It’s time for the monthly Read Around the Rainbow post!!! On the last Friday of the month, we’re a group of authors who get together to blog on the same topic. This month, we’re delving into something that scares me.
A.I. vs. Me
I wrote Holly’s post first, so may I suggest you read that first? Over there you can read a 400-word fated mates story I wrote, and then one A.I. wrote.
This time, I didn’t write a story. Instead, I took my fated mates story, which, since we’re in May, I wrote as a May story. I popped it into ChatGPT and asked it to:
Rewrite this story into a Christmas story where they kiss under the mistletoe instead of on the street: *the story*
The result was this:
Rudi hurried down the busy street outside the office, feeling the weight of the long day and never-ending week on his shoulders. The harsh May sun seemed to taunt him, and he yearned to shed his human facade and embrace his true self—a wolf running wild beneath the moonlit sky.
As he inhaled the exhaust-filled air, Rudi’s senses suddenly heightened. His heart skipped a beat, and he knew. His mate was near. Heat surged through his veins, and his body burned with an intense longing.
Without a second thought, Rudi stepped onto the street, his focus solely on finding his destined partner. Ignoring the blaring horns, he rushed toward the source of his desire—a tall man with dark hair and searching eyes.
Their eyes locked, and time seemed to stand still. Rudi’s growl subsided as their gazes connected, and a surge of electricity coursed between them. The man changed his path, homing in on Rudi with equal urgency.
Breathless, they faced each other. Rudi couldn’t help but reach out, their hands finding each other’s as if drawn by an invisible force. Their lips brushed together in a tender, tentative kiss, and a burst of fireworks exploded within Rudi’s soul.
His voice quivering with emotion, Rudi whispered, “What’s your name?”
The man’s arms tightened around Rudi’s neck, his voice a husky reply, “Bjorn Oak of the Hibernator Hollow sleuth.”
Rudi felt a mix of surprise and delight at the revelation that his mate was a bear shifter. Their connection felt right, undeniable.
“And you?” Bjorn asked, his touch sending delightful shivers down Rudi’s spine.
Rudi smiled, his heart pounding with joy. “Rudi Oclan of the Moonstone pack.”
As they shared their identities, a sense of acceptance and excitement settled between them. Rudi couldn’t resist pulling Bjorn closer, their lips meeting once again. The world around them faded away, replaced by the blissful certainty of their fated bond.
Though interrupted by the impatient honking of a car, their passion remained unyielding. Rudi clung to Bjorn, knowing they had found each other, their love transcending species and the noise of the busy street.
Their kiss under the mistletoe became a symbol of their Christmas miracle—a serendipitous meeting that would forever warm their hearts. And as they walked hand in hand, Rudi and Bjorn embraced the enchantment of the holiday season, grateful for the greatest gift of all: love found amidst the chaos of the world.
I thought it was pretty good, but you’d never find speech tags in one of my stories (or very, very few), and the harsh May sun doesn’t really fit in a Christmas story, right? So I asked it to:
Change the story from May to December and make it cold and snowy.
And this was the result:
Rudi walked briskly down the bustling street outside the office, his breath turning into clouds in the frigid December air. The snowflakes danced around him, adorning his dark fur with delicate crystals. The world was cloaked in a serene white blanket, and Rudi longed to run through the snowy forest, feeling the chill against his paws.
The icy wind tugged at his coat, urging him to seek warmth and shelter. But then, a scent carried on the wintry breeze caught his attention—a scent that stirred his soul, promising a connection deeper than the frosty landscape.
He followed his instincts, weaving through the crowd with determination, his keen senses guiding him towards his destined mate. The hustle and bustle of the city seemed to fade away, replaced by the beat of his own heart and the whispers of fate.
And there, standing amidst the falling snowflakes, was Bjorn—a tall and sturdy figure with a warm smile and eyes that mirrored the winter sky. Rudi’s pulse quickened, his fur standing on end with anticipation. The world stood still as their gazes met, as if time itself had frozen to witness their union.
With each step, Rudi and Bjorn closed the distance between them, their hearts beating in synchrony. The snowflakes seemed to slow, swirling around them like a waltz. Bjorn’s gloved hand reached out, and Rudi’s paw fit perfectly within it, a seamless connection of warmth and affection.
