Spotlight & Giveaway: Kismet by Becky Chalsen

Today it is my pleasure to Welcome author Becky Chalsen to HJ!

Hi Becky and welcome to HJ! We’re so excited to chat with you about your new release, Kismet!

 
Hi! Welcome to Kismet, Fire Island
 

Please summarize the book for the readers here:

Kismet is the story of twin sisters Amy and Jo Sharp, on the cusp of turning thirty, in the lead-up to Jo’s wedding in their family beach town, Kismet, Fire Island. Amy arrives in Fire Island already reeling from a loss that has her doubting everything, when she finds herself face-to-face with the only man she ever had feelings for, other than her current high-school-sweetheart-turned-husband. As Jo balances animosity from her future in-laws and Amy deals with newfound doubts, the Sharp sisters will ultimately need to find their way back to each other and their relationships to save Jo’s wedding. It’s a novel about sisterhood, marriage, destiny, and the people and places that shape us.
 

Please share your favorite line(s) or quote from this book:

“Never a fan of an individual flower, I always felt my best as part of a bouquet. Our bouquet. We were all more beautiful, together.”

“There is always room enough for both of our heartaches and our joys. We grow together, that’s what we do.”

Please share a few Fun facts about this book…

• I wrote this book during the pandemic, desperate for an at-home hobby to entertain myself while my husband began Columbia’s Saturday MBA program. His classes were remote because of covid, and he was in Zoom school from 8am-8pm every Saturday. My “day job” had always been in book-to-film development, but this was my first time attempting to write a book of my own. By the first weekend writing, I was hooked!
• Because we were in lockdown when I started outlining (I am a ride-or-die plotter!) this story, I knew I wanted to set it in a place close to my heart. The title Kismet is drawn from the book’s setting, a real and incredible beach town called Kismet, Fire Island. I’ve spent a decade’s worth of summers in Kismet with my husband’s family (his parents even met in Fire Island!), and I’ve long been obsessed with its charm. Fire Island is only accessible by a half-hour ferry ride, so it has an innate feeling of vacation, of being plucked from time. There are no cars, and the only thing stronger than the sun rays are the cocktails. In short: it’s a perfect place for a romance novel.
• My characters are twin sisters because twins are a very defining part of my life. I am a quadruplet (all four girls) and my husband is an identical twin! (Yes, we are slightly nervous we might have octuplet children one day!)
• Whenever I hit a writing road block, I’d either blast Paper Rings by Taylor Swift or do a quick Melissa Wood Health pilates video. Both are great ways to get inspiration flowing!

What first attracts your Hero to the Heroine and vice versa?

It’s not a spoiler to say that our narrator Amy finds herself in a love triangle in this book. She shows up to Fire Island with her husband Ben. He’s her high school sweetheart, her best friend since childhood. She’s always loved how calm he makes her, how he’s smart and caring and good-natured. They have a shared history and a shared knowledge that makes their love easy, a perfect fit.

Emmett is the one that got away… or at least, that’s what Amy fears. He’s the one person Amy ever dated or had feelings for besides Ben. They met when Amy and Ben were on a break their freshman fall semester, and fell quickly in a different type of attraction. Emmett is brilliant and destined for greatness. He is well-traveled and represents something new. But Amy reconciles with Ben, and Emmett becomes a path not taken. Until he shows up in Fire Island, a friend of Jo’s new groom. Amy loves how he’s still this brilliant mind, traveling the world for his writing career, famous enough to attract groupies, all while wearing a sexy flannel (her weakness? probably.) To Amy, Emmett becomes a representation for every way her life could have looked. She loves the feeling of that possibility, and will spend the pages of Kismet discovering which feels truest to her.

Did any scene have you blushing, crying or laughing while writing it? And Why?

I was definitely blushing when I wrote the first solo Emmett and Amy scene. It’s the first time that the two of them have been alone in over a decade. Emmett was hit by a volleyball during the game of beach volleyball, so Amy was tasked with taking him to the guest bathroom for first aid and an ice pack.

It’s that flirty sense of natural chemistry, but Amy isn’t sure if it’s just a reminder of how she used to feel about him in college, or if it’s something real now. Until this point, they’d been ignoring each other, pretending to be strangers, so I loved forcing them into this small space to finally acknowledge the situation they’ve found themselves in. To really take each other in again for the first time in so long. They decide, for the sake of the wedding, to keep up the pretenses that they don’t know each other. Here’s a snippet:

