Skin Trade
Skin Trade By Cal Y. Pygia Sixteen-year-old Jennifer Beale put down her romance novel. The sun was hot. It burned mercilessly, baking her. She wished she'd worn a swimsuit instead of a halter top, a knee-length skirt, bobby sox, and sandals. A two-piece suit or, better yet, a bikini would have exposed her upper legs, her back, and her tummy to the air, allowing the faint, intermittent breeze to cool her. She'd looked forward to reading the last chapter of "Blithe Boys",...