The Red Pyramid by Rick Riordan — A Book Dragon Review

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Red PyramidBook Review Profile of the Red Pyramid

Title: The Red Pyramid

Author: Rick Riordan

Genre: Middle Grades Fiction

Main Characters: Carter & Sadie Kane

Small Bio: Sadie and Carter Kane find out their boring archaeologist dad is actually an Egyptian magician, who is trying to save the world from Apophis (the Chaos Snake). After Set (Egyptian god) captures their dad, Sadie and Carter must find out Set’s plan and save the world before Chaos has a chance.

Favorite Quote(s):

“I saw magicians dueling in a place. A man in tattered robes, with a shaggy black beard and wild eyes, threw down his staff, which turned into a serpent and devoured a dozen other snakes. I got a lump in my throat, “Is that…”

“Musa,” Zia said, “Or Moshe, as his own people knew him. You call him Moses. The only foreigner ever to defeat the House in a magic duel.”

Reviewer Thoughts: I love mythology. The stories about good vs. evil always get my blood pumping and normally it is greek mythology I cling to, but Riordan has opened up a soft spot for Egyptian mythology now. The format for this story is much different than others I’ve read from him. This is the first book series (before the seven Olympians) he goes back and forth in point of view. His first series was all Percy, so it was refreshing hearing from both of the narrators. Also, something I always enjoy is Riordan has small references to Christianity such as the Moses part and in other books, he references how there is an all powerful God above all the mythological ones. I can’t wait to read the next adventure for Sadie and Carter!

Goodreads.com Rating: 4.06 out of 5

Reviewers Rating: 5 out of 5 Stars —  Recommend to any pre-teen who loves fantasy, mythology, and adventure.

Keep the Reading Fire Going,

BookDragon

Afraid of Me, Myself, & I (Part 3): Continue on the Adventure w/ Jason & the Nameless Girl

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afraidAfraid of Me, Myself, & I (Part 3)

(See below for the links to the first two parts and catch up on their adventures)

It had been a month and still no sign of Donovan. Jason was starting to get restless, but I was enjoying trying to get back to a normal life. Well, as normal as I could remember. According to Jason, this was my third life. In a sense that my second life was me still technically alive, just reprogrammed. I don’t remember that part. All I remember is going to the school dance with Jason as high school sweethearts, kissing under the tacky disco ball our committee put up for kicks and giggles. After high school, well, that is the blur.

Jason had left the trailer for the day to find some work. We had been moving from small town to town, sniffing out Donovan, but trying to stay under the radar. Especially since the newspaper in Boston said I died and my family had a memorial service for me.

For now, we settled in a town called Maysville, Nebraska that had an abandoned trailer park. We decided it would be safe to stay here a little longer since our funds were pretty much depleted.

I needed a walk and we needed some food, so I grabbed my black zip up hoodie and the rest of the cash we had. Flipping up my hood, I walked through the leaves falling from the trees. I smiled, remembering glimpses of jumping into piles of leaves as my dad tossed more on top of me. The memory of what he looked like alluded me.

I shook my head as I passed some teens trying to make an ollie on their skateboards. I finally came to the old mom and pop store, ringing the bell that hangs over the door when I entered. The cashier looked up to greet me, but her face fell as she took in my facial features under my hood. I waved, but the blood drained from her face. Before I took a step in she had a shotgun pulled out from beneath the counter pointed right at me. My eyes went wide in panic and the door behind me opened. A frantic Jason stopped right beside me and raised his hands up when he realized the gun pointing at me.

“What is going on?” I asked him mentally.

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He replied out loud, “Apparently, you have been here before.”

I glanced over at a picture behind the girl. It was her and a man with balding hair and a scar on his left eyebrow. My brain sparked as an image of this man on the floor, bloodied with a knife sticking out of his chest flashed across my eyes.

“I…killed someone here…” I mentally whispered to him, but it must have gone to the girl and the guests that were in the store, who know saw the gun pointed at me because I could now hear the fear. My carefully constructed mental barrier broke.

