conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What could be a title for a book about Blood, Midwest, Book with the genre: Teen & Young Adult, Literature & Fiction?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: A title for this book could be 'Blood Will Out'
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What is the first four paragraphs for this book?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Blood Will Out
  She inhaled, appalled by what she was thinking but excited too. It was like the moment before she dove into the water, the seconds before the race started. She always knew within a few heartbeats if everything was going to work in perfect rhythm or if it was all going to fall apart.
  Ari could do the same thing, but in reality, she would be the hunter. What did that entail exactly? Making sure she was alone? Walking blindly into dark alleys? She had to do this with her eyes wide open.
  She scrubbed at the itchy scab above her ear. The bandage was flapping loose. She peeled it away and prodded the wound. It was healing. It felt crusty but there was no blood. She poked some more and frowned. Had the doctor clipped her hair? No, she'd have remembered that. The sensation of the cold stethoscope traveling over her back was still vivid, the dry, powdery feel of the latex gloves.
  She got clumsily to her feet, stumbled over to the bed and switched the light back on, blinking until her eyes adjusted. She had a hand mirror in the drawer, a full-length hanging on her door. She held the hand mirror behind her and aimed it at the side of her head. Carefully she separated a sweaty mat of hair and pushed it aside. Scalp gleamed. She was missing a big chunk.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What is five more paragraphs?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Ari swallowed hard. "I'm worried. I think something bad has happened to him. The cops have put out an alert." Had it been Stroud who had led her to the cistern? She thought back to the dumbass she had been. She would have followed him anywhere; she would have jumped at the chance. Her hand went up to the wound above her ear. It was throbbing, shooting out spikes of pain.
  Ari drew a deep breath and steadied herself against the railing. She walked back down the stairs in a daze, assaulted by her thoughts. It was hard not to feel as if they were all walking around in a fog. Only one person knew what was going on, and she had to find him.
  She crushed it in her hand, slammed the locker shut with such force that it rebounded. She shoved it closed again and struck it with the flat of her hand, leaning her forehead against it.
  Tanner's Way. She had some idea where exit 20 was but she was drawing a blank on the rest of the address. She could google it.
  She ran down the hall to the computer lab. It was packed with students tapping away at their keyboards, a teacher pacing between the desks. She wanted to scream. Her nerves were worn to shreds and her determination was in tatters. She took a couple of deep breaths, kept walking, looking into classrooms as she passed. Dr. McNamara was in the middle of another lesson, writing something on the board below a detailed drawing of a dissected frog. She kept an eye open for Jack and Jesse but didn't see either one.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What is the last five paragraphs? Start with the sentence 'Thanking people always makes me feel like I'm Sleeping Beauty's parents—sure to forget to invite someone crucial to the party—but here goes:
  My fierce agent Ali McDonald at The Rights Factory for going above and beyond in all things always, and for enervating drinks in airport bars, and Diane Terrana for her incredibly valuable and incisive editorial input'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Thanking people always makes me feel like I'm Sleeping Beauty's parents—sure to forget to invite someone crucial to the party—but here goes:
  My fierce agent Ali McDonald at The Rights Factory for going above and beyond in all things always, and for enervating drinks in airport bars, and Diane Terrana for her incredibly valuable and incisive editorial input.
  Editors extraordinaire Lynne Missen and Peter Phillips, and everyone at Penguin Random House Canada, as well as Linda Pruessen, copy editor, and Sarah Howden, proofreader.
  Amazing writer friends who gave much-needed critical feedback and/or talked me down from the ledge: Alison Gaylin, my critique partner E.M. Alexander, Kat Kruger, Elisabeth Bailey, Charles de Lint and Lynn McCarron.
  And Charise Isis, Nancy Wilson, Charity Valk, Madeleine Kendall, Kelly Jane Barker and Lisa Doucet—because YOU! And me without you equals not fun.