Actually there is no trouble with hot tubs. Unless you happen to be a suspense writer who began a novel with a not-so-pleasant event in said setting. If you're that person, replacing the hot tub in your own backyard--yes, the very one that inspired the gruesome scene in Violet Dawn--can lead to a little more than you bargained for.
The delivery had to be coordinated, see. We had a major backyard redo going on, with workers running all over the place. Landscape people. Decking people. Rubble everywhere, and the new hot tub would have to be trucked across the yard after the old one was taken out. As a result I spent more than a little time on the phone with the manager of the store from which we bought the new tub. We had to change the delivery date three times as our huge project's completion kept getting pushed back. The manager? That would be Bev Jacquemet at Sundance Spas in San Mateo, California. Nicest person. Just chats away and makes you feel like you can really trust the company. And every time our delivery got moved as we needed, no complaints on their part.
Somewhere in one of our chats the fact that I write suspense sort of leaked out (pun intended). "Oh, wow!" Bev said. "I love suspense."
"Great. When this fiasco is all over I'll bring you a book. I've got the perfect one in mind for you."
So post completion--finally--of our beautiful new backyard and the hot tub installation, which went without a hitch, I dropped in to see the lovely folks at Sundance once afternoon. Carting a copy of Violet Dawn, which I signed for Bev. "Okay, don't hate me. But more than one person's told me they're never going in a hot tub again after reading this book. I don't really have it out for your industry. It just appears that way."
Bev promised not to hold my terrible faux pas against me.
I'd brought a camera. Somehow we ended up in a hot tub. (An empty one.) Well, after all, it is a showroom of the things. We had our pick. We chose a big one. Another employee, Leah, was working the counter. She wanted in on the action.
Somehow the three of us just standing there with Bev holding the book didn't quite do the trick. The scene needed ... something.
There. That's better.
Bev loved Violet Dawn, by the way. Of course she had to say that. Or I might come back and strangle her again.