All of my characters tend to be montages of different people I've met: little bits and pieces of their personalities put together.

We'd spent maybe ten minutes together, during which time I'd accidentally swung a sword at her, she'd saved my life, and I'd run away chased by a band of supernatural killing machines. You know, your typical chance meeting.

Annabeth came up to me. She was dressed in black camouflage with her Celestial bronze knife strapped to her arm and her laptop bag slung over her shoulder—ready for stabbing or surfing the Internet, whichever came first.

Please, Percy...change your clothes. You smell like you've been run over by an electric horse.

Who's the other kid in the photo?' he asked. 'The sandy-haired guy.' Annabeth's expression tightened. Touchy subject. 'That's Luke,' she said. 'He's dead now.

You're a Demigod Percy, half god and half mortal!

Annabeth pressed her lips to Percy’s ear. “I love you.” She wasn’t sure he could hear her—but if they died, she wanted those to be her last words.