conversations.from: human
conversations.value: a title for a book about Paso, Texas, Thirteen with the genre: Literature & Fiction, Action & Adventure
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: A title for this book could be 'Divine Misfortune'
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the first five paragraphs for this book.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Divine Misfortune
  She shrugged. "I don't know. It just is. I mean, dogs are nice, at least. But jackals... who has anything nice to say about them?"
  Phil scrolled through Anubis's profile. "He's a pretty good find. I think we should sign up with him while we can."
  Teri looked at him coldly. She didn't use the look a lot, but it meant there was no changing her mind. He didn't feel like fighting about it anyway. There were plenty of other gods. Somewhere in the hundreds of listed profiles, there had to be one she couldn't find anything wrong with.
  She was right. It wasn't a decision to be taken lightly. The string of events that had led him to peruse the digital pages of Pantheon.com, the Internet's second-largest deity matching service, hadn't made him forget that.
  First had been the promotion. Another one passing him over. The fourth opening in as many months. Instead, that kiss-ass Bob had taken Phil's step up the corporate ladder. Phil had been practicing his brownnosing and was damn good at it. Better than Bob. So good in fact that Phil had actually swallowed his outrage and walked up to Bob's new corner office to congratulate his new boss.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me five more paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: There wasn't enough in the carafe to refill the mug all the way. Phil took the half-filled beverage. That way, his boss still had a full cup and Phil would have less to drink. He congratulated himself on his cleverness when Rosenquist returned.
  Rosenquist took a hearty gulp of his beverage while Phil took a sip. It wasn't very good, but right now, it tasted like nectar from Olympus.
  The boss seized Phil in another painful handshake. He caught Phil glancing over his shoulder at the window.
  The boss threw his mug aside. Beads of sweat poured down Rosenquist's face. He released Phil and grabbed his chest.
  Rosenquist lurched forward. Phil moved to catch the toppling executive. Rosenquist was heavier than Phil expected and they ended up on the floor together, the boss on top. Phil had trouble breathing, and it wasn't just the weight bearing down on him. The pair of hands wrapped around his throat had something to do with it, too. Phil gasped for a few strangled gulps of air as he stared into Rosenquist's bloodshot, twitching eyes.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the last four paragraphs.. End with the sentence ' Just watching.'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Lucky, in Bermuda shorts, lounged on the ethereal beach. The silver sand reflected the three moons hanging overhead.
  The waiter brought Lucky the drinks just as Janet, clad in a bikini, emerged from the ocean. Lucky tossed her a towel.
  He nodded. The Beaches of Eternity had become a little too rowdy. Gods and demigods pranced across the sands in drunken partying. Dionysus noisily ralphed into a trash can less than twenty feet away. And the hotel didn't even have cable.
  Syph hid just down the beach, lurking behind an umbrella. She'd been less insistent lately, less obvious. Perhaps it was her continuing inability to inflict any harm on Janet. Or perhaps it was the demands of her new temple. Either way, she was still a semi-regular presence lurking in the background of their lives. Never interfering. Never getting too close. Just watching.