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But... you're still getting married? Grover sounded hurt. Who's the bride? Ploypemus looked toward the boiling pot. Clarisse made a strangled sound. Oh, no! You can't be serious. I'm not-

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
Getting
Brides
Sound
Sounded
Stills
Pot
Still
Looked
Made
Toward
Strangled
Married
Grover
Serious
Boiling
Hurt
Bride

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I can’t believe how much this place has grown,” Hazel muttered. The taxi driver grinned in the rearview mirror. “Been a long time since you visited, miss?” “About seventy years,” Hazel said. The driver slid the glass partition closed and drove on in silence.
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Waitress! Hedge called. Six double espressos, and whatever these guys want. Put it on the girl's tab.
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Polyphemus stiffened. Who said that? Nobody! Annabeth yelled. That got exactly the reaction she'd been hoping for. The monster's face turned red with rage. Nobody! Polyphemus yelled back. I remember you! You're too stupid to remember anybody, Annabeth taunted. Much less Nobody.
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Staying silent, staying away from him... that was the hardest thing I've ever done.
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Schist, said an angry voice from the grass. Hazel raised her eyebrows. Excuse me? Schist! Big pile of schist!
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Tyson, I said We're turning around! Going the wrong way? he asked. Always, I grumbled, but I steered the chariot towards the stands.
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Five shall go west to the goddess in chains, One shall be lost in the land without rain, The bane of Olympus shows the trail, Campers and Hunters combined prevail, The Titan's curse must one withstand, And one shall perish by a parent's hand
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Families are messy. Immortal families are eternally messy. Sometimes the best we can do is to remind each other that we're related for better or for worse...and try to keep the maiming and killing to a minimum.
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You deal with mythological stuff for a few years, you learn that paradises are usually places where you get killed.
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What's Cabin Nine? Leo asked. And I'm not a Vulcan! Come on, Mr. Spock, I'll explain everything.
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The thing about plummetting downhill at fifty miles an hour on a snack platter - if you realize it's a bad idea when you're halfway down, it's too late.
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I knew Dionysus must've filled it out, because he stubbornly insisted on getting my name wrong: Dear _______Peter Johnson__________.
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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 befor
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All we can do, child, is follow our destiny.
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Frank didn’t drop you on purpose,” she said. “He’s not like that. He’s just a little clumsy sometimes.” “Oops,” Leo said, in his best Frank Zhang voice. “Dropped Leo into a squad of enemy soldiers. Dang it!
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Because I know you, Percy Jackson. In many ways, you are impulsive, but when it comes to your friends, you are as constant as a compass needle. You are unswervingly loyal, and you inspire loyalty. You are the glue that will unite the seven.
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Hmm…” Jason snapped his fingers. “I can call a friend for a ride.” Percy raised his eyebrows. “Oh, yeah? Me too. Let's see whose friend gets here first.
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What was I up to, you may ask? I certainly didn't want to meet Monsieur Evil again or creepy old Lord Salamander.
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But if she'd realized that nine desiccated zombie nymphs would be waiting for her, she never would have come down here.
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That's what being a demigod was all about, not quite belonging in the mortal world or on Mount Olympus but trying to make peace with both sides of their nature.
Rick Riordan