Underneath the mistletoe, they shared a kiss—a delicate meeting of lips amidst the winter’s embrace. It was a moment that defied the cold, igniting a fire within their souls. The snowflakes twirled around them, celebrating their love.
Rudi whispered through the frosty air, “What’s your name?”
Bjorn’s voice carried a gentle warmth, “I’m Bjorn Oak, of the Hibernator Hollow sleuth.”
A smile spread across Rudi’s muzzle, his voice filled with adoration, “I’m Rudi Oclan, of the Moonstone pack.”
In the midst of the snow-kissed city, Rudi and Bjorn found solace and belonging in each other’s arms. They reveled in the magic of the winter season, exploring snow-covered parks hand in hand and creating memories filled with laughter and love.
As the snow continued to fall, they built a sanctuary of love and acceptance, nurturing their bond with every snowflake that landed softly on their fur. Together, they embraced the enchantment of the holiday season, finding warmth in each other’s embrace amidst the wintry chill.
Their kiss beneath the mistletoe became a symbol of love’s triumph over the cold, a testament to the power of destiny and the joy that comes from finding one’s true mate. And as they walked through the snowy streets, Rudi and Bjorn knew that their love would continue to bloom, forever entwined in the magic of a snowy December.
There is less of me here, and I feel like the pet robots don’t really understand shifters. Maybe if I gave it clearer instructions, but instead I asked it to:
Rewrite it as a contemporary story where they aren’t shifters.
And the result:
Rudi walked briskly down the busy street outside the office, his breath forming misty puffs in the chilly December air. Snowflakes fluttered around him, adding a touch of magic to the bustling cityscape. The world was transformed into a winter wonderland, and Rudi couldn’t help but smile at the joyous atmosphere.
As he made his way through the crowd, a figure caught his eye—an imposing man with a warm smile and eyes that twinkled like snowflakes in the sunlight. Rudi’s heart skipped a beat, and a surge of anticipation coursed through him. He felt an inexplicable connection to this stranger.
Driven by curiosity, Rudi ventured closer, his steps cautious yet purposeful. The bustling street seemed to fade into the background, and it was as if time stood still, leaving only the two of them in their own little world of swirling snowflakes.
With a slight smile, Rudi approached the man, their eyes locked in an unspoken understanding. The snowflakes danced around them, creating a magical backdrop for what was about to unfold. Their paths had crossed on this wintry day for a reason.
Underneath the mistletoe, they shared a tender kiss, their lips meeting with a delightful warmth that defied the chilly air. In that moment, Rudi felt a spark ignite within him, an electric connection that transcended the falling snowflakes and drew him closer to this enigmatic stranger.
Gently pulling away, Rudi’s voice resonated with curiosity, “What’s your name?”
The man’s smile widened, his voice filled with warmth, “I’m Bjorn Oak.”
Rudi’s heart fluttered, a soft smile gracing his lips, “I’m Rudi Oclan.”
In the midst of the bustling city, Rudi and Bjorn discovered a shared love for art, music, and exploring the hidden gems of the urban landscape. They strolled hand in hand through the snow-covered streets, immersing themselves in the holiday spirit that permeated the air.
They sipped hot cocoa at cozy cafes, exchanged playful banter in bookstores, and laughed together under the glow of festive lights. With each passing day, their bond grew stronger, their connection evolving into something truly special.
As the snow continued to fall, Rudi and Bjorn reveled in the joy and romance of the holiday season. They attended festive gatherings, exchanged thoughtful gifts, and shared countless kisses beneath mistletoe. Their love blossomed like a delicate snowflake, enchanting and beautiful.
In the midst of the contemporary cityscape, Rudi and Bjorn found solace and happiness in each other’s arms. Their love story became a testament to the power of unexpected encounters, reminding everyone that true love can be found even in the busiest of streets.
And as they embraced the enchantment of the holiday season, Rudi and Bjorn knew that their love would continue to flourish, forever entwined in the magic of a contemporary December.
If you plan to sell your soul to the pet robots and let them write your stories in the future, I think contemporary works better. Though I guess it’s just a matter of training them. This is so freaking scary. I fear we’ll soon be (if we aren’t already) in a world where we won’t be able to tell what’s written by people and what isn’t.
