ALA Booklist
Riordan thrilled readers with the tale of a boy who discovers he's a demigod, and in this spin-off series starter, he turns the tables. Apollo has done something to anger his father, Zeus, and he's been cursed to walk the earth as gawky, mortal 16-year-old Lester Papadopolous. If that weren't bad enough, he's required to obey the command of whichever demigod he encounters first, and in his case, that's grouchy, volatile Meg, a 12-year-old with a powerful ability to wield garbage as a weapon. Together, the pair make their way to Camp Halfblood, only to discover that demigods are going missing, and it has something to do with whispering trees, the blocked Oracle of Delphi, and a dangerous new threat. Apollo's first-person narrative, awkwardly juggling his godly egotism and teenage insecurity, is pure comedy, and Riordan's careful interweaving of Greek myths throughout the story adds some emotional depth to his often vainglorious lead. Cinematic scene breaks and fast-paced action give this plenty of appeal, but it's the familiar faces that will reel in Riordan's fans.
Kirkus Reviews
With more Mel Brooks-ian flare than a fourth wall could hope to contain, Riordan presents another expansion to his modern pantheon. Punished by his father, Zeus, sun god Apollo falls from grace—literally—first landing painfully in a dumpster and then, humiliatingly, into the service of a streetwise, 12-year-old, presumably white demigod named Meg McCaffrey. The now-mortal Apollo seeks help from Camp Half-Blood and its resident heroes only to find that there's been a plague of disappearances among the demigods, the camp has been cut off from the Oracle of Delphi and its quest-granting prophecies, and a sinister conspiracy is working tirelessly to destroy everything the former sun god holds dear. In his narration, Apollo alternately waxes poetic about his godly virtues (including his open bisexuality) and gripes about his current awkwardness and servitude to the enigmatic Meg. Egocentric to the point of rollicking self-deprecation as he tries to reconcile millennia of personal history as an immortal with his sudden fragile finitude, his voice overpowers any sense of his new 16-year-old white, acned form, and he continuously disrupts the narrative to remind readers of his dissatisfying appearance. Nonetheless, the wearying negotiation of inner and outer self will ring true for (im)mortals of any age as Apollo desperately works to save himself and everyone else. A clash of mythic intrigues and centuries of pop culture to thrill die-hard and new fans alike. (glossary) (Fantasy. 12-17)