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Hello George. Hey Martha (Percy) Did you bring us a rat? (George) George, stop it!He's busy! (Martha) Too busy for rats? That's just sad. (George)
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
Busy
Bring
Stop
Martha
Percy
Rats
Hello
Hey
George
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Once I got over the fact that my Latin teacher was a horse, we had a nice tour, though I was careful not to walk behind him. I'd done pooper-scooper patrol in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade a few times, and, I'm sorry, I did not trust Chiron's back the the way I trusted his front.
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What did he say? Hazel asked. With the cussing removed? He said he can get us to the top, Percy replied.
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Egyptians believe in the power of the sunrise. They believe each morning begins not just a new day, but a new world.
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The end of the world started when a pegasus landed on the hood of my car
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Wow. When he started looking back on the war with Kronos as the good old days--that was sad.
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Never bet against a cat.
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I found myself staring at her, which was stupid since I'd seen her a billion times. Still, she seemed so much more mature. It was kind of intimidating. I mean, sure, she'd always been cute, but she was starting to be seriously beautiful.
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I hoped I wasn't blushing. It was bad enough I had to depend on my mom to drive me to my battles.
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Tell the sun and stars hello for me.
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In the old legends, Arachne had gotten into trouble because of pride. She’d bragged about her tapestries being better than Athena’s, which had led to Mount Olympus’s first reality TV punishment program: 'So You Think You Can Weave Better Than a Goddess?' Arachne had lost in a big way.
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Anubis frowned. He locked his very nice eyes with mine. “You’re not dead.” “No,” I said. “Though we’re trying awfully hard.
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I remembered the last time Annabeth and I had parted ways, when she'd given me a kiss for luck in Mount St. Helens. This time, all I got was the hat.
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He had a crush on a blueberry bush once.
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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-
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I could hear hopefulness in her voice, but also doubt. She was waiting for me to admit the obvious: I’d forgotten. I was toast. I was boyfriend roadkill.
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