conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What could be a title for a story about Kate, Olivia, Olivia's with the genre: Teen & Young Adult, Literature & Fiction?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: A title for this story could be 'Beware That Girl'
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the first five paragraphs for this story.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Beware That Girl
  The bat cave was steaming by the time I got back, even though it had been unseasonably dry for days. I was packing up my two little suitcases and backpack when Mrs. Chen appeared in the doorway. The woman never knocked. I always thought she was trying to catch me at something. She was holding an aluminum container that was bigger than she was.
  I took the container from her and placed it on my little table. How was I going to get all this over to Olivia's in a cab? And what was Anka going to do with it?
  And with that, Mrs. Chen disappeared up the stairs, her slippered feet slapping against the damp cement steps. No good-bye, and certainly no more hugs. Her quota had clearly been breached with the one. I was disappointed. The stupid card was still in my hand. Ridiculous. I was going to the very top of the world, the lap of luxury, safe at last. I crumpled up the card, ready to toss it. I slid it into my backpack and then picked up the larger suitcase and my purse, but before I reached for my small suitcase and the pork, I uncrumpled the card and stuffed it into my bra.
  Olivia tried to see the room through Kate's eyes and failed. Her friend was uncharacteristically silent and still clutching a rather bizarre aluminum container.
  The relief was immediate. "You like it?" All of Olivia's unmedicated anxiety spiders were swept away, or at the very least, they scurried deeper into the crooks of her mind.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me five more paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: It was as if someone drew him. He was that beautiful naked. Olivia watched Mark slip smoothly out of bed and into a pair of khakis and a black T-shirt.
  Mark smiled, but he didn't start for the door. He stood still in the simmering silence, taking her in. He reached over with the back of his fingers and stroked her from collarbone to ankle with a touch so light she wasn't entirely sure that he had made contact. But he must have, because her body began to respond. Again.
  She wanted to prance around the room, giggle, squeal and scream. She wanted to admire herself in the mirror and hug herself. What a night! What a morning! She was drunk with pleasure. Mark seemed to know everything about her. About who she was and how she was. He "got" her like no one else possibly could, and despite all that, he loved her. He more or less said so.
  And she had to take a pill. She hadn't taken one yesterday, and she would be two behind if she didn't take one right now. Where was her backpack?
  She smiled at herself in the closet mirror. Yes. This was more than anything she could have imagined. She was wildly alive, every nerve ending sparked. Mark had awakened everything.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Reverse the sentences.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Mark had awakened everything.. She was wildly alive, every nerve ending sparked. This was more than anything she could have imagined. Yes. Where was her backpack?
  She smiled at herself in the closet mirror. She hadn't taken one yesterday, and she would be two behind if she didn't take one right now.
  And she had to take a pill. He more or less said so. He "got" her like no one else possibly could, and despite all that, he loved her. About who she was and how she was. Mark seemed to know everything about her. What a night! What a morning! She was drunk with pleasure. She wanted to admire herself in the mirror and hug herself.
  She wanted to prance around the room, giggle, squeal and scream. Again. But he must have, because her body began to respond. He reached over with the back of his fingers and stroked her from collarbone to ankle with a touch so light she wasn't entirely sure that he had made contact. He stood still in the simmering silence, taking her in.
  Mark smiled, but he didn't start for the door. Olivia watched Mark slip smoothly out of bed and into a pair of khakis and a black T-shirt. He was that beautiful naked.It was as if someone drew him
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the last three paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: This novel spent much of its life as an amorphous thing, bristling with scattered ideas and a creepy spark of fear. Then Beverly Horowitz and Amy Black got ahold of it. Never was a writer better served. Amy held me steady throughout and gave me the courage to write what I needed to write. Then Beverly exploded my head with what was possible. I'm grateful beyond measure for their support, guidance and keen insights. My sincere thanks as well to Rebecca Gudelis, Janice Weaver and Melanie Flaherty for saving me from myself time and time again.
  The girl made her way toward the semicircle of chairs, not smiling exactly, but not hesitating either. She was older for sure. Probably. So it was hopeless, of course. She sat down directly across from him, at her end of the semicircle. Without looking up, she crossed her genius, perfect legs and flipped a long black braid behind her. By the time he exhaled, the boy was in love.
  The girl's eyes were blue. Up until that very second, the boy had never noticed the color of anyone's eyes, could not have told you the color of his mother's eyes. But Robyn's eyes...well, they were the shade of an angry sky rimmed by thick lashes the color of soot. Her beauty—which, shockingly, no one in the room felt compelled to jump up and comment on—was ravishing. Everything in him felt tossed and trampled.