conversations.from: human
conversations.value: a description for a book titled Save My Soul about Riley, Hayden, CNC with the genre: Romance, Paranormal
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Ever find it hard to talk about yourself? Yeah, I have that problem, too. I have been married to my soulmate for almost 8 years, who wouldn't pick up a book unless promised that it was filled with pictures. I have a beautiful 6 year old daughter, Riley, that talks too much and has a very vivid imagination. I have no clue where she got those traits. My step-son, Hayden, is 15 and very into football and hunting. I am a CNC Machinist by day, and a writer of romance with a paranormal twist, by night and weekend. If you enjoy a great love story with a massive amount of drama about angels, demons, ghosts, vampires, witches and fairy tale creatures brought to life through a twisted mind, then you might just enjoy reading my work. Save My Soul is only one of six novels I have created so far, and it happens to be the first one that I self-published.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: the first four paragraphs for this book
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Save My Soul
  My family and friends continually bless me with their love and support. Warm words of encouragement, easy hugs, and bottomless glasses of wine, got me through more doubt than they'll ever know.
  And last but not least, I'm thankful for summer vacations spent in Lake Norman, North Carolina, where the sun soothes, the water calms, and the inspiration is endless.
  Maggie blinked at the picture she held in her hand. She rubbed her eyes. She tilted her head. She even squinted. No matter how she studied the tattered square, the image didn't make sense.
  Her date reached across the bistro table and flicked the back of the photo. "That's my wife and kids."
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Save My Soul
  My family and friends continually bless me with their love and support. Warm words of encouragement, easy hugs, and bottomless glasses of wine, got me through more doubt than they'll ever know.
  And last but not least, I'm thankful for summer vacations spent in Lake Norman, North Carolina, where the sun soothes, the water calms, and the inspiration is endless.
  Maggie blinked at the picture she held in her hand. She rubbed her eyes. She tilted her head. She even squinted. No matter how she studied the tattered square, the image didn't make sense.
  Her date reached across the bistro table and flicked the back of the photo. "That's my wife and kids.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: another paragraph
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: He hesitated again, but then lifted the plastic can of white. He studied the unblemished, snowball shape in his hand and then traded it for a clump of red, smashing it between his tan hands. Bushy black brows knitted together in concentration.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: the last five paragraphs
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: A half smile curled Reese's mouth before he took a drink. He was one of the few men on the team with all his original teeth. A luxury of being a netminder. "Vaughn Junior bend over and beg?"
  Reese arched his brows, and Carter smiled devilishly like a kid with a good secret. He leaned his forearms on the table and savored it for a beat. "'Vaughn Junior' wears Chanel Number Five and comes up to my chin in four-inch heels."
  A reflexive smile escaped before Carter could stop it, and Reese whistled low. An image flashed of Jacey sitting behind the desk doing mental math, and he straightened, clearing his throat. "I mean she's smart, too. Business smart, anyway. Has an MBA from Yale. She doesn't seem to know a lot about hockey, though."
  Reese didn't seem ready to let it go, but he did and grunted into his mug. Their plate of chili cheese fries arrived. "Peabo really cracked the whip at practice today, man. Worse than Finley. You think Coach'll show up tomorrow?"
  The assistant coach, Mike Peabody, definitely had seemed pleased to take over practice. His particular style had been something like military boot camp meets Medieval torture. "I don't know. Rumor is he quit."