conversations.from: human
conversations.value: a description for a book titled A Rare Chance about Harriet, Klausner, Affaire with the genre: Literature & Fiction, United States
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Harriet Klausner Affaire de Coeur  A Rare Chance is a rare find, an exciting tale of romantic suspense that has Ms. the author' trademark New England flavor and sardonic wit woven into every page. This is one novel it would be a shame to miss reading.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: the first paragraph for this book
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: A Rare Chance
  Cam nodded, not giving in to the urge to delay her. He needed distance. He couldn't get it with her near, with her very much under his skin. He followed her to the door, meaning only to see her out. Instead, he found himself staring into her eyes as if he were at the edge of a bottomless pit, ready to jump.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: five more paragraphs. Start with the sentence 'Except, of course, it wouldn't have been an exercise merely of lust'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Except, of course, it wouldn't have been an exercise merely of lust. The alarm bell, she knew, hadn't been just about Lizzie's package and her loyalty to her friend. She was reasonably confident that even an experienced detective like Cam Yeager would have difficulty finding it in back of the fan in Number Three—at least not before she caught him. No, the alarm bell was also about herself. A night devoted to the physical release of the sexual tension that had built up between Cam and herself had its allure. But kissing him, feeling his mouth on her breasts, she'd realized, with a jolt like none other she'd ever felt, that she wanted more from Cameron Yeager than a casual, throw-away night together.
  But Gabriella didn't rise to the bait. She'd learned a little self-control in her year with TJR Associates. She wasn't going to talk about Cam Yeager or her love life with her father, a man who'd never married her mother, who'd been a part of his only child's life when it was convenient for him and not necessarily when she needed him. It wasn't that she still held a grudge. What was the point? Scag was Scag, and she didn't blame him for her flaws and occasional fits of unhappiness and dissatisfaction. By the time she was in preschool she'd learned to accept her father for who he was. But that didn't mean she'd trust any advice he had on how to have a satisfying, committed, long-term relationship with anything but an orchid.
  By late afternoon she was feeling restless and aggrieved. What if keeping secrets from Joshua and Titus—never mind out of loyalty to Lizzie—ended up costing her her job? What would she do? How could she support her Back Bay lifestyle, hundreds of orchids, a destitute father? What kind of reference could she expect from the Reading brothers? What kind of questions could she expect from a potential employer about why only a year with TJR Associates, why the two years with Tony Scagliotti, what kind of problems they could expect Scag to cause them?
  And where the hell was Lizzie? Why hadn't she called at least to say that she was safe—or even to check on her damned package?
  If she were Lizzie Fairfax, Gabriella thought, trying to rein in her free-floating anxieties and frustrations before she did something impulsive, where would she go?
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: the last three paragraphs
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Gabriella sampled her wine, settling back in her chair. Scag had gone home for the day. He'd moved into a two-room suite in his rooming house, giving him the space he needed to commence work on his memoris. When he got Gabriella's orchids in shape, he'd cut back his hours. He had, finally, decided to let her pay him for his work. They'd haggled over the price one entire afternoon.
  When he'd found out about his son and Gabriella Starr, Tom Yeager had howled. "I remember Tony Scagliotti. Something about a white lady slipper. I wanted to throw him in jail just for irritating me." But he'd added, turning serious, "Be happy, Cam. It's time."
  She set her wineglass on the table and came to him, sliding onto his lap, her dark eyes warm and content. "No," she said, and his arms settled on her waist. "At least not by orchids."
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Add another sentence about fined, trespassing.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Gabriella sampled her wine, settling back in her chair. Scag had gone home for the day. He'd moved into a two-room suite in his rooming house, giving him the space he needed to commence work on his memoris. When he got Gabriella's orchids in shape, he'd cut back his hours. He had, finally, decided to let her pay him for his work. They'd haggled over the price one entire afternoon. 
  When he'd found out about his son and Gabriella Starr, Tom Yeager had howled. "I remember Tony Scagliotti. I fined him once for trespassing. Something about a white lady slipper. I wanted to throw him in jail just for irritating me. " But he'd added, turning serious, "Be happy, Cam. It's time. "
  She set her wineglass on the table and came to him, sliding onto his lap, her dark eyes warm and content. "No," she said, and his arms settled on her waist. "At least not by orchids. "