THE FIRE OF RUBY KNOX

Ruby Knox wasn’t born in the fire—she is the fire. With hair the color of a prairie sunset and eyes that dared you to keep looking, she was the kind of woman who could melt steel—or your resolve—before you had time to draw.

Ruby didn’t just walk into a saloon—she ignited it. Men stood straighter, women leaned in closer, and the air got heavy with the scent of trouble. Her voice was low and lazy, like smoke curling off a campfire, but her temper? Quick as a match strike. One wrong word and she’d have you pinned to the wall with a grin that said she might let you go… or she might just take your hat, your gold, and your pride.

A deadeye with a rifle and a devil with a deck of cards, Ruby was the heat of The Bad Girls

A marksman, She rode like the wind and fought like she had nothing to lose. Ruby Knox was heat wrapped in silk, smoke with a slow burn, and she didn’t need to chase her legend—she left it smoldering in her wake.

If you feel the air get hotter and catch the glint of a red mane in the sun, you best step aside. Because when Ruby’s in town, the cards are stacked, the stakes are high, and the night’s about to catch fire.

Dead or alive? Darlin—

she’ll scorch you either way.