“Jason, they are afraid of me,” I mentally said to him, “I don’t blame them. I am afraid of myself too.”

Jason and I looked at each other, trying to figure out how we were going to get out of this one.

Links to Parts 1 & 2

This is the Tricky Part (Part 1)

French Fries & Revenge (Part 2)

UnNerved: A Friday Fictioneer Flash Fiction Piece by AshleyDannie

UnNerved
PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

Unnerved

The half egg shaped arches unnerved me. I just stared at the entrance, feeling claustrophobic.

“I can do this,” I whispered, clutching my violin.

A fellow violinist walked up beside me, “I froze in that hallway my first time too.”

“What happened?”

“I missed the concert and demoted down to second violins.”

“Oh boy.”

The fellow violinist glanced down at my shaking hands, “Trust me. Just close your eyes, take a breath, and let those strings sing. Each time you get up there by yourself it gets easier.”

“Really?”

The man chuckled, “No.”

I stared as he walked away.

 

 

 

 

This is the parameters of the story. 🙂

Friday Fictioneers
copyrighted to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

 

 

Not the Plan based on a True Story {Friday Fictioneer Piece}

Plan
copyrights go to Amy Reese

Not the Plan

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open to a sterile looking hallway, but with garage doors. The trolley’s wheels squeaked on the floor as she pulled it to door 218. Her eyes, slightly swollen from tears, focused on the lock and key. The clunk of the lock as she dropped it, vibrated her very being.

She huffed as she lifted the aluminum entrance to reveal boxes of her life neatly stacked. This wasn’t the plan. These were supposed to be moved to a Florida apartment, not her Indiana childhood basement.

Tears fell as she started to load the trolley.

Word Count: 99        (Based on a true story)

Copyrights: Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
Copyrights: Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Bang Bang Goes the Fireworks {A Friday Fictioneers Tale}

Bang Bang

A Friday Fictioneers Tale: Bang Bang

The lights flooded the sky overhead as the red glow burned into the night sky. I watched as I snaked through the alleyways. The shadows I normally can blend into were gone. 4th of July. Worst night for my kind of work.

I saw the target–middle-aged and balding. A family man, sitting with his kids and wife. The little ones running around with sparklers, laughing.

They have no idea. I found the deepest shadows and aimed. I waited. Remembering the images of bodies killed by his command. A slew of fireworks shot up as I pulled the trigger.

Word Count: 99

This is the Tricky Part {Writing Prompt Wednesday Story}

Writing Prompt Wednesday

This is the Tricky Part

tricky part I died. It was easy actually. A bullet found my heart, shredding it pieces. It felt like sleeping at first until he got his hands on me. He wheeled me into a secure room and…and…

Well, let’s just say dying is easy. Coming back is when things get tricky. And they got tricky. The pain racked through my body as the electric pulses tried to start up my brain and my new heart. The peace ripped away from me.

I twitched. My eyes fluttered. My ears heard screaming. It sounded like a banshee…found out later it was me.

Silence.

The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was a blank white canvas of a ceiling. Everything was sterile. I turned my head, feeling every muscle ache and pull as if I hadn’t used them in years. As if I was a new being, awakening for the first time. Then I saw him. He stood at the end of my bed–Jason.

I tried saying his name, but the words caught, and my vocal chords puffed out only air.

“You…you won’t be able to speak…I couldn’t heal your vocal chords,” his voice was rough.

Why, I thought.

He answered as if he heard me, “The second bullet went through your throat. I didn’t have time to repair it.”

My hands shot up to my throat. That action barely registered on the pain meter this time. Actually, my reflexes felt–powerful.

What is happening to me, I pondered inside my head.

He answered. “I had to use a high degree of electric shock therapy to get things going again. He…changed you…”

I started to panic. Electric shock? What am I? Frankenstein’s bride?

