"The handles were eggshell-white pearl and the days of the week were hand-lettered on each one. She lifted out the Tuesday razor and snapped the case closed..." Glory-Ann had the kind of body that men wanted badly. That made her a highly saleable commodity. She still bore the scars of the time that young hoodlum charged the hometown guys a nickel each for her in the back of a car. When she came to New York City in search of the swinging singles scene, the pimps marked her down as a natural. But Glory-Ann had a razor in her lovely hand and she was through with being anybody's victim...