conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me a description for a book titled Reich of Passage about Zondervan, Award, Press with the genre: Mystery, Thriller & Suspense, Thrillers & Suspense.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: the author has authored more than sixty titles in the past two and half decades. Zondervan launched Ace's career in fiction, releasing two books in 2009 and another two in 2010. Ace has won numerous awards for his writing including three Golden Quills, an America's Writing Award, and the Angel of Excellence Award. He has written for a wide variety of publishers including St. Martin's Press, Viking-Penguin, Putnam, Harper-the author, Thomas Nelson, Word, Zondervan, and the Chicago Review Press. In the course of his writing, he has also penned more than 2,000 magazine features for the likes of People, Us, Texas Monthly, Plus Magazine, and Guideposts. He has made scores of television guest appearances including Good Morning America, The Today Show, CBS This Morning, CNN, Fox and Friends, The NBC Nightly News, and Entertainment Tonight. Two of his books have been made into network TV specials.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the first five paragraphs for this book.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Reich of Passage
  Blane got up from the kitchen chair and walked back into the living room. He looked at the pictures of his old friend one by one. The shots hanging on the walls showed Mitchell in every stage of his life. The agent was examining one taken a few years before he died, a shot showing him holding a huge catfish, when he heard Grace's voice behind him.
  Grace sat down in the rocker, her eyes seemingly thousands of miles away. And then without breaking from her trance, she asked, "What are you going to do?"
  Blane considered the offer for a moment and then shook his head. "Not me. They're looking for my face everywhere. I would be taken out before I got in the door. But Tell and Jean could probably get away with it. No one's looking for them now. I have Tell's number here on my cell. I'll write it down for you. But don't call them until I have been gone for at least forty-eight hours. And if there is any way you can call from a phone other than your own, it would probably be best. Because of the huge operation they had just down your road, they might've tapped your phone. Probably everyone else's in this area as well."
  Stopping and glancing back over his shoulder, the agent smiled and took a final look into her gold-green eyes before walking out into the afternoon sun.
  ERIC VAN RESTER WAS STILL REELING FROM THE CHEWING OUT HE HAD received five days before. Van Rester had taken Schluter's verbal abuse because he had no choice, but it had still angered him greatly. He had done exactly as he had been asked. He had assigned two men to watch Boyer's apartment. The two were to report the writer's movements, which his men had done, and he had then passed information on to Schluter. He was not in charge of what happened at the hotel and knew nothing about that plan in advance, so the fact that Boyer and Blane had slipped through the net should not have set him up for a fall. But in spite of his having worked with the big man since 1932, when both were just being initiated into the Nazi movement, the hammer had fallen hard on him. Almost a week later, Schluter's final words still burned in his ears.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me five more paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Gladys looked again at the young lady sitting just a foot in front of her. She said, "Could I ask you a question?"
  Gladys paused, shook her head, and once more studied the woman's face. She again reached for her makeup pencil, but this time her hand was no longer steady. It was trembling. Unable to stop the shaking, she set the pencil back down again, took a deep breath, and whispered, "You can't be her, but you are."
  No one in the room said anything as three sets of eyes and ears waited for the rest of Gladys's story.
  Again, no one said a word. As the woman took time to get her thoughts together, Harlow, Boyer, and Grace simply sat like stones, barely breathing.
  Gladys stepped back and studied Harlow's face one more time before continuing her story. "I only worked with her once, only saw her a couple more times on the lot. I shouldn't have had any emotional ties to her. But when I heard she was in the hospital and was very, very ill, I couldn't sleep or eat. And when she died, I felt as if a lot of joy and beauty that was Hollywood, and maybe even the world, died too. I know it's stupid, but I watched one of her movies last week on television and cried. The movie was a comedy, but whenever I think of the Baby, I cry, because a part of me died when she did. And I barely knew her, but the face..."
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Swap the first and the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: ". She said, "Could I ask you a question?"
  Gladys paused, shook her head, and once more studied the woman's face. She again reached for her makeup pencil, but this time her hand was no longer steady. It was trembling. Unable to stop the shaking, she set the pencil back down again, took a deep breath, and whispered, "You can't be her, but you are."
  No one in the room said anything as three sets of eyes and ears waited for the rest of Gladys's story.
  Again, no one said a word. As the woman took time to get her thoughts together, Harlow, Boyer, and Grace simply sat like stones, barely breathing.
  Gladys stepped back and studied Harlow's face one more time before continuing her story. "I only worked with her once, only saw her a couple more times on the lot. I shouldn't have had any emotional ties to her. But when I heard she was in the hospital and was very, very ill, I couldn't sleep or eat. And when she died, I felt as if a lot of joy and beauty that was Hollywood, and maybe even the world, died too. I know it's stupid, but I watched one of her movies last week on television and cried. The movie was a comedy, but whenever I think of the Baby, I cry, because a part of me died when she did. And I barely knew her, but the face...Gladys looked again at the young lady sitting just a foot in front of her.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the last five paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: For a few moments, no one said anything. In fact, no one moved. Finally, it was Harlow who noted the obvious.
  Boyer and Harlow rushed past the dead German to greet their friend. The group hug went on for several moments. As they finally stepped away, the woman took another look at Schluter and made a suggestion.
  After they accomplished their mission, Blane and Boyer joined Harlow on the front porch. With the sounds of the waters of Spring River offering an incredibly peaceful background, the trio just stared at each other for what seemed like a month of Sundays before Blane finally broke the silence.
  Reaching into his pocket, Tell Boyer pulled out his cell phone. Flipping it open, he punched in a number he figured he would never again use. When he heard a voice, the writer looked first at Blane, and then over to Harlow, smiled, and began talking.
  A grinning Boyer paused again to listen and then added, "Oh, and Mr. President, please send along a body bag. Another Nazi died today. And like all the others, his death was seventy years too late."