conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Do you know a description for a book titled Donna Kauffman(Blue Hollow Falls) about Virginia, USA, Today with the genre: Literature & Fiction, Genre Fiction?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: the author is the USA Today and Wall Street Journal bestselling author of over 70 novels, translated and sold in more than 26 countries around the world. She is the recipient of multiple RT Book Awards, a RITAfinalist, a National Readers Choice Award-winner, and a PRISMAward-winner. Born into the maelstrom of Washington, D.C.s politics, she now lives in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia surrounded by a completely different kind of wildlife. A contributing blogger for USAToday.com, she is also a DIYer, a baker, a gardener, and a volunteer transporter for the Wildlife Center of Virginia and Rockfish Sanctuary. Please visit her online atwww.Donnathe author.com.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Do you know the first five paragraphs for this book? End with the sentence '"'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Donna Kauffman
  Lani smiled, but that twinkle was still there. "I know." She lifted a hand to stall whatever else Kit might say. "Like I said, we don't think we'll be ready by then, but I'd like us to have a solid opening date to promote, if nothing else. We were hoping by the first of June."
  Kit hadn't even thought about accommodations. She hadn't been sure she wouldn't already be making the long trip back to Atlanta. "Oh, that's gracious of you, but I—you don't need to do that. As for dinner, I'd like that very much, but—"
  Kit laughed. "Actually, I know a little bit about that. Mamie Sue's was it's own small world. A village unto itself. We had families, generations of them, in fact, who'd worked for the company from the early days onward." Her smile faltered, turned poignant. "I miss that part the most."
  Lani's smile shifted, too, then faded. "I'm so sorry. I can't imagine how hard that has been on you."
  Lani blushed, laughing at the same time. "Yeah, I keep forgetting people outside Sugarberry Island know all that. I want to let you know I realize this isn't where you'd choose to be, that if you could, you'd be running the pie empire built by the Bellamy women, equally legendary in their own way. I know it's all still fresh, the loss. The timing might not be exactly what you wanted. All I can tell you is that you feel like the perfect fit to me. You just need to figure out if we're the perfect fit for you."
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Do you know five more paragraphs?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: He shook his head. "I was wondering if maybe one of our new traditions might be Chinese carry-out on Thank s giving." He grinned. "We just got unpacked. Seems like a bad idea to risk burning the place down so soon."
  She laughed. "Yes, well, when you put it like that, a chopstick Thanksgiving starts to sound like the wiser approach." She gave him a considering look. "How are you with canned cranberry sauce?"
  When the silence lingered for a few seconds, then a few seconds more, during which they just seemed to get more tangled up in each other's gazes, she finally found her voice. "But don't feel you have to—"
  She remembered being wrapped up against that broad chest of his, how sturdy and solid he'd felt, and how gently he'd comforted her. She couldn't look at his hands without remembering how his wide palm felt, cupping her cheek. Or how good it felt to hear his deep voice, soothing her, encouraging her.
  He'd made her feel stronger, rather than weak and wimpy. It should have been awkward, if not in the moment itself, surely afterward, but... it hadn't been. At all. Quite the opposite.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: He shook his head. "I was wondering if maybe one of our new traditions might be Chinese carry-out on Thank s giving." He grinned. "We just got unpacked. Seems like a bad idea to risk burning the place down so soon."
  She laughed. "Yes, well, when you put it like that, a chopstick Thanksgiving starts to sound like the wiser approach." She gave him a considering look. "How are you with canned cranberry sauce?"
  When the silence lingered for a few seconds, then a few seconds more, during which they just seemed to get more tangled up in each other's gazes, she finally found her voice. "But don't feel you have to—"
  She remembered being wrapped up against that broad chest of his, how sturdy and solid he'd felt, and how gently he'd comforted her. She couldn't look at his hands without remembering how his wide palm felt, cupping her cheek. Or how good it felt to hear his deep voice, soothing her, encouraging her.
  He'd made her feel stronger, rather than weak and wimpy. It should have been awkward, if not in the moment itself, surely afterward, but... it hadn't been. At all.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Do you know the last five paragraphs?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Given her random commentary, his concern wasn't the least bit surprising. It was an easy out that a lesser woman might have taken. No one had ever accused her, however, of being lesser. Too much, maybe. All right, definitely.
