In the Heat of the Tropics by Christina Elliott 💕 Fun Facts, Book Tour & Gift Card Giveaway 💕 (Romantic Suspense)

Tuesday, January 2, 2018

In the Heat of the Tropics by Christina Elliott 💕 Fun Facts, Book Tour & Gift Card Giveaway 💕 (Romantic Suspense)

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Amid a sweltering Miami summer, a serial killer is haunting the city. Reporter Ingrid Sorenson is assigned the story and her primary source is brusque detective Rick Gonzalez. The pair clash, but sparks of passion ignite. They risk their jobs to give in to their desire, but mistrust of each other’s career motives wedges them apart. Then Ingrid gets a tip that leads her into the killer’s lair. She and Rick must choose between saving themselves or rescuing their love.

I had a lot of fun writing In the Heat of the Tropics because I mined my own life for many scenes, elements and just little curious things.
Like my protagonist Ingrid Sorenson, I was a newspaper reporter in Miami. I worked at the Miami Herald, which was then located right on the waterfront of Biscayne Bay with a beautiful view of celebrity-studded Star Island and Miami Beach. Every now and then, dolphins and manatees would swim right in front of our building. Everyone would run over to the windows to watch them frolic. I used this as a scene in the novel where Ingrid meets her new colleagues. However, the bar where the reporters hang out was taken from a couple Irish pubs in New Jersey where my newspaper colleagues and I would frequent.

I used a number of real places in Miami for the book: Versailles, the famed Cuban restaurant, Calle Ocho-8th Street, the heart of Little Havana, and the colorful neighborhood of Little Haiti, to name a few. I also used the Everglades, where two Native American tribes have reservations. In the book, I use a fictional tribe called the Kees. Ingrid lives in a house in a suburb next to Miami, Coral Gables, and has decorated her home with souvenirs from her globetrotting trips, as I did. I also have her thinking about sweeping her driveway to clear all the red nut-like berries that palm trees drop. I used to constantly have to do that!
The Cuban cigars that prove a clue to the killer’s identity were ones my dad used to smoke: Romeo y Julietas. I still remember the gorgeous boxes they came in. I used that since there was a Cuban nexus with Miami.
I worked in a little tie-in from another book of mine into the plot. Ingrid’s best friend is Chloe Quinn, who’s working at a newspaper in New Jersey. Chloe is the protagonist of Girl on the Brink, a YA novel I wrote under another name. In that book, Chloe is a high school senior and aspiring newspaper reporter who falls for the wrong guy. It’s a suspenseful tale of dating violence, but Chloe emerges victorious where she uses her journalistic skills to defeat her adversary. In In the Heat of Tropics, she’s now older and embarked on her career. Since both stories involved journalists, I figured it would be cool to tie them together somehow.

Finally, I had a weird life-imitating-art, déjà vu sort of moment with this book. I was working as reporter in Los Angeles, where I now live, and I got to do a tour one day with a police sergeant named Rick of his particular area of the city. As we’re driving around, I suddenly realized I was actually living a scene from my book, when my detective character, also named Rick!, takes Ingrid out on a tour of the serial killer sites! I excitedly told the sergeant, but he didn’t fully appreciate the meaning of it. I think he thought I was hitting on him because I said it was a romance novel!

As Ingrid opened the door, Rick thrust a bouquet of white roses at her. “To make up for being out of touch,” he said.

She was touched by his thoughtfulness. “You didn’t have to do that, but thanks. They’re lovely. I’ll put them in a vase.” They entered and she disappeared into the kitchen.

“It was either flowers or chocolate,” he called as she disappeared into the kitchen. She filled a glass vase with water and set the roses in them.

“Good choice. I love chocolate, but I try to stay away from it,” she said, exiting the kitchen to place the vase in the center of the dining table.

“I figured. Chocolate can be a double-edged sword, but you can’t really go wrong with roses.”

“White’s an elegant color, too.”

“You’re an elegant lady.”

“You know all the lines.”

“I wish it was as simple as knowing lines.”

“It’s not, is it?” She gave him a bemused smile.

“You got that right. So how am I doing so far?”

“Mmmm.” Folding her arms, she tilted her head and squinted her eyes in a mock-study of him. “B-plus.”

“What? I thought I deserved at least an A-minus.”

“There’s always room for improvement.”

“Whoa, she’s tough, ladies and gentlemen.”

She laughed. “So, you ate pizza already.”

“I was starving and believe me, you don’t want to be around me when I’m hungry, but we can get you something to eat.”

“So you can do surveillance on me as I chow down?”

“You’re a feast for my eyes.”

Ingrid groaned. “Let’s get going before your lines make me lose my appetite.” She grabbed her purse.

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist.” He held open the front door for her. “I know a great empanada place in Coconut Grove. We could get a couple of them and go eat by the marina at a picnic table,” Rick said as he drove. “We can even sit side-by-side so I don’t have you under surveillance.”

“I love empanadas,” Ingrid said. “Definitely one of the best things I’ve discovered in Miami.”

“So am I up to an A-minus now?”

She laughed, suddenly feeling carefree and totally in the moment. “Yes, I’ll give you an A-minus for that.”

Christina Elliott is a former Miami newspaper reporter and editor. She now writes spicy romantic suspense novels from Los Angeles, where she’s glad to report there are far fewer bad-hair days but sadly far less Cuban coffee. She is a member of the Romance Writers of America.