The more times I ran my story through ChatGPT, the less of my voice remained. And the robots don’t really understand words. They make a good impression of understanding, but in the midst of the contemporary cityscape, the magic of a contemporary December tends to be a bit too contemporary in my mind.
What’s frightening is that after I wrote Holly’s post, this only took me a few minutes to get these, and I did it while having a conversation with a seven-year-old who jumping up and down next to my chair. So not exactly focused on what I was doing. Had I thought my requests through better, I think ChatGTP could’ve written me a pretty good story. It wouldn’t be mine, but a story I could’ve slapped a new pen name on and published after some polishing.
Had I had the time, I would’ve taken one of my longer stories and asked it to change the character’s name and something in the setting. I think we’re gonna see a lot of plagiarised stories in the future. I think we as authors will have to be prepared to prove our copyright, and I’m quite frankly scared shitless.
Choose your weapons.
I work for Lucifer. Only, it’s not as cool and satanic as it sounds.
Riley Aylworth’s life has been completely devoid of intimate contact since a fire three years ago left him with horrific facial scarring, so when he finds an ad for a phone sex service, he decides to give it a call. Except that the number is not a phone sex service—it’s the revenge Cameron Kirkwood’s ex-boyfriend took on the uptight advertising executive after Cam forgot their anniversary and accidentally put him in the hospital. Needless to say, after thirty-nine disturbing calls seeking phone sex, Cameron is at the end of his tether and yells at his fortieth caller. What he doesn’t expect is for Riley to hit redial and yell right back.
Daddy just took on a whole new meaning…
It started as a simple assignment for Aussie bush guide Dave Taylor – escort a lone Englishman in quest of an unknown species of butterfly. However, Nicholas Goring is no ordinary tourist, his search is far from straightforward, and it’s starting to look as if the butterflies don’t want to be found. As Dave teaches Nicholas everything he needs to survive in the Outback he discovers that he too has quite a bit to learn – and that very often the best way to locate something really important is just not to want to find it…
James Killian learns the hard way that sometimes smaller towns can be full of bigots. When he comes out to his father he is not only kicked out of his home but off the Quadruple J where he works as the ranch foreman. With nowhere to go and little money, his savior comes in the unlikely form of his older brother’s best friend, the man he’s been in love with for over half his life.
New York City FBI team leader Samuel Shaughnessy lives for his immediate family and his job. After a marriage gone wrong, he has stuck to a firm rule when it comes to relationships: he doesn’t have them. Sexually active and emotionally unavailable keeps him satisfied, especially now that he is in hot pursuit of a serial killer targeting gay men.
Samuel Briggs moved to small-town Stratton, Pennsylvania, to escape his tragic past and try to start over. When he’s not out walking his beat as a police officer, all he wants is peace, a manageable routine, and time to fix up his newly-purchased project home. And Samuel absolutely does not have room in his new routines for a relationship. Except a chance encounter with a handsome diner cook unexpectedly shakes his resolve.
Daniel Whitlock is terrified of going to sleep. And rightly so: he sleepwalks, with no awareness or memory of his actions. Including burning down Kenny Cooper’s house — with Kenny inside it — after Kenny brutally beat him for being gay. Back in the tiny town of Logan after serving his prison sentence, Daniel isolates himself in a cabin in the woods and chains himself to his bed at night.
When alcohol and fierce tempers land two cowboys from the rodeo circuit under house arrest, it may be time to Let It Go.
The Great North, Quebec, 1934. Joe Vega, the Beast, has been locked up in Linhart Prison for three years. The brutish guards harass him because of his size, but Joe remains cool.
I kept tripping over my feet, tripping over my words, and eventually gave up talking all together. You continued to smile anyway.
Lie back and think of England…
Daniel Mulligan is tough, snarky, and tattooed, hiding his self-consciousness behind sarcasm. Daniel has never fit in—not at home in Philadelphia with his auto mechanic father and brothers, and not at school where his Ivy League classmates looked down on him. Now, Daniel’s relieved to have a job at a small college in Holiday, Northern Michigan, but he’s a city boy through and through, and it’s clear that this small town is one more place he won’t fit in.
Ofelia Grand 