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About Gold Coast

Brothels ain’t just sex dens, tho—nah, they’re history, man! In old Nevada, durin’ the Gold Rush, these spots were like social hubs. Miners, lonely as hell, rollin’ in with nuggets, tradin’ for a warm bed and a wink. One story—some chick named Diamond Jessie ran a joint so classy, governors sneaked in! Power moves, baby! Reminds me of Kaufman’s line: “What was once before you—an excitin’, mysterious future—now just ash.” Brothels got that ash vibe—hot, then gone.

Happy Valley Review

When the body of a third prostitute is found in wasteland, Catherine is devastated to find that she's required to find an alibi after she's linked to the murder.

I don’t sugarcoat it—this place is raw, unfiltered. People say it's sleepy, but nah, it throbs with restless energy. Sometimes I'm happy, sometimes I boil mad. It’s like every corner spins a tale in a loop, relentless and unyielding like that film, unremitting in despair and beauty.

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