conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What could be a title for a book about Harley, Amazon, Book with the genre: Literature & Fiction, Action & Adventure?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: A title for this book could be 'Barbed Wire Heart'
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What is the first three paragraphs for this book?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Barbed Wire Heart
  I'm not supposed to see. But those first few weeks after Momma died, whenever Uncle Jake isn't around, I'm just running wild.
  I spend a lot of time in the woods, playing up in the deer blinds or seeing how high I can get in the trees on my own steam. Sometimes I cry over missing Momma. Sometimes I can't help it.
  I like the woods. They're loud and quiet at the same time, the soundtrack and lullaby of my life for as long as I can remember. When I climb the big oaks, pulling myself up with all my might, reaching and jumping and swinging my body along branch and bark like a squirrel, I have to pay attention or I might slip and fall. When I climb, I don't have to think about Momma being gone. Or about how all Daddy does now is storm around in a whiskey cloud, cleaning his guns and muttering about Springfields and blood.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What is five more paragraphs?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: He nods. "Banks are bullshit, Harley Jean. Hardworking people get turned down for loans all the time. So men like me help them out."
  Daddy puts his arm around me, drawing me close. "Sixteen," he says, squeezing my shoulder. "I can't believe it."
  When we get to Fir Hill, I help Will unstrap and unload his bike in the parking lot. We stand there awkwardly for a second, and I'm so aware that if things go wrong, I might never see him again. It makes me want to trash the whole plan. To just run away like he wants.
  Will showing up had been a distraction from what was to come. What's waiting for me at the Tropics and how I react—how I sell my story—will determine everything.
  I drive away from Fir Hill, heading back west on 299. Coming into town, I take the off-ramp, drive down the main drag, and at Market Street, I take a left and pull into the Tropics parking lot. Cooper's old blue Dodge is already parked outside, along with Buck's Jeep and a few other familiar vehicles. They're all here.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What is the last two paragraphs? End with the sentence ' She lives deep in the backwoods with a pack of dogs and a growing colony of slightly feral cats.'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The old guard who helped grow a mountain girl into a writer: Arnie, Ellen, Georgie, Michael, Carol and Ted, Kitty and Paul, John and Antonio. Thank you for being a part of my raising up.
  Born in a mountain cabin to a punk-rocker mother, **Tess Sharpe** grew up in rural Northern California. She lives deep in the backwoods with a pack of dogs and a growing colony of slightly feral cats.