When I was five years old, I’d already been riding the mechanical bull at the Stage Coach for two years. Maw had a friend who worked there, so she’d march me in early in the day — nobody around but us and the smell of old beer and Pine‑Sol — and whisper:
“Now when we go in, you ask the barmaid for a Shirley Temple like you’re grown.”
And Lord, I thought I was fancy. Sitting there with my little red drink, legs swinging, waiting for Maw to make her rounds while that bull hummed in the corner like it knew my name.
That was my childhood classroom. That was my training montage.
So when people ask where High Heels & Haymakers came from, I tell them the truth:
It started with a five‑year‑old who couldn’t decide if she wanted to be Tina Turner or Rocky Balboa… so she became both.
I learned early that you can be loud and legendary, soft and dangerous, glittered and battle‑ready — all at the same time. And that’s the heartbeat of this book.
If you’ve ever grown yourself in the dark… If you’ve ever rebuilt from the mud up… If you’ve ever walked into a room knowing you weren’t supposed to survive this long —
then this story is yours too.
High Heels & Haymakers isn’t just a Chapter title (Tobacco-Stained Prayers) It’s a way of walking through the world.
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— R.B. Rouge