Why does it have to be so hard? Why can't it be a happily-ever-after ride-into-the-sunset feeling all the time?

Back when I was on my first assignment as a seeker, I was way out in Arizona. Brought in this kid named Clarisse.” “Clarisse?” “Sibling of yours,” Hedge said. “Ares kid. Violent. Rude. Lots of potential.

I’m a cat. I respect the sanctity of sleep.

My name is Percy Jackson. I'm twelve years old. Until a few months ago, I was a boarding student at Yancy Academy, a private school for troubled kids in upstate New York. Am I a troubled kid? Yeah. You could say that.

Great, I thought. We just blowtorched a national monument.

Travis: The Aphrodite kids were ripping each other’s clothes and throwing lipstick and jewellery. It was like a rabid herd of wild Bratz.

All invincible and stuff