##

But right as my hand grasped the doorknob, Emmett playfully grabbed hold of my ankle. The contact sent a shock through my lower body. Still sitting cross-legged on the floor, he looked up at me with a boyish smirk.
“Maybe let’s try just ignoring each other instead?” I offered.
“Now who’s messing it up?” He clucked his tongue, which only made it harder to avoid thinking about his mouth, his lips, his teeth.
“You are so annoying,” I said, but I could feel my face morphing into a smile.
“Emmett Murphy,” he said again, palm once again outstretched in greeting.
I relented. “Amy Sharp,” I said. “Sister of the bride.” Emmett waved his hand in my direction with a satisfied grin. Still outstretched, he was now waiting for a handshake as well as some help up off the tiled floor.
“All right, all right,” I tucked my hand in his and pulled him up, shaking my head all the while. “Time to go.” Yet Emmett kept hold of my fingers even once he was standing, our eyes now face-to-faces, noses almost touching. My breath caught, my world silenced. All I could think was how he smelled exactly the same. Cinnamon and fire. Ready to explode.
“Very nice to meet you,” he said.”
I forced a swallow down my throat. It burned.
“So, how about that ice pack?”

Readers should read this book….

If they are looking for an honest, heartfelt novel about love and destiny. It’s a story of sisterhood and finding a way back to your family, but also about the commitment that comes with marriage, of all that happens after the “happily ever after.” Amy and Ben fell in love as kids, but that doesn’t mean everything else is easy. I wanted to explore the realities of a high school sweetheart romance, all the doubts that are natural but sometimes less told. And it’s all set against the sunset-soaked backdrop of a gorgeous, fun-loving beach town (we’re talking bonfires, 4th of July Parades, you name it.)

What are you currently working on? What other releases do you have in the works?

I am working on a second book! It’s similarly set in Fire Island, but in a town called Ocean Beach, a few towns over from Kismet. I can’t share much else about it yet, but it follows a group of friends renting a share house for the summer. Drama ensues!
 

Thanks for blogging at HJ!

Giveaway: A print copy of Kismet by Becky Chalsen

To enter Giveaway: Please complete the Rafflecopter form and Post a comment to this Q: Are there any people, places, or situations in your life that feel like destiny? What is your very own “kismet”?

 
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Excerpt from Kismet:

THE STAGE WAS SET FOR A PERFECT EVENING. It was a warm night, and the sky was that magnificent kaleidoscope of colors that melted right into the ocean. Summer Wind’s pool deck had been transformed into a cocktail party scene, and a staff of blue-polo-clad bartenders and servers from the Out arrived to pour cocktails and pass hors d’oeuvres. This was the most intimate night of the week’s activities, with only the bride, groom, parents, and closest friends and family members, so my mom and dad wanted to make it an extra-special welcome. We knew how much it meant to Jo and Dave that these guests were willing to take a week off from their lives to celebrate, so the festivity felt more like an earnest thank-you to the partygoers than a standard kick-off night for the bride and groom.

Even still, Jo and Dave opened the evening with a quick but lovely welcome speech. The first of many thank-yous to my parents for hosting, to the guests for making the multi-vehicular trip, to each other for being “the one.” It seemed whatever flicker of annoyance Jo exhibited toward Dave’s wedding-planning indifference had washed off faster than sunscreen in the ocean.

I might not have predicted Dave as Jo’s first pick, considering her track record of Murray Hill boyfriends. Her past was filled with athletes and bankers who’d meet our parents and then meet the curb before we ever fully remembered their names. “Dating is like touring the whole world in just one city,” Jo would say. Yet most of the times, she’d fly home alone. Jo loved romance but hated tethers more. She could barely stay in the same apartment for a year, and a steady relationship was even more terrifying than a fixed mailing address. After a shaky high school breakup, her romantic life fared no exception: the constant fear of being tied down kept Jo claustrophobically single.

Now, I raised my glass and sipped away my silent surprise. She shone. They both shone. Like a couple anchored in a long-lasting love.

I just hoped the rope wouldn’t fray.

After their speech, I made my way over to where Dave was standing with his parents, eager, though slightly unnerved, to perform the sisterly duty of introducing myself to his frowning family at last. Dave looked a bit tense, not thrilled with something his mother, Valerie, was whispering into his ear. They were a glamorous but intimidating sight. From what Jo had told me, his parents were both academics like Dave. His father, Conrad, taught economics at Columbia, and Valerie had taught art history at Barnard before leaving to curate new exhibits at the Whitney Museum. Dave joked that he had been an accidental homework assignment for the young scholars, but no one risked mistaking it: his parents worshipped the ground on which he strode.

During the engagement period, Valerie had checked in regularly with my mom, volleying curt and perfunctory questions regarding the menu, the dress selection, the guest list. Everything, really. Offering opinions and criticism, welcome or not. Through it all, my mom swore (well, hoped) that they were well-meaning, just a bit rough around the edges. They were simply born-and-bred Manhattanites, emulating a particularity that could translate into haughtiness toward the unwarned.

Wooing them would be my personal challenge.

“Mr. and Mrs. Beaumont, so nice to finally meet you both,” I sang, coating my voice with parent-charming sugar.

“This is Amy, Jo’s twin sister,” Dave added, after his parents remained uncomfortably silent. “She’s an accountant.”

