conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What could be a title for a book about Nashville, Currently, Lieutenant with the genre: Mystery, Thriller & Suspense, Mystery?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: A title for this book could be 'Rules of the Game'
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide a description for a book titled Rules of the Game about Jay, I'm, Courtland with the genre: Romance, Contemporary.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: "I'm glad we both know the score." Jay Courtland was used to playing the game of love with sophisticated women who followed the rules - no attachments, no commitments, no cheating. He was not used to the Vanessas of the world.
  
  Yet when he mistook Vanessa for her more glamorous cousin, she reluctantly continued the deception.
  
  So she prayed for a little beginner's luck and took the chance that Jay would eventually see her - and want her - for what she really was...and not as a poor substitute for Nadia.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Add another sentence about Jay.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: "I'm glad we both know the score. " Jay Courtland was used to playing the game of love with sophisticated women who followed the rules - no attachments, no commitments, no cheating. He was not used to the Vanessas of the world. 
  
  Yet when he mistook Vanessa for her more glamorous cousin, she reluctantly continued the deception. She was twenty-two years old, had never had a lover and knew she'd never again meet a man who made her feel the way Jay could. 
  
  So she prayed for a little beginner's luck and took the chance that Jay would eventually see her - and want her - for what she really was... and not as a poor substitute for Nadia.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide the first three paragraphs for this book.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Rules of the Game
  Brooke sent Claire a characteristic look. Direct, uncompromising gray eyes bored into the soft blue of the older woman's. One of Brooke's greatest talents, and her greatest weapons, was her ability to stare down anyone from a corporate president to a temperamental actor. She'd developed the knack early as a defense against her own insecurity and had since refined it to an art. It was an art, however, that didn't impress Claire Thorton. At forty-nine, she was the head of a multimillion-dollar company that she'd started with brains and guts. For nearly a quarter of a century, she had run things her way, and she intended to keep right on doing so.
  She'd known Brooke for ten years—since Brooke had been an eighteen-year-old upstart who had wheedled her way into a job with Thorton Productions. Then she'd watched Brooke work her way up from gofer to gaffer, from gaffer to assistant cameraman and from there to director. Claire had never regretted the impulse that had led her to give Brooke her first fifteen-second commercial.
  Intuition had been the basis for Claire's success with Thorton Productions, and intuitively she had sensed sharp talent in Brooke Gordon. In addition, Claire knew her, understood her, as few others did. Perhaps it was because they shared two basic traits—ambition and independence.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide five more paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The knowledge of the pure physical strength he possessed excited her. With light touches and caresses, she could make this man breathe as though he had run to the point of collapse. With feathering kisses she could make this hardened athlete shudder with an inner weakness she alone was aware of. Though she didn't fully understand it, Brooke knew that she had given him something more than her body the night before, something more complex than surrender or passion. Without even knowing what the gift was, she wanted Parks to offer it in return.
  Slowly, enjoying every movement of his body beneath hers, savoring each subtly different taste, she roamed up until her lips fastened greedily on his. How soft his mouth was. How nectarous, with a dark, secret cachet. Brooke savored it on her tongue, feeling it intensify until the draining, liquefying pleasure crept into her. Knowing she would lose that slim edge of control, she tore her mouth from his to bury it at his throat.
  She felt the vibration of his groan against her lips, but she couldn't hear it. Her heartbeat raged in her head until all of her senses were confused. If it was morning, how could she feel this sultry night pleasure? If she was seducing him, how was she so thoroughly seduced? Her body pressed against his, matching itself to the slow, tortuous rhythm he set even as she raced tormenting kisses along his flesh. The heat seeping into her only seemed to add to the delirium of power, yet it wasn't enough. She was still searching for something so nebulous she wasn't certain she would recognize it when it was found. And desire, sharp bolts of desire, were causing everything but the quest for fulfillment to fade.
  Parks gripped her hair in one hand to pull her head up. She had only a brief glimpse of his face—the eyes half-shut but darker and more intense than she had ever seen them—before he brought her mouth down to his and devoured. All will, all sense was seeping out of her.
  Then it was clear—for one breathless instant. She needed, and knew now she was needed in return. It was enough... perhaps everything. With a shuddering sound of relief and joy, she gave.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide the last five paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: It had to be said. Even when it was known, it had to be said, for the record, and Eve knew, for the man.
  He stared at it, then put his, trembling, into it. He was a tall man, well-built. It took both of them to pull him to his feet where he swayed like a drunk.
  He eased down, and the dog immediately planted its massive paws on his legs, laid its enormous head in his lap. As Peabody went off to find the kitchen, Dickenson turned to Eve. Tears continued to stream out of his eyes but they'd cleared of the initial shock.
  Fast, Eve knew. Fast and brief. "Her body was found shortly after two this morning at the base of an exterior stairway of a building approximately eight blocks from her office. Her neck was broken."
  His breath came out, tore, sucked back again. "She wouldn't have walked that far, not at night, not alone. And she didn't fall or you wouldn't be here. Was she—was she raped?"