Rosalie was once a great beauty, bold and bright as midnight on the Fourth of July. Her eyes crackled with fiery blue sparks. Her red hair lit up the dark. Her lips were strawberries sliced with whipped cream. Her breasts the weight of ripe melons.

She went through so many, so many young studs, flirting her way through their lives. Leaving them dead in the streets.

Then she met and married her husband. It was the sorry end of a great career.