Excerpt from Hot Air by Marcy Dermansky, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

"Thank God!" Johnny yelled.

"We're okay!" the man yelled.

And then the balloon tipped over, falling into the pool with a poignant splash. The man went under, headfirst. Joannie watched the bottoms of his leather shoes go under last. She had never seen anything like this.

Joannie was grateful not to be kissing Johnny anymore, and a man had fallen into the pool and needed saving. Joannie dove in. It was mid-May. The water was cold. She grabbed the man, putting her arms around his chest, and brought him up to the surface, kicking with her legs, and there at the end of the pool was Johnny and the woman in an evening gown, who had somehow climbed out of the basket onto dry land, and they were helping her pull the man out of the water. He began spouting water. Not dead. Not in need of CPR, which was a relief, because Joannie did not know how to give CPR. He was wearing a tuxedo.

Joannie pulled herself out of the pool on her own, while Johnny and the woman from the hot air balloon tended to the not-drowned man. Joannie could not believe how alive she felt. She felt amazing. She had saved a man's life. She had jumped into cold water. It was a tremendous combination. She could feel the grin on her face. She saw Johnny looking up at her and her smile extended to him. Maybe she would try kissing him again. Maybe she had been wrong.

"That was incredible," she said.

Joannie wondered about her daughter, wondered if she had seen the hot air balloon go into the pool, but the kids were in the windowless basement, watching the third Harry Potter movie.

* * *

The man in the tuxedo looked familiar to Joannie. She did not think that she knew him. Possibly he was famous.

"Joannie?" he said.

Joannie blinked.

She did know him.

From the news, yes, but also from sleepaway camp, a long time ago. He had been a dick. She had hated him.

"It's Jonathan," he said. "Jonathan Foster. It's been a long time. We went to camp together."

Joannie's first kiss had been with this man, when she was fourteen, when he was not the CEO of a major tech company. The kiss had taken place on the first day of camp. They were waiting for an activity to start and somehow instead took a walk around the camp, and they were behind the dining hall when he asked if he could kiss her. He was so good-looking, and he liked her, and it had been a good kiss, even—Joannie had felt her skin tingle—but that had been it. They never kissed again; they did not even hang out. They barely talked to each other. Jonathan had his group, the popular kids, and Joannie had hers, the oddballs and losers. Camp had been a lot like school that way. He never acknowledged that they'd ever kissed. It left Joannie doubting herself, wondering if it had ever happened. Had he kissed her? Had she imagined it? She was surprised that he remembered her name.

"You just saved my life," he said. "Oh my God. Joannie Nelson. Can you believe sometimes I still think about you?"

He said it like it was a gift, like this would mean something to her, which seemed crazy. His ego was astounding.

"That's weird," Joannie said. "I don't ever think about you."

The moment that followed felt awkward.

How were you supposed to behave after a hot air balloon crashed into a swimming pool on your first date in many years? This was new territory for Joannie. As a rule, Joannie didn't like rich people, but she thought that could change if she were to become one.

"My name is Jonathan, too," Johnny said. "But people call me Johnny. Welcome. Way to make an entrance, man."

The woman in the evening gown took off her high heels. She did not join the conversation. Instead, she walked over to the table where Johnny and Joannie had taken their drinks outside, picked up the bottle of red wine, and took a long slug. The group collectively stared at the hot air balloon that had sunk to the bottom of the pool.

From Hot Air. © 2025 by Marcy Dermansky. Excerpted by permission of Alfred A. Knopf, a division of Penguin Random House LLC. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.