  She couldn't lose any more of her pride, however. That was all gone. She rubbed her dirty, still-sweaty palm on her pant leg, then took the offered hand, steeling her already fluttering hormones against the feel of his skin on hers. Not that she was normally so overwrought about such things, but, at the moment, her defenses were abnormally low. As in, completely missing.
  He lifted her overly tall, less-than-lithe form out of the tangle of deadly blades as if she were nothing more cumbersome than a downy little feather. She'd never once been accused of being a feather. Of any kind. She had to admit, it felt rather... blissful. So much so, that, if he'd asked her, she'd have happily agreed to strip naked, have his babies, or anything else he wanted, right there. On the evil Jog Master, even.
  Not that it mattered. Even if she had somehow managed to look adorably spunky and utterly charming despite the scratched-up flesh and blotchy red face, she'd sworn off men. Nineteen months, ten days, and dozens of cupcakes ago.
  Not that all men were stupid, lying, cheating, ex-fiancé bastards like Jeremy. She knew that. And she hadn't held his actions against the rest of the male members of the human race. Most of the time. But given how thoroughly and completely duped and humiliated she'd been by the one person from that part of the population she'd most trusted with her deepest, truest self, not to mention all of her carefully guarded heart... yeah, she wasn't in a mad rush to find out if her judgment in that arena had improved. Hence the switch to baked goods for personal comfort.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Do you know the first five paragraphs for this book?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Donna Kauffman
  Addie's entire countenance crumpled. "Oh, honey," she said, devastated. She just reached right over and wrapped Hannah up in a surprisingly strong hug. "I didn't know," she said. She held on for a good long while, and when she finally let go, they both had damp eyes. "I'd have never..." She broke off, shook her head. "I'm a foolish old woman. I thought you'd both lost a spouse. It just made perfect sense... and you hit it off so well with Jacob, and—" Her expression went slack again as an additional wave of guilt washed over her.
  Addie wiped her eyes, then finally withdrew a hankie she'd had tucked in one of the many pockets of the cutoff canvas coveralls she wore that day. She blew her nose rather noisily, which made Hannah's expression warm even further. Now it was her turn to pat Addie's arm. "I didn't mean to upset you, but I thought, given everything we're talking about here, that you should know. It's okay to be sad, but he was a great kid, so I try to think of how he'd love something, instead of how much I miss him not getting to see it or do it. You know? He'd have loved the Falls and would have talked your ear off. "I can't..." She didn't finish, shook her head again, then put her hand on Hannah's arm and held on this time. Finally she made a little sound of disgust and said, "Here I barge into your day with all these grand plans of mine, certain I'm going to save the world, or a small part of it anyway, and instead I drag you through—" She broke off. "Now I'm blubbering all over the place and you're the one giving comfort."
  Addie's voice was a bit throaty. "As I said, I can see Will is making strides, and I couldn't help but notice that you seem to be a part of that. I'll apologize for sticking my nose in, but I saw the two of you in the parking area at your party the other day. The way you were looking at each other... maybe I drew the wrong conclusions."
  Hannah laughed at that even as she dried the last of the dampness from her eyes. "I think we can all claim doltishness on our personal resume. I should probably just call him. It's silly that I haven't. I just... he was the one who asked me out—so I thought he should do the calling, you know?"
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Add another sentence about Addie, sniffled, nodded.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Donna Kauffman
  Addie's entire countenance crumpled. "Oh, honey," she said, devastated. She just reached right over and wrapped Hannah up in a surprisingly strong hug. "I didn't know," she said. She held on for a good long while, and when she finally let go, they both had damp eyes. "I'd have never... " She broke off, shook her head. "I'm a foolish old woman. I thought you'd both lost a spouse. It just made perfect sense... and you hit it off so well with Jacob, and—" Her expression went slack again as an additional wave of guilt washed over her. 
