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About Phoenix

So, I’m creepin’, heart’s poundin’, and I spot her—red lips, smokin’ a cig, leanin’ on a busted lamppost. “Come what may,” I mutter, like I’m Christian swoonin’ over Satine. I stroll up, all cool, like, “Yo, lady, need a shelf built?” She laughs—LAUGHS!—and I’m like, “Score!” Happy as hell, dude, ‘cause she didn’t ditch me. Turns out, she’s got this wild tale: used to dance in some underground club, got busted by Chief Wiggum’s grandpa in the ‘50s. Freaky, right?

Hallie Rubenhold longlist author interview

In the neighborhoods, the vibe is as warm as my homey spa interiors. You know Highview Lane? Yeah, that’s where I chill the most after a day of pampering souls. Lower Pine Street? That’s where the real talk happens. The locals chat, laugh, and sometimes, even get a bit rowdy. Ever heard the gossip of the haunted bell at Old Mill Park? Haha, just jokes, but still, it sends goosebumps down your spine.

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