She called herself Denny Lyons and she was everything men dream of on long, lonely nights. . . .She had it all, from the white-gold hair that framed her expensive face, to the graceful, slender ankles - and all those little extras in-between. . . .Even before she opened her lovely mouth to sing, she had her audience entranced. And when she sang, her low, smoky voice curled itself around your spine, drifted slowly up into your chest, and stayed there. And hurt. . . .She had everything - including big ideas. She was headed straight for the top and she through she knew just how to get there. . . .But she was wrong. Because her big beautiful career came to a sudden violent end - when she did. . . .