite baffling.
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I disobeyed Ra's wishes, and so he ordered my onw father, Shu- Hang on, I said. Shoe? S-h-u, she said. The god of the wind. On. I wished these gods had names that wearn't common household objects. Go on, please.
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More minions!” he shouted. “Come to me!” That couldn’t be good. Another round of giant crocs and we’d be dead. Why don’t we get minions? I complained to Horus, but he didn’t answer.
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One down, Beckendorf said. About five thousand to go. He tossed me a jar of thick green liquid—Greek fire, one of the most dangerous magical substances in the world. Then he threw me another essential tool of demigod heroes—duct tape
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I wondered if I would appear on a temple wall painting someday. A blonde Egyptian girl with purple highlights running sideways through the palm trees, screaming Yikes! in hieroglyphics as Neith chased after me. The thought of some poor archaeologist trying to figure that out almost lifted my spirits.
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The truth hit him. Jason wasn't quite Roman anymore. His time at Camp Half-Blood had changed him. Reyna had recognized that. Apparently, so did the undead legionnaires. If Jason no longer gave off the right sort of vibe, or aura of a Roman leader.
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My brother broke into a toothy grin. Yay! Your brain works!
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I don’t define myself by the boys who may or may not like me.
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Hazel frowned. Why that one? You don't see the ghost? Frank asked. Ghost? Nico asked. Okay... if Frank was seeing a ghost that the Underworld kids couldn't see, something was definitely wrong.
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His lion and hippo legs twitched. I wondered if netherworld monsters dreamed of chasing rabbits.
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Keep a demon busy, I thought. Right. Maybe he fancies a game of Tiddlywinks.
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