conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What could be a title for a book about with the genre: Literature & Fiction, Erotica?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: A title for this book could be 'Dreamwalker'
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Do you know a description for a book titled Dreamwalker about Jessica, Jessicas, Drake with the genre: Literature & Fiction, Genre Fiction?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Like most teens, 16-year-old Jessica Drake really just wants to be normal, but a lifetime of vivid, unsettling dreams and a fractured family set her apart in the authors somewhat tame yet promising entry into the paranormal YA world. When Jessica was a child, her father abandoned the family and told Jessica he wasnt really her father. Despite her mothers reassurances otherwise, Jessicas world is shattered when a DNA test comes back revealing she is unrelated biologically to both her father and mother. Jessicas journey toward the truth really begins when her gamer younger brother, Tommy, is kidnapped, and she attempts to find him. Parallel worlds, alternate dimensions, freewheeling fantastical ideas (including dinosaurs as pets for the elite), and the promise of more books in this open-ended series should attract the attention of readers who usually read in this genre. Existing the author fans would do well to note that this is a departure from her usual fare and should go into it expecting something different yet perhaps quite appealing. --Julie Trevelyan
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Like most teens, 16-year-old Jessica Drake really just wants to be normal, but a lifetime of vivid, unsettling dreams and a fractured family set her apart in the authors somewhat tame yet promising entry into the paranormal YA world. When Jessica was a child, her father abandoned the family and told Jessica he wasnt really her father. Despite her mothers reassurances otherwise, Jessicas world is shattered when a DNA test comes back revealing she is unrelated biologically to both her father and mother. Jessicas journey toward the truth really begins when her gamer younger brother, Tommy, is kidnapped, and she attempts to find him. Parallel worlds, alternate dimensions, freewheeling fantastical ideas (including dinosaurs as pets for the elite), and the promise of more books in this open-ended series should attract the attention of readers who usually read in this genre. Existing the author fans would do well to note that this is a departure from her usual fare and should go into it expecting something different yet perhaps quite appealing.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Do you know a description for a book titled Dreamwalker about Green, Hills, Literary with the genre: Science Fiction & Fantasy, Fantasy?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: the author has been featured in numerous publications such as Green Hills Literary Lantern, Westview, and Kimera. She has written over twenty novels in numerous genres. Her first chapbook of poetry, A Different Song, was published by Rose Rock Press in 1999. She is a high school teacher and lives in Oklahoma with husband and three children.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Do you know the first five paragraphs for this book?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Dreamwalker
  The Shadow's lips tightened but he said nothing. Clearly he was not about to discuss the business of his secretive Guild with outsiders.
  Two dozen visitors. It wasn't beyond the capacity of the grey man's operation, but it would certainly strain his resources. "Will there be children in the group?"
  It was rumored that the operator responsible for that incident had been reassigned to a mosquito-laden swamp in the middle of nowhere, which might or might not be true. No one had heard from him for a long time.
  The grey man flushed. "Forgive me, my Lord. I just... I just want to make sure everything goes smoothly."
  The grey man bit his lip and said nothing. It had taken him years to accumulate enough seniority to be assigned to this prestigious post, but he knew that he could lose it all in a heartbeat. Rivalry within his Guild was fierce, and the displeasure of a Shadowlord could impact who was promoted... or demoted. If anything went wrong at this facility he might well find himself assigned to some dreadful backwater, where the locals hadn't worked out the basics of personal hygiene yet.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Do you know five more paragraphs?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Suddenly the Asian boy had a knife in his hand. I saw Rita stiffen in readiness, and I wondered how fast I could get to my own knife. Or if I could bring myself to use it on a living person. High school doesn't exactly prepare you for that kind of thing.
  A distant part of my brain registered that this was actually a good sign. If these kids hated the Shadows so much that they'd kill anyone who cooperated with them, they might prove valuable allies. Assuming, of course, that we could win them over before they stabbed us to death.
  You could see them all looking at each other, but in the dim light it was hard to read their expressions.
  A girl who'd been silent up to that point, snorted lightly; strands of dirty shoulder-length hair bobbed about her thin and hungry face. "If you'd sneaked across twice you wouldn't need to ask that."
