"Call her Phoenix Rose, and watch the air begin to shimmer. She is the scent of woodsmoke and wild gardenia, a crimson combustion that refuses to be quenched. Her passion is a red-shift in the atmosphere, a sacred heat that proves even the softest bloom can rise, screaming and radiant, from its own beautiful ash."
"Call her Phoenix Rose, and watch the air begin to shimmer. She is the scent of woodsmoke and wild gardenia, a crimson combustion that refuses to be quenched. Her passion is a red-shift in the atmosphere, a sacred heat that proves even the softest bloom can rise, screaming and radiant, from its own beautiful ash."