I feel incredibly fortunate to have had the level of success I've had. I was just writing stories for my own sons.

The House is in the house" Chapter 38

Just for you non-sea-god types out there, don't go swimming in New York Harbor. It may not be as filthy as it was in my mom's day, but that water will still probably make you grow a third eye or have mutant children when you grow up.

"Yeah, flattering." Percy raised Riptide. "But actually I'm the son of Poseidon. I'm from Camp Half-Blood."

I prayed the monsters would give up. Or that perhaps Philip of Macedonia would climb back to the terrace (do crocodiles climb?) and renew the fight.

The sea does not like to be restrained.

We had enough quite enough snobbery in this world without exporting it to the hereafter.