conversations.from: human
conversations.value: a title for a book about Called, Reigning, Queen with the genre: Romance, Paranormal
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: A title for this book could be 'Visions of Sugar Plums'
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me a description for a book titled Visions of Sugar Plums about Stephanie, Plum, Ranger with the genre: Mystery, Thriller & Suspense, Mystery.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: In this story, Stephanie Plum has bigger problems than the usual thugs, thieves and hoodlums - this time, there's someone in her apartment who just won't leave. We - and Stephanie - meet a character as mysterious as Ranger and as sexy as Morelli.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the first five paragraphs for this book.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Visions of Sugar Plums
  He was over six feet, with wavy blond hair pulled into a ponytail, deep-set brown eyes, and an athlete's body. He looked to be late twenties, maybe thirty. He was dressed in jeans, boots, a grungy white thermal shirt hanging loose over the jeans, and a beat-up black leather jacket hanging on broad shoulders. He was sporting two days of beard growth, and he didn't look happy.
  My heart was tap-dancing in my chest. I was at a total loss. I didn't know what to think or what to say. I didn't know who he was or how he got into my kitchen. He was frightening, but even more than that he had me flustered. It was like going to a birthday party and arriving a day early. It was like... what the heck's going on?
  Okay, so I've got a big slob of a guy drinking beer in my kitchen, and I think he might be crazy. The only other possibility I can come up with is that I'm hallucinating and he isn't real. I smoked some pot in college but that was about it. Don't think I'd get a flashback from wacky tobacky. There were mushrooms on the pizza last night. Could that be it?
  Fortunately, I work in bail bond enforcement, and I'm sort of used to scary guys showing up in closets and under beds. I inched my way across the kitchen, stuck my hand into my brown bear cookie jar, and pulled out my.38 five-shot Smith & Wesson.
  Good thing I didn't have a bullet chambered as threatened because I'd definitely shoot this guy. "Do you have a name?"
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me five more paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: I felt Diesel come up hard to my back. He wrapped his arm around me, holding me tight against him, and he hauled me out of there with my feet two inches off the ground. He was kicking elves out of the way as he went, occasionally grabbing one by the shirt and throwing him across the room. He got to the sidewalk, rammed the office door closed, and did his magical locking thing, trapping the elves inside.
  Contorted little elf faces smushed up against the large glass windows, glaring out at us, yelling elf threats, their pudgy little elf middle fingers extended. Inside, the room was a wreck. Tables and chairs were overturned, and cookies were smashed everywhere.
  Diesel set me on my feet, took me by the hand, and yanked me to the car. "What the hell was that about?" he asked. "I've never seen anything like it. A whole room filled with pissed-off little people. It was fucking frightening."
  I slid onto the passenger seat and a sigh escaped. "I know. I just don't want to have to tell anyone I was attacked by a horde of angry little people. A horde of angry elves sounds better, somehow."
  My cell phone chirped. "I'm at the mall," Valerie said, "and I need help. I can't remember everything that was on Mary Alice's list. I got her the Barbie, the television, the game, and the ice skates. I have the train and the computer at home. Do you remember what else she wanted?"
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the last paragraph.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: I awoke at dawn and gently slid away from Morelli. I padded through my dark apartment to the kitchen. The mall tree was lit with tiny twinkle lights, and Diesel was leaning against the counter.