conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me a description for a story titled The Boylan House Trilogy about div, quot;I, R.</div with the genre: Literature & Fiction, Genre Fiction.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: <div> <div> &quot;I love watching horror movies but I did not expect that reading can be more scary than watching!&quot; - Wilma R.</div> <div> </div> <div> &quot;NOT expecting that!&quot; - JF</div> <div> </div> <div> &quot;Great Read! Stephen King look out!&quot; - Linda P.</div> <div> </div> <div> &quot;Loved this story!&quot; - Stacey B.</div> <div> </div> <div> <div> &quot;I couldn&apos;t put it down!&quot; - Heaven R.</div> <div> </div> <div> &quot;Very creepy villain...I couldn&apos;t wait to see what it was after the ending in story one...Loved it!&quot; - Jess G.</div> </div> <div> <div> </div> <div> &quot;The pace is very well maintained throughout and the suspenseful buildup was very well done!&quot; - Phoenix</div> <div> </div> <div> &quot;Full of surprises. Loved it!&quot; - Patty</div> <div> </div> <div> <div> &quot;I enjoyed it very much. It is gory, and disturbing, but it is also a fresh twist on the haunted house and people disappearing in the vicinity. The characters were well written, and the pacing was quick.&quot; - Carolyn E.</div> <div> </div> <div> &quot;Creative and well written. The flow and authors style gave me a vivid image of all main characters and kept me engulfed in the story, so much that closing the story to continue the next day was a disappointment.&quot; - Reader</div> <div> </div> <div> &quot;Favorite trilogy ever!!! Make this into a movie. Amazing!!!&quot; - Megan R.</div> <div> </div> <div> &quot;Don&apos;t miss this one!!! Creepy, scary and just a great story line. Absolutely loved the characters. Kept me hooked till the end. WOW!  -  Mac</div></div></div></div>
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the first three paragraphs for this story.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Boylan House Trilogy
  The next page proved to be a table of contents. Mason read the individual titles, which ranged from the mystery of a mountain lion to the local cemetery being haunted by Revolutionary War soldiers. But a title near the bottom of the list, caught Mason's eye.
  Mason reached out, took the edge of the pastedown, and pulled it, ever so gently. It came away easily. Mason saw nothing except old Scotch tape that was much yellowed and folded over to be made two-sided. Still moving carefully though, Mason eased the pastedown away, soon revealing a small envelope. Mason slipped the envelope out of the curious pocket which had held it.
  The envelope lacked an address. But it had a date written neatly in script across the center of the envelope. January 1st, 1947.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me four more paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: He breathed a little easier even as they stepped out into a small glade, a wide stream running through it, twisting away beneath thick bushes. The stream was silent. The howls of agony from the two natives were not.
  Stathi's mind was in a fog as he stepped into the glade behind Mason. He had spent the short time that they traveled through the woods praying fiercely. He had prayed to the Holy Mother, to God, to the Son, to the Saints and the Martyrs. He had prayed to them all in an attempt to silence the horrific sounds which had assaulted him.
  Crucified between many of the trees were young, teenage boys. They were all natives. All of them eviscerated. Each wore an expression of absolute terror upon their young faces. Each too, had been neatly scalped, the job expertly done. Yet perhaps the most disturbing was the fact that the genitals of each were missing.
  With a final, combined voice filled with pure rage, the two native men raced across the stream, following the trail and vanished from view.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the last five paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Jack took a step forward, looking around, his headlamp filling the room. There was no window, just stone walls and thick wooden beams, different from the rest of the basement. The heating pipes ran into the room for a few feet before turning up and into a hole in the beams and disappearing into the wall above them.
  The floor, like the first part of the room, was dirt, yet there was a difference. Set into the dirt were nine stones, all flat, each of them engraved.
  After a moment, Jack said, "Hey, would you mind if I snapped some pictures? Nobody is going to believe me without proof."
  Brian laughed, shaking his head. "Knock yourself out, kid. I've got to go lay into my real estate agent."
  Sign up for the mailing list on our site to download Sherman's Library Trilogy in 3 formats, get FREE short stories, and receive future discounts: www.ScareStreet.com/RonRipley