  Addie wiped her eyes, then finally withdrew a hankie she'd had tucked in one of the many pockets of the cutoff canvas coveralls she wore that day. She blew her nose rather noisily, which made Hannah's expression warm even further. Now it was her turn to pat Addie's arm. "I didn't mean to upset you, but I thought, given everything we're talking about here, that you should know. It's okay to be sad, but he was a great kid, so I try to think of how he'd love something, instead of how much I miss him not getting to see it or do it. You know? He'd have loved the Falls and would have talked your ear off. "
  Addie sniffled rather inelegantly and nodded. "I can't... " She didn't finish, shook her head again, then put her hand on Hannah's arm and held on this time. Finally she made a little sound of disgust and said, "Here I barge into your day with all these grand plans of mine, certain I'm going to save the world, or a small part of it anyway, and instead I drag you through—" She broke off. "Now I'm blubbering all over the place and you're the one giving comfort. "
  Addie's voice was a bit throaty. "As I said, I can see Will is making strides, and I couldn't help but notice that you seem to be a part of that. I'll apologize for sticking my nose in, but I saw the two of you in the parking area at your party the other day. The way you were looking at each other... maybe I drew the wrong conclusions. "
  Hannah laughed at that even as she dried the last of the dampness from her eyes. "I think we can all claim doltishness on our personal resume. I should probably just call him. It's silly that I haven't. I just... he was the one who asked me out—so I thought he should do the calling, you know?"
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Do you know four more paragraphs? Start with the sentence 'Chey nodded'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Chey nodded. "True enough. In this case, I was sixteen and so full of myself. I'd spent the previous half dozen years trying to straight-out scare every boy I knew, so hell-bent on proving to myself and them that I'd earned my place on the circuit. But, boy, sixteen hit, and those hormones surged on up and suddenly all those obnoxious boys of my youth were the sexy-as-hell bad boys I wanted to be with in my future."
  Hannah laughed. "I think we can all identify with that, but given the kind of testosterone they must have had to do what they did for a living?" She fanned herself and fluttered her lashes. "My, my."
  Chey shook her head. "No, not at all. I had a really good friend in those days, who happened to be a guy. To me he was like another brother, only one I didn't feel like punching every other minute. I mean, I loved my brother and God help anyone who tried to step in between us or so much as look at him sideways. We had each other's back at all times. But that didn't mean we didn't squabble like squirrels caught in a blender."
  Hannah walked over to the closed stall door and leaned on it. "What happened to him? To Wyatt. Do you know where he is today?"
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Do you know the last five paragraphs?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Bree had long thought it was a marvelous thing, being even a small part of one of the most important, magical moments in a person's life. She wondered what it would be like when it was her turn.
  But Sophia had already stepped past her granddaughter and was waving for the gentleman to join them in the back. "Come in, come in," Sophia said. "I'm so glad you could stop by."
  Confused now, Bree turned as a tall man with a shock of dark curls, each one seeming to have a mind of its own, stepped fully into the kitchen. He had a lean build and wore a tweed jacket and pale green button-down, over casual khaki trousers. It wasn't until he glanced at Bree and nodded that she noticed he wore glasses. Glasses that framed maybe the softest blue eyes she'd ever seen. She'd never thought of blue as a warm color until that moment. In fact, she felt all kinds of warmth when a slow, almost shy smile curved his lips. Which was odd, because he wasn't the type that typically caught her eye.
  She realized she was curling her fingers into the palm of her hand against the sudden desire she had to walk over and sink them into the riot of black silk and see if those curls of his felt as glossy as they looked. That made no sense at all. She wasn't normally a fan of wild manes and shy, bespectacled smiles, either.
  Bree looked from the man to her grandmother. What was she up to now? Bree groaned silently and hoped this was not her grandmother's latest setup for a date.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Bree had long thought it was a marvelous thing, being even a small part of one of the most important, magical moments in a person's life. She wondered what it would be like when it was her turn.
  But Sophia had already stepped past her granddaughter and was waving for the gentleman to join them in the back. "Come in, come in," Sophia said. "I'm so glad you could stop by."
  Confused now, Bree turned as a tall man with a shock of dark curls, each one seeming to have a mind of its own, stepped fully into the kitchen. He had a lean build and wore a tweed jacket and pale green button-down, over casual khaki trousers. It wasn't until he glanced at Bree and nodded that she noticed he wore glasses. Glasses that framed maybe the softest blue eyes she'd ever seen. She'd never thought of blue as a warm color until that moment. In fact, she felt all kinds of warmth when a slow, almost shy smile curved his lips. Which was odd, because he wasn't the type that typically caught her eye.
  She realized she was curling her fingers into the palm of her hand against the sudden desire she had to walk over and sink them into the riot of black silk and see if those curls of his felt as glossy as they looked. That made no sense at all. She wasn't normally a fan of wild manes and shy, bespectacled smiles, either.
  Bree looked from the man to her grandmother.