Book Review: The Blood Of Olympus

It brings me great sadness to say, I have officially finished the entire Percy Jackson and Heroes of Olympus series. My journey with Percy Jackson began almost six years ago and now, with Rick Riordan's last book of the series, my journey has come to an end. Yes, I know I'm too old to be reading them anymore, everyone has advanced to sappy, romance novels and I'm still basking in the wonderful world of Greek and Roman mythology, but do you understand how much these books have impacted my life? I used to constantly envision myself as a demigod, living at Camp Half Blood, probably dating Percy. Would it be an exaggeration to say that finishing Blood of Olympus was like sealing off a part of my childhood? I think not. 




Onto the book itself, it was (as usual) an epic wave of demigod awesomeness and a few 
perfect Percabeth moments here and there. If you've never read Percy Jackson, you may be very confused right now. I highly recommend you go read it now. I don't have much else to say, except that when I realised I only had a few pages left, I didn't know whether to cry or to laugh. I realise that this isn't really a book review, more of a bumble of a words about my favourite series ever. 

Thank you Uncle Rick for filling my life with a fantastic world of demigods (as well as distracting me from my studies).