  Our guide's jaw flexed slightly as he digested the information. It was as though he was actually chewing on our words, tasting them. Clearly this new revelation surprised him, but not as much as you'd think. Evidently the concept of someone from another world showing up on his doorstep was not as alien to him as one would expect.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Do you know the last five paragraphs?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: At first glance it looked like North America. But it wasn't the North America I had studied in high school. This one had had no United States of America in it. Instead there was something called The United Colonies of New Britannia, that stretched from Florida up into Canada. Even the states had different borders than in our world, and some of them had different names altogether. And there were a lot fewer Indian names, I noticed. No Roanoke, no Chesapeake, no Shenandoah Valley.
  I spent so long studying the unfamiliar political entities that I almost missed a tiny note scrawled at the bottom of the paper. The writing was smooth and elegant, in the same cursive form that you see in 18th century documents. I smoothed out the paper so I could read the words clearly.
  He was right because Rita might still be alive somewhere, and we'd never know peace of mind until we found out what had happened to her. He was right because we'd just destroyed a Gate belonging to a powerful Guildmaster, and if my dreams reflected even a fraction of what had really happened to him as a result of that, Devon and I were the top two names on his shit list. He was right because Isaac's Shadow buddies now had Devon's cell phone, which meant they could now access a host of his personal information, as well as the names and numbers of his friends. No one we cared about was safe.
  Somewhere on that other world was the woman who had given birth to me and then abandoned me. And she was the only one who could teach me about the Gift that was in my blood.
  I stared at the map in silence for a long, long while. I didn't have to look at Devon to know that he'd come to the same conclusion I had. Or that he didn't like it any more than I did.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Do you know the first five paragraphs for this book?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Dreamwalker
  As they started to bind the boy down, the full horror of his situation finally broke through his drugged stupor, and he began to struggle wildly. But whatever drug they had given him had sapped all the strength from his limbs, and with practiced efficiency one of the men held him down while the other fastened shackles about his wrists and ankles. Then chains were stretched across his body and hooked in place, binding him down so tightly to the cold stone surface that he could do little more than twitch desperately. Only his head could move freely, and he whipped it back and forth as he searched the room for... what, exactly? Sympathy? Hope? There was no mercy to be found in this crowd.
  The woman began to chant in a tongue that Isaac did not understand. It sounded ancient. The man in black raised up the knife and presented it to her over the boy's bound body. Seeing the blade, the boy began to struggle even more desperately, looking feverishly around the room, desperate for anything that could save him—
  Now the chanting changed to English, and Isaac heard poetic promises about how the boy's soul would find refuge in eternal service, would have this Shadowlord's undying protection, how death was a blessing. Pure bullshit. The Shadowlords didn't give a damn about whether their slave spirits were happy.
  Jacob's eyelids began to droop as the last of his life drained out of his veins. The Shadowlord in black retrieved the collection bowl from the end of the table and handed it to the woman. The blood within it contained the spark of the boy's life, Isaac knew, and at the moment of death it could be used to bind his spirit. Isaac was no longer trying to look away from Jacob, but willingly held his gaze for as long as the bloodshot eyes were still open. At least he could give him that much, so that he didn't have to die alone. The contact seemed to steady the boy a bit... or perhaps he was simply too weak to struggle any more. Then the woman sipped from the bowl of blood, and Isaac could sense a connection being established between the two of them. When the boy's spirit left its body it would discover it was tethered to this woman, unable to leave her side for as long as that blood was in her system. If she could establish mental control over him before it was gone, he would never be able to leave her.
  That's what all the torture was about, Isaac realized. To shatter the boy's mind, so that once he died it would be easier for a Shadowlord to take control of him.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Do you know four more paragraphs?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The brown eyes widened in surprise. "Oh my God! Is he okay?" A tentative smile lit her face. "Where is he?"
  He'd braced himself for a display of sorrow, but the spark of joy in her eyes was unexpected and surprisingly painful. "I'm a Shadow," he said gently. "Remember what our Gift is."
