书名：Heroes of Olympus: The Demigod Diaries混血营英雄：混血人日记

读者对象：9-16岁

难度：Lexile蓝思阅读指数630L

作者：Rick Riordan

出版社名称：Puffin

出版时间：2012

语种：英文

ISBN：9780141344379

商品尺寸：13.8 x 2.6 x 18.4 cm

包装：精装

页数：256（以实物为准）

★《纽约时报》、《今日美国》、《华尔街日报》等强烈推荐

★希腊、罗马神话小说，“波西·杰克逊”续集 美国作家雷克·莱尔顿继“波西·杰克逊”系列故事后，编写了Heroes of Olympus: The Demigod Diaries《混血营英雄：混血人日记》，延续混血营的神话，带领读者了解希腊、罗马天神。 波西的故事看似结束，混血营的英雄事迹却仍不断发生，混血英雄们也将面临更大、更艰巨的挑战任务！ Percy Jackson and Annabeth must rescue stolen goods from a fire-breathing giant who doesn't take kindly to intruders. And Leo, Piper, and Jason have to dodge a band of party-loving Maenads and stave off an explosion - in one hour or less… Discover three never-before-seen short stories starring the Heroes of Olympus and Percy Jackson. PLUS original art, character interviews, puzzles and much more.

Heroes of Olympus: The Demigod Diaries《混血营英雄：混血人日记》是雷克·莱尔顿冒着生命危险写下的书！为了让已跨入混血人世界的你勇敢面对怪物的突袭，并机警应付希腊与罗马天神喜怒无常的情绪，莱尔顿以秘密的方式取得了本书内容，然而这一举动却可能惹恼泰丽雅和安娜贝斯，甚至激怒旅行之神荷米斯。 

但莱尔顿还是把你的生存放在第1位，破例公开前所未见的冒险故事。你可以透过路克的日记，知道他和泰丽雅如何遇到当时年仅七岁的安娜贝斯；从波西和安娜贝斯夺回双蛇杖的过程中，了解乔治和玛莎这两条蛇有多爱碎碎念……书中还穿插各种游戏，让你在冒险中知己知彼、百战百胜！现在，提高警戒，准备迎接你未来的艰难挑战吧

雷克·莱尔顿，当今世界畅销童书作家之一，也是畅销书“39条线索系列”的作者之一。他将神话角色巧妙地融入冒险故事框架中，创作出了“波西·杰克逊系列”小说，深受全球广大青少年读者喜爱，占据各大畅销书排行榜，并获得诸多重要奖项。莱尔顿也经常到各地和大小读者交流写作与生活的心得，目前和家人住在美国得克萨斯州的圣安东尼奥。

Rick Riordanis the #1 New York Times bestselling author of the Percy Jackson and the Olympians series, the Kane Chronicles, and the Heroes of Olympus. He is also the author of the multi-award-winning Tres Navarre mystery series for adults. Today over 35 million copies of his Percy Jackson, Kane Chronicles, and Heroes of Olympus books are in print in the United States, and rights have been sold into more than 35 countries. Rick is also the author of The 39 Clues: The Maze of Bones, another #1 New York Times bestseller. Rick Riordan now writes full-time. He lives in Boston with his wife and two sons.

For three days, Thalia and I had been following the goat across Virginia. I wasn’t sure why. To me, the goat didn’t look like anything special, but Thalia was more agitated than I’d ever seen her before. She was convinced the goat was some sort of sign from her dad, Zeus.

Yeah, her dad is a Greek god. So is mine. We’re demigods. If you think that sounds cool, think again. Demigods are monster magnets. All those ancient Greek nasties like Furies and harpies and gorgons still exist, and they can sense heroes like us from miles away. Because of that, Thalia and I spend all our time running for our lives. Our superpowerful parents don’t even talk to us, much less help us. Why? If I tried to explain that, I’d fill up this whole diary, so I’m going to move on. Anyway, this goat would pop up at random times, always in the distance. Whenever we tried to catch up to it, the goat would vanish and appear further away, as if it was leading us somewhere. Me, I would’ve left it alone. Thalia wouldn’t explain why she thought it was important, but she and I had been adventuring together long enough that I’d learned to trust her judgement. So we followed the goat. Early in the morning, we made it into Richmond. We trudged across a narrow bridge over a lazy green river, past wooded parks and Civil War cemeteries. As we got closer to the centre of town, we navigated through sleepy neighbourhoods of red-brick town houses wedged close together, with white-columned porches and tiny gardens. I imagined all the normal families living in those cosy houses. I wondered what it would be like to have a home, to know where my next meal was coming from and not have to worry about getting eaten by monsters every day. I’d run away when I was only nine — five long years ago. I barely remembered what it was like to sleep in a real bed. After walking another mile, my feet felt like they were melting inside my shoes. I hoped we could find a place to rest, maybe get some food. Instead, we found the goat. The street we were following opened up into a big circular park. Stately red-brick mansions faced the roundabout. In the middle of the circle, atop a twenty-foot white marble pedestal, was a bronze dude sitting on horseback. Grazing at the base of the monument was the goat. ‘Hide!’ Thalia pulled me behind a row of rosebushes. ‘It’s just a goat,’ I said for the millionth time. ‘Why —?’ ‘It’s special,’ Thalia insisted. ‘One of my dad’s sacred animals. Her name is Amaltheia.’ She’d never mentioned the goat’s name before. I wondered why she sounded so nervous. Thalia isn’t scared of much. She’s only twelve, two years younger than I am, but if you saw her walking down the street you’d clear a path. She wears black leather boots, black jeans and a tattered leather jacket studded with punk rock buttons. Her hair is dark and choppy like a feral animal’s. Her intense blue eyes bore into you as if she’s considering the best way to beat you to a pulp.