What's My Percy Jackson Cabin Novels & Stories

“That would be – that would be amazing, Evelyn – seriously!? I mean, Annabeth is so nice, but I can’t stay in her house forever.” “I think it’s perfect,” and I really do smile to think of her there in that quiet pleasant cabin. “And check the driveway – there should still be a car there with a trunk full of cash to keep you very comfortable. Don’t worry – we’ll take that out of Rafe’s pay. Call it restitution.” ————————————————————————————————————

Mara flicks me a look that says are you alright and also I told you so. My mouth goes dry. My body… does not. The shock shoots straight through him and into me. The scent of him sharpens, storm, pine, heat, and now I’m the one who stumbles, slick saturating my ass. “Eyes up,” Jace snaps, already pivoting into a different plan. “Cabin.” “Cabin?” I echo, because my brain is a genius that latches onto the most unserious word. Hazel grins. “Rut Cabin.”

"I'm going. I'm going. Geesh." "I'll send someone out for you, Dominic," he calls back to the van as he follows me up the steps to the house. From the direction we turned leaving the mad rush downtown, we're in the woods north of Pelican Bay proper. The woodland area is full of small hunting cabins built by families over the centuries. There's no telling what family this dilapidated cabin belongs to, but from the hole in the front porch and sagging steps, it's been a while since they've visited.