conversations.from: human
conversations.value: a description for a book titled Booke of the Hidden about BOOKE, HIDDEN, ROMANTIC with the genre: Science Fiction & Fantasy, Fantasy
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: "BOOKE OF THE HIDDEN is paranormal romance perfection...the author is flawless in this tale of adventure, mystery and saucy romance. The page reverberates with passion, and absolutely no wrong can come from vivid characters and a hero to die for."  - ROMANTIC TIMES Five Stars *****
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the first sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: ..the author is flawless in this tale of adventure, mystery and saucy romance. The page reverberates with passion, and absolutely no wrong can come from vivid characters and a hero to die for."  - ROMANTIC TIMES Five Stars *****
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: the first five paragraphs for this book. End with the sentence 'maybe I could make a new start there.'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Booke of the Hidden
  I didn't believe in ghosts or the supernatural...but that weird noise in the wall was testing my convictions.
  Pouring myself another glass of Chardonnay, I sipped and wandered around my soon-to-be-opened tea shop, fluffing a pillow here, adjusting a lamp there. I still had a long way to go, but I would be ready by Friday for my grand opening.
  Then my eye went toward an awkwardly smiling shelf. Warped and too unwieldy for my wares, it had to come down. I grabbed a crowbar from my toolbox, and with the crowbar in one hand and my wine glass in the other, I crossed to the shelf and took another hearty swig before setting the glass aside. Buoyed by the courage of several glasses of wine, I took up the crowbar again, and wedged the straight edge behind the warped wood. I yanked. Nothing. I yanked again, bracing my foot against the toe kick at the floor. Still nothing.
  I dusted myself off and rose, rubbing my bruised behind, and stared forlornly at all the ancient plaster strewn about the floor and the gaping maw that was once my wall. The lathe behind the plaster had even torn free, and a few choice words I had never spoken aloud rampaged through my head.
  When I saw the ad on Craigslist, I had become intrigued. A rugged coast, a vast sweep of forest, and a quaint little New England town. I was captivated by the romance of it. And by the distance it was from California. But perhaps it was more than that, especially after I'd Skyped with the realtor, pored over the pictures she'd sent me of the shop with its living quarters above, the picturesque village—it seemed familiar, even though I'd never ventured out of Southern California before. I felt I knew those clapboard houses, those rustic porches, and the town square. Felt like...maybe I could make a new start there.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: three more paragraphs
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: I brushed my hair back over my ear. "No, it wasn't just talk." I smiled. I was a little rusty at this but I knew it would come back to me. Like riding a bicycle.
  He cleaned his plate and turned down a second slice, but said yes to more coffee. I watched with widened eyes as he scooped more sugar in and drank that down, too. We talked for about half an hour, about the village and some of the personalities in it. He shook his head when I asked about the Wiccans. "Doc and his Wicca." His tone was cynical.
  Ed snorted. "Love thy neighbor," he muttered. "Look, don't get the wrong impression. I respect Doc. He's got a good head on his shoulders. And the others are nice enough. But I think that there are just some things people should not mess with. Things they don't fully understand."
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: the last five paragraphs
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Laughter. Shimmering sounds like rocks sliding over rocks into a molten pool. A long silence followed.
  The tendrils reached for him again, but did not push harder than before. They seemed to want him to say it, not force it from his mind.
  He took a deep breath and bowed. "I have not failed in four thousand years, my lords. I shall not fail this time.
  Would you believe the plot and general idea for this series came to me in a dream? I'm not kidding. It was one of those serendipitous things. I dreamed of the Booke (which was amusingly called "The Big Book of the Occult" in my dream), Kylie, the demon, and the monsters beaten with a crossbow. The whole Magilla. When I awoke I lay there for while absorbing it. It was so entertaining, I immediately told my husband who was just getting up for work. He told me, "Write it down!"
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Add another sentence about shimmering, cascaded, touched.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Laughter. Shimmering sounds like rocks sliding over rocks into a molten pool. A long silence followed. 
  The tendrils reached for him again, but did not push harder than before. They seemed to want him to say it, not force it from his mind. 
  He took a deep breath and bowed. "I have not failed in four thousand years, my lords. I shall not fail this time. "
  The shimmering sound rose to a crescendo and then cascaded down all around him like sparks, dead once they touched the ground. 
  Would you believe the plot and general idea for this series came to me in a dream? I'm not kidding. It was one of those serendipitous things. I dreamed of the Booke (which was amusingly called "The Big Book of the Occult" in my dream), Kylie, the demon, and the monsters beaten with a crossbow. The whole Magilla. When I awoke I lay there for while absorbing it. It was so entertaining, I immediately told my husband who was just getting up for work. He told me, "Write it down!"