  The smile vanished. The moment of joy faded from her eyes, and fear took its place. "You... you speak to the dead," she whispered.
  He nodded. What pain there was in her expression now, what raw emotion! No one in Isaac's Guild would ever display their feelings like this, no matter how much they hurt inside. He stared at her in fascination, as if she were some kind of exotic animal.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Reverse the sentences.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: He stared at her in fascination, as if she were some kind of exotic animal.. What pain there was in her expression now, what raw emotion! No one in Isaac's Guild would ever display their feelings like this, no matter how much they hurt inside.
  He nodded. you speak to the dead," she whispered... "You. The moment of joy faded from her eyes, and fear took its place."
  The smile vanished. "Remember what our Gift is. "I'm a Shadow," he said gently. "Where is he?"
  He'd braced himself for a display of sorrow, but the spark of joy in her eyes was unexpected and surprisingly painful. "Oh my God! Is he okay?" A tentative smile lit her face.The brown eyes widened in surprise
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Do you know the last five paragraphs?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The new Guildmaster studied him for a moment, then finally nodded his approval and placed the fetter back in its box. "I hereby return to you the title that you bestowed upon me, and all the duties and honors of that rank." He nodded to the Shadows who had bound Virilian. "Release the Guildmaster."
  One by one they removed the straps, setting him free. He lay still for a minute, gathering his strength, then rose to a sitting position. His body was marked with welts from the leather straps, and blood streaked his flesh and clothing. Brushing aside any offer of assistance, he slid down from the table and stood barefoot on the cold stone floor. The Shadow who had been holding his robe stepped forward and helped him into it. The folds of thick grey fabric hid the blood and injuries of his Communion, restoring him to an aspect of regal dignity.
  The ritualist nodded and circled the room once more, tracing the patterns that would undo their banishment. Spirits began to flow back into the room, their agitated murmurs tainted with fear. Most kept their distance from Virilian.
  Raising up his arms, the Guildmaster shut his eyes for a moment, focusing his Gift. Then he cried out, "Come to me, servants of Shekarchiyandar. Your creator walks the earth again, and he has need of you."
  A shadow began to shape before him, that was the size and shape of a man, but not a man. It had the aspect of a spirit, but it was not a spirit. Ribbons of emptiness coiled about it like serpents, momentarily obscuring the terrifying Void that was its very core. When the manifestation was complete, a second shadow began to take shape beside it. And then a third. Seven appeared in all, and the force of their combined presence was so compelling that some of the Shadowlords instinctively backed away, sensing in these wraiths something darker than they could ever hope to control.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Swap the first and the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Seven appeared in all, and the force of their combined presence was so compelling that some of the Shadowlords instinctively backed away, sensing in these wraiths something darker than they could ever hope to control. "I hereby return to you the title that you bestowed upon me, and all the duties and honors of that rank." He nodded to the Shadows who had bound Virilian. "Release the Guildmaster."
  One by one they removed the straps, setting him free. He lay still for a minute, gathering his strength, then rose to a sitting position. His body was marked with welts from the leather straps, and blood streaked his flesh and clothing. Brushing aside any offer of assistance, he slid down from the table and stood barefoot on the cold stone floor. The Shadow who had been holding his robe stepped forward and helped him into it. The folds of thick grey fabric hid the blood and injuries of his Communion, restoring him to an aspect of regal dignity.
  The ritualist nodded and circled the room once more, tracing the patterns that would undo their banishment. Spirits began to flow back into the room, their agitated murmurs tainted with fear. Most kept their distance from Virilian.
  Raising up his arms, the Guildmaster shut his eyes for a moment, focusing his Gift. Then he cried out, "Come to me, servants of Shekarchiyandar. Your creator walks the earth again, and he has need of you."
  A shadow began to shape before him, that was the size and shape of a man, but not a man. It had the aspect of a spirit, but it was not a spirit. Ribbons of emptiness coiled about it like serpents, momentarily obscuring the terrifying Void that was its very core. When the manifestation was complete, a second shadow began to take shape beside it. And then a third.The new Guildmaster studied him for a moment, then finally nodded his approval and placed the fetter back in its box.