Excerpt from Ruby Falls by Gin Phillips, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

Excerpt
Ruby Falls

She's at least a mile from the authorized passages: she's ventured deeper ever since she realized that the staff at the castle cleans up for an hour after the dancing stops. Since no one cleans near the elevator, no one has noticed a woman hurrying back to the parking lot in the middle of the night. She has other time constraints, though: this cartridge of carbide will run out in less than two hours. The two flashlights in her pockets are less predictable: the batteries could last several hours or they might sputter out after a few minutes.

Her sleeve rips, and her elbow stings. She suspects she's bleeding, but she doesn't stop to check. If she bleeds on this rock, will the blood ever come out? In a thousand years, will it still be here?

She sees a widening ahead and lunges forward into a small chamber. A strong draft is coming from an opening in the floor, and she angles her light to get a view of the uneven ground below. She lets herself down slowly through the hole, dropping the final few inches.

Her ankle turns slightly, but it's hard to care. The corner of the ceiling above her has partially fallen, cracking open to show dark crystals shining like fresh-poured chocolate. The rest of the room glitters as if it's sprinkled with diamonds, every surface sparking in the light as she turns her head.

Like discovering God, she thinks.

She wonders if any human has ever seen this place. She does not want it all to herself. She's heard the caves have been a sanctuary for outlaws and Civil War soldiers and Cherokees fleeing the Trail of Tears, and she likes to think some of them stood on this same patch of ground, as dry-mouthed as she is.

She pulls off a glove and runs her bare hand down the crystals. She sinks to the balls of her feet, staring: she wants to come back here as she lies in bed tonight, to shut her eyes and take her time.

A chunk of white crystal drips from the ceiling like an old man's beard.

She shakes herself free, mindful of the limits of her lamp, and she has a moment of true panic when she thinks she won't be able to boost herself through the ceiling. The opening she dropped through is nearly at eye-level, but even with a jump, she can't lift her body weight. She tries a second time—a third—her hands scrabbling on the rock above her before she falls back, staggering. Her ankle throbs.

She takes a breath and jumps again, grabbing at the edge of the opening with both hands, swinging herself towards the wall. She fails a few times until, finally, she lands her feet solidly against the wall, pushing off with enough force that she works one elbow and then the next through the opening overhead. She wriggles the rest of the way, rolling onto her back until she catches her breath.

It feels like more than blood is pumping through her. It feels like she's full of light.

She launches herself back into the tight passageway towards the main cavern. Her headlamp flickers, and she freezes, but the flame surges again. It's a warning. She speeds up, glancing up every now and again at the twine she's tied to guide her way. Time stretches into taffy down here, unreliable, and she thinks she's been fast as she tumbles into a larger passageway, but her lamp goes out entirely.

She has her flashlight in her hand in seconds, shoving back the darkness before she's forced to acknowledge it. The batteries clank against the casing, and in two heartbeats, the beam of light lands on the knob of rock where she knotted her twine. She unloops it, relieved. She's on familiar ground now. She checks Gerald's old wristwatch, which has lodged halfway up her arm, and it's midnight already, but that's alright. The way to the elevator is almost entirely walkable from here, much faster than crawling.

She's just reached the domesticated part of the cave when she sees the dimmest of lights ahead, soft as a glowworm. She presses against the wall without conscious thought. She's had to delay her descent twice because of customers standing in view of the elevator, and once she ran into Ruby in the restaurant. But in the six times she's made it underground, she's always been alone. Leo has an army of electricians and mechanics and janitors working on the passageways, but they don't seem to work at night.

Excerpted from Ruby Falls by Gin Phillips. Copyright © 2026 by Gin Phillips. Excerpted by permission of Atlantic Crime. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.