conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me a description for a book titled Celebrity In Death about Eve, Dallas, Roundtree with the genre: Mystery, Thriller & Suspense, Mystery.. End with the sentence ' --John Charles'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: NYPD lieutenant Eve Dallas doesnt do glitz or glam, but she has no choice when Hollywood director Mason Roundtree and his wife, Connie Burkette, issue an invitation to dine with the cast of The Icove Agenda. Based on one of Eves earlier cases, the movie is just wrapping up production, and everyone wants face time with the real Lieutenant Dallas. Everyone except actress K. T. Harris, who plays the part of Eves partner, Delia Peabody, onscreen but in real life is just as bitchy to Eve as she is to everyone else. So when K. T.s body is found floating in the Roundtree and Burkettes penthouse lap pool, it really isnt that big of a surprise. The real challenge for Eve will be narrowing down her list of suspects since practically everyone at the dinner party had at least one motive for murder. Readers count on the author to deliver the goods, and her thirty-fourth (!) Eve Dallas book will not disappoint. The plot is cleverly conceived, cinematically riveting, and sexily charming, and Eve is her usual no-nonsense self. --John Charles
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the first three paragraphs for this book.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Celebrity In Death
  With frustration and some regret, she studied murder. It lay in the quiet room on a sofa the color of good merlot, with heart blood staining a pale gray sweater beneath the silver bolt of a scalpel. Her eyes, flat and grim, tracked the body, the room, the tray of artfully arranged fruit and cheese on the low table.
  She stepped to the door.
  At the director's signal, the area—dressed as the late Wilfred B. Icove, Jr.'s home office—became a hive of sound and movement.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Add another sentence about minted, smirking.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Celebrity In Death
  With frustration and some regret, she studied murder. It lay in the quiet room on a sofa the color of good merlot, with heart blood staining a pale gray sweater beneath the silver bolt of a scalpel. Her eyes, flat and grim, tracked the body, the room, the tray of artfully arranged fruit and cheese on the low table. 
  She stepped to the door. In the corridor outside the pretty blonde sat on the floor, head in her hands with the sturdily built, newly minted detective smirking beside her. 
  At the director's signal, the area—dressed as the late Wilfred B. Icove, Jr. 's home office—became a hive of sound and movement.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me four more paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: She closed her eyes again. She hated this waking fragility, this thin, shaky sensation as if she'd crack if she moved too quickly. She knew it would pass, it would smooth away again, but she hated it nonetheless. Hated, too, knowing he'd broken his habit of being up, dressed, and having accomplished God knew what in the business world before she stirred.
  She didn't argue, no point. In any case, she felt a little better, a little stronger. Just a dream, she reminded herself. And she'd known it for what it was while she'd been in it.
  She got up, knowing he'd try to pamper her into taking her coffee—and possibly the light breakfast—in bed. She took the mug from him, knocked some back.
  Careful with each other, she'd said. Yes, they were just now. And it looked as if they'd need to be for a little longer yet.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: She closed her eyes again. She hated this waking fragility, this thin, shaky sensation as if she'd crack if she moved too quickly. She knew it would pass, it would smooth away again, but she hated it nonetheless. Hated, too, knowing he'd broken his habit of being up, dressed, and having accomplished God knew what in the business world before she stirred.
  She didn't argue, no point. In any case, she felt a little better, a little stronger. Just a dream, she reminded herself. And she'd known it for what it was while she'd been in it.
  She got up, knowing he'd try to pamper her into taking her coffee—and possibly the light breakfast—in bed. She took the mug from him, knocked some back.
  Careful with each other, she'd said. Yes, they were just now.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the last five paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: She started down the steps just as McNab—EDD ace and the love of Peabody's life—started up. His bright blue pants, heavy with silver-studded pockets, stood in harsh contrast to the horror. He might've had a half million shiny rings riding along his ear, but his pretty face was hard, and all cop.
  Eve stepped over the body at the base of the stairs, saw he'd been ID'd and tagged. Trueheart continued to work the area. She imagined Baxter had given him the assignment so the young officer had less misery to pack into his psyche.
  She paused a moment, scanned. Yes, she could trust every one of them. "Full team briefing at Central." She checked the time, calculated. "Twenty-two-thirty. I'm requesting Code Blue, so no chatter. Consider yourselves on this case until I say different."
  She gave Roarke one last glance before she walked out—into cooling air, and the blessed roar of the city.
  She slid into the passenger seat, took a breath. Then drew out her communicator and contacted her commander.