“Cora. I would never piece you back together in that nature…”

I looked down. No stitches. No random new body parts–just a new heart. My eyes found his again and I could see his pain–and his relief.

Why can you hear me? I directed the thought toward him.

He grinned, “I don’t know. All I know is you’re back.”

Then I heard it. The thoughts floating in the air.

We got her surrounded.

                                 Move! Move!

On my mark!

I pushed a thought to him, It might not last very long…

He gave me a concerned look right before the doors burst open in flames and men charged in…

{to be continued}

A Bridge in a Field {Friday Fictioneer 100 word Story}

A Bridge in a Field
© Adam Ickes

A Short Story: A Bridge in a Field

She walked cautiously on the bridge. She ran her hand gently over the wood railing, peering over. The water that once ran free through the corn fields dried up, showing only dirt and weeds.

The gazebo at the end looked as broken as her. In their prime, they saw love–created love. She twisted the diamond ring, removing it. She held it up one last time. She chucked it into the barren creek. She watched the ring fall, glistening as it dropped, but like the love she once knew, it was gone, covered by the muck.

 

Word count: 96

Coming Back from My Hiatus–A Summer’s Tale

My Hiatus

Summer 2016 turned into many sunshine-filled months of gluing myself to my computer to accomplish my final task for my Master’s in Creative Writing–My Capstone. I had to write 15,000 words of a novel I wanted to start to create and a publication plan with it, so I ignored any other writing I would normally do (including this blog) and set out on my journey. During my adventure into the stressful life of storytelling for a final grade, I found Mia. She is a mid-twenties, young, business owner who has accomplished a few of my own dreams, but nothing ever is what it seems.

I only finished the first third of the novel and I am still walking down Mia’s path as she faces tragedy and her past. Since school is over I can start sharing some of the writing love back to my beloved blog. So I will be sharing bits and pieces of Mia’s journey as I continue to complete the novel. Here is a small section of the story.

Falling to Pieces

“MOVE!” I screamed at the body lying down on the pavement beneath me. I was floating–suspended in midair–witnessing the disaster beneath me. I wanted to help. I needed to help, but invisible strings kept me in place, only allowing me to see and not act.

“Stay with us!” a paramedic hollered at the body. I could only see the person’s jeans and their right hand, lifelessly stretched out. Something glistened for a split second on one of it’s fingers–something gold…

I shot up out of bed when I Prevail, a local rock/screamo/heavy metal band from Grand Rapids, jarred my sleep heavy body awake with their version of Blank Space by Taylor Swift from my iphone next to my bed. In my opinion it was the better version of the song. I pressed my palms to my eyes, trying to remember what I had just dreamt about. It was already slowly fading into the black void. Once I opened my eyes, accepting defeat, a glisten of something gold flashed below me and I instinctively grabbed at my ring on my right hand, twisting it as I always do when I am nervous. For a moment I almost remembered my dream, but the moment past as I heard many feet clicking across the floor toward my bedroom.

So I welcome you into the life of Mia and I hope you stay with me through the journey of writing, the rejections of publishers, and the final joy of getting my manuscript published (Lord willing).

Keep Shining,

 

AshleyDannie

Sparks of Love (A Friday Fictioneer Piece)

 

antiques-along-the-mohawk
Photo Prompt from Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

My First FRIDAY FICTIONEERS Post. Hope You Enjoy!

(Friday Fictioneers is created by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, who provides a photo prompt and writers are to craft a 100 word or less story.)        

 

It’s been forty years since she looked out this window and seen the building, which held so much love in her heart…

James? James!” the girl whispered as loudly as she dared.

                In the shadows, hands shot out, grabbing her, making her scream. She turned to find him with his wide grin and sparkling green eyes.

                “Lily,” he whispered, “You came.”

                They kissed, collapsing into each other’s arms. The kiss was passionately short.

                 “My father will kill us, James.”

                “Not if he can’t find us…”

“Mom?” a young woman pulled Lily back to the window, familiar green eyes shining.