My eighth grade teacher, Mrs. Pabst, had done her master's thesis on Tolkien. She showed me how the trilogy was patterned after Norse mythology. She was also the first person to encourage me to submit stories for publication. The idea of writing a fantasy based on myths never left me, and many years later, this would lead me to write Percy Jackson.

Nico started to crawl away, groaning. Percy wanted him to move faster and groan less. He considered throwing his wonder bread at him.

The Minotaur unstrapped his axe and swung it around. It was beautiful in a harsh I’m~going~togut~you~like~a~fish kind of way. Each of its twin blades was shaped like an omega: Ω—the last letter of the Greek alphabet. Maybe that was because the axe would be the last thing his victims ever saw

Caesar broke the law when he crossed the Rubicon," Frank said. "Great leaders have to think out side the box sometimes.

That's what happens when it snows in Texas lady. It. Freaking. Melts.

Zia turned toward us, her expression grim. “I will show you to your quarters. In the morning, your testing begins. We will see what magic you know, and how you know it.” I wasn’t sure what she meant by that, but I exchanged an uneasy look with Sadie. “Sounds fun,” Sadie ventured. “And it we fail this test?” Zia regarded her coldly. “This is not the sort of test you fail, Sadie Kane. You pass or you die.

Like water leaking through a dam," said Piper. "Yeah," smiled Percy. "We've got a dam hole." "What?" Piper asked. "Nothing," he said. "Inside joke.