conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me a description for a book titled At Your Pleasure about Rich, Book, Reviews with the genre: Romance, Historical.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: "The unusual setting and fascinating historical backdrop immediately set the author's latest novel apart; then she adds in-depth characterization, intrigue and passion, drawing readers straight into her unforgettable romance. Rich in texture and color, detailed and absorbing, here is a novel to sink your teeth into." -- RT Book Reviews (A "Top Pick")
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the first five paragraphs for this book.. Start with the sentence 'At Your Pleasure
  Sign up for our newsletter and receive special offers, access to bonus content, and info on the latest new releases and other great Pocket Star Books from Simon & Schuster'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: At Your Pleasure
  Sign up for our newsletter and receive special offers, access to bonus content, and info on the latest new releases and other great Pocket Star Books from Simon & Schuster.
  When Queen Anne died, in 1714, the English crown passed to her second cousin, George of Hanover, who had been born and raised in what is now Germany. (Anne's half brother, James Stuart, was not eligible to inherit the throne because of his Catholic faith.) The accession of George I was marked by a dramatic shift in political power. The long-reigning Tory party saw many of its greatest leaders arrested and forced from office, and in the general elections that followed, the Whigs assumed almost complete control of the government.
  Believing that their faith, powers, and privileges were threatened by the new king and his allies, many English Tories decided to take up the Jacobite cause and champion James Stuart's claim to the throne. Across England, 1715 was a year marked by treasonous rumors, riots, and repressions... and, ultimately, war.
  Adrian had abandoned the lathered horse a mile behind. He ran now, his feet no sooner striking the ground than lifting again, all his instincts and memories combining to aid him, directing him sure-footedly and safely over the darkened field where he had played as a boy and later loved her as a man.
  The lights of Hodderby, which had flickered in the distance for long minutes, grew brighter. He could see now the draperies thrown back, the windows blazing like torches. Behind them moved darkened shapes, perhaps looking out, one of them Nora: she was watching for him. She was strong. She would hold out. He would not be too late.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me three more paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: A snort came from Henslow's direction. The boy's good eye narrowed. "Oh? I suppose you have some proof?"
  When the following silence made it obvious that he did not intend to share this proof, Lord John colored. Adrian could see the wheels of his mind turning, directing him back to the night he had passed unconscious—a night that might well have counted as proof, had the cause of it not been dismissed as spoiled food.
  The boy was damnably green. His own manner had alienated those who otherwise might have agreed with him.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Swap the first and the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: His own manner had alienated those who otherwise might have agreed with him. The boy's good eye narrowed. "Oh? I suppose you have some proof?"
  When the following silence made it obvious that he did not intend to share this proof, Lord John colored. Adrian could see the wheels of his mind turning, directing him back to the night he had passed unconscious—a night that might well have counted as proof, had the cause of it not been dismissed as spoiled food.
  The boy was damnably green.A snort came from Henslow's direction.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the last four paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Had she caught fire, he could not have been more bewildered. He did not deserve this kiss. His grip went slack.
  She stepped into him. The tight, hot grasp of her hands fell from his hair to his nape, to the breadth of his shoulders. She kissed clumsily, with the same blunt, aggravating enthusiasm, the same desperate fumbling hope, that he had wanted to punish with this lesson: this lesson in disappointment.
  But this did not feel like disappointment. She was warm and impossibly, miraculously tall. The angles and swells of her body matched perfectly to his, her breasts crushing into his chest, her waist—his baffled hand fell there—sweetly curved. She smelled like the garden in summer; she kissed his neck and her hair came into his nose, flowers and greenery, fresh and young.
  Sign up for our newsletter and receive special offers, access to bonus content, and info on the latest new releases and other great Pocket Star Books from Simon & Schuster.