Crickets.

“Can I get anyone anything? Mrs. Beaumont, I love those pants,” I chimed in again. Awkward silences wouldn’t deter my attempts.

“Please, call me Valerie,” she said at last, extending her hand in my direction. Her fingers felt frigid despite the still-setting sun.

“Your family did a wonderful job with the space out here. The furniture makes it look much bigger than it is,” her husband, Conrad, finally added.

“Oh yes. And all those lanterns with the citronella are quite something. I didn’t realize how buggy it was on Fire Island. I think I already have a bite on my elbow.” Valerie outstretched her arm so I could inspect the nascent bump. “Shame. We’re going to have to pick up some bug spray tomorrow, Conrad. This won’t do.”

I hoped my face wasn’t as pale as it felt. “Can I refill your glasses?” I asked, “Rosé, maybe, or something stronger?”

“I’d take a tequila,” Conrad said, but one quick, stern glare from Valerie prompted a new selection. “Actually, just another prosecco would be grand. Thanks, doll.”

I headed to the bar, leaving the Beaumonts as quickly as I’d arrived. Jo was right: Dave’s parents were something else. Especially Valerie. But weren’t all mothers‑in‑law?

Sure, I reasoned, there was a range of in‑law characteristics, any combination of outwardly condemnatory or silently critical, vocally instigative or passively aggressive, controlling or too laissez-faire, that it made the bride doubt if she was even welcomed into her new family structure. Even Ben’s mom was no exception, despite having known her for over two decades. Let’s just say we had our fair share of “It’s fine, I’m just disappointed” phone calls, especially when I announced that I wouldn’t be changing my last name. This week, we would have to wait and see where Valerie would fall on the in‑law‑to‑be spectrum.

At the end of the day, there were inherent growing pains tied to a parent’s realization that they were losing their front-row-center seats to a child’s life. As soon as a son was engaged, his bride took on the role of a frazzled usher at a theater, awkwardly telling a guest they were sitting in the wrong row. “Apologies, we hate to do this, but would you mind standing up and coming into the aisle and moving to the back, please?” Scratch that: the bride was actually that smug audience member standing right behind the usher, grinning with the knowledge that they just scored the best view in the house, even if it meant kicking out the unfortunate souls settled there before them. How a mother‑in‑law handled the internalization of that transition could make or break a wedding-planning process. I wasn’t saying it was right or wrong, just that mandatory therapy for all involved might not be such a bad idea.

I handed Conrad a bubbling glass of prosecco with a polite smile before excusing myself back to the party. I looked around and, for what felt like the first time all day, let myself relax. Jo was catching up with Bobby, while Mary and Ben were playing cornhole with Dave’s sister, Lila, and cousin Tyler. We had also invited our closest family friends in Kismet, who were now making their way through the backyard, introducing themselves to the new faces while heaping hugs on the old. It finally began to feel like a holiday weekend, a wedding, a celebration. Not to mention a thirtieth birthday in a few days, provided anyone managed to remember it.

I made eye contact with Ben from across the pool, who smiled and mouthed, “Tequila shots?” Coming right up.

We could do this.

But when I turned to the bar, I felt my face turn white.

“Are you okay, Amy? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” the bartender said.

I had.

There, walking into our backyard with a hostess gift of Dom Pérignon in one hand and a card in the other, was a man I hadn’t seen in almost ten years. A man whose existence I’d spent the past decade trying to forget. A man who was now staring directly at me. And smiling.

Emmett.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
 
 

Book Info:

A sun-soaked debut about love, sisterhood, and destiny, set in the glorious beach town of Kismet, Fire Island . . . Can Amy’s marriage survive Jo’s wedding?

For as long as anyone can remember, it has been Amy, Jo, and Ben. Amy and Jo, the inseparable Sharp twins who couldn’t be more different; and Ben, Amy’s childhood sweetheart turned husband.

But as this year’s Fourth of July weekend approaches, something feels off. Jo’s whirlwind engagement and wedding ceremony now eclipses the twins’ long-awaited thirtieth birthday. Recent arguments between Amy and Ben have left their marriage feeling more like make-believe than ever-after. And as the family beach town transforms for Jo’s wedding weekend, Amy’s trusted trio will be tested by the most unexpected hurdle yet: the arrival of a handsome, mysterious newcomer in a best man suit. One with a strikingly familiar face. A face that Amy had planned to never see again.

This holiday weekend, even the strongest SPF won’t protect the Sharp twins from all the secrets about to take center stage.
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Meet the Author:

Becky Chalsen is a film/TV development executive at the production company Sunday Night. She is a graduate of the University of Pennsylvania, and now lives in New York City. Becky is a quadruplet and married to her high school sweetheart — an identical twin — whose family has spent summers on Fire Island for more than three decades. Kismet is her first novel.
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