I don't think about being famous, really. Being an author, I don't generally get stopped as I walk down the street. It's not like being a movie star.

Percy pushed on his side furiously and the crack closed. His eyes blazed with anger. She hoped he wasn’t mad at her, but if he was she couldn’t blame him. If it keeps him going, she thought, then let him be angry.

Which reminded me...I still owed the gods a debt. "You're a genius," I (Percy) told Annabeth.

I've got this." Apollo stepped forward. His fiery armor was so bright it was hard to look at, and his matching Ray-Bans and perfect smile made him look like a male model for battle gear. "God of medicine, at your service.

I whistled. "You have evil thoughts for a goat.

But Grover’s voice was already growing fainter. ‘Sweet dreams. Don’t let me die!

Ever come home and found your room messed up? Like some helpful person (hi, Mom) has tried to "clean" it, and suddenly you can't find anything? And even if nothing is missing, you get that creepy feeling like somebody's been looking through your private stuff and dusting everything with lemon furniture polish?