conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What could be a title for a book about Paso, Texas, Thirteen with the genre: Literature & Fiction, Action & Adventure?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: A title for this book could be 'Divine Misfortune'
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the first three paragraphs for this book.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Divine Misfortune
  She shrugged. "I don't know. It just is. I mean, dogs are nice, at least. But jackals... who has anything nice to say about them?"
  Phil scrolled through Anubis's profile. "He's a pretty good find. I think we should sign up with him while we can."
  Teri looked at him coldly. She didn't use the look a lot, but it meant there was no changing her mind. He didn't feel like fighting about it anyway. There were plenty of other gods. Somewhere in the hundreds of listed profiles, there had to be one she couldn't find anything wrong with.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me three more paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The boss seized Phil in another painful handshake. He caught Phil glancing over his shoulder at the window.
  The boss threw his mug aside. Beads of sweat poured down Rosenquist's face. He released Phil and grabbed his chest.
  Rosenquist lurched forward. Phil moved to catch the toppling executive. Rosenquist was heavier than Phil expected and they ended up on the floor together, the boss on top. Phil had trouble breathing, and it wasn't just the weight bearing down on him. The pair of hands wrapped around his throat had something to do with it, too. Phil gasped for a few strangled gulps of air as he stared into Rosenquist's bloodshot, twitching eyes.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the last five paragraphs.. End with the sentence ' Just watching.'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: She chuckled. "Wasn't talking about the puff. It's just... well, I never thought we'd be hobnobbing with gods. And liking it."
  Lucky, in Bermuda shorts, lounged on the ethereal beach. The silver sand reflected the three moons hanging overhead.
  The waiter brought Lucky the drinks just as Janet, clad in a bikini, emerged from the ocean. Lucky tossed her a towel.
  He nodded. The Beaches of Eternity had become a little too rowdy. Gods and demigods pranced across the sands in drunken partying. Dionysus noisily ralphed into a trash can less than twenty feet away. And the hotel didn't even have cable.
  Syph hid just down the beach, lurking behind an umbrella. She'd been less insistent lately, less obvious. Perhaps it was her continuing inability to inflict any harm on Janet. Or perhaps it was the demands of her new temple. Either way, she was still a semi-regular presence lurking in the background of their lives. Never interfering. Never getting too close. Just watching.