Publisher's Synopsis
For thousands of years prostitution has been a way to earn a living for some women. Yet in this tale of "Whore" never have the ladies of the night receeive such a rude awakening. This time sleeping is not an optin. He pushed her against the wall of the dilapidated, deserted building that was destined to be razed for another renewal zone in New York City at the beginning of the 20th century. The new electric streetlights softly lit up her face. She was young thin and frightened. Her body was so small that from a distance, she looked like she might be alittle child, but upon closer inspection, the curves of her tiny frame convinced him that she might be 15 or 18. Down in the basement, Billy Ray wasted no time talking to the girl. He just poured out the few drops of sleeping potion onto his handkerchief and held it to her face until she stopped screaming. When she was still, he looked from her to Joann. The strap around the older sister's waist had cut into her badly when her stomach started to swell. Even now, it would take some work to get her out of it and Marianne into it. He would find a way to do that later. For now, Marianne had to stay strapped to the table. "I'm not going to lie to you, Billy. Your mother says to beat you very solid. She saw how you turned the tables on me the other day, and she will have none of that this time. Once you had a good flailing' though, she is going to forgive you and leave you alone."
