Wednesday Sampler: Next Year I’ll Be Perfect by Laura Kilmartin


In our mission to connect readers, writers, and books, Caleb and Linda Pirtle is showcasing some of the best authors in the marketplace today. Wednesday’s Sampler features an excerpt from Next Year I’ll Be Perfect, a light-hearted, romantic romp from Laura Kilmartin.

As one reviewer said: Most women will be able to relate to Sarah and her journey towards what she perceives as perfection. A wonderful portrayal of a twenty something and the fun, along with the heartache she encounters along the way.

The Story

Sarah always thought her life was on track, that is until her twenty-ninth birthday party. The discovery of a list her younger self put together outlining what she wanted to achieve by the age of thirty turns Sarah’s world upside down.

Suddenly her seemingly happy life and career look lackluster and Sarah sets off on a journey to transform her life. On her quest to achieve perfection one month at a time – a happy marriage, partnership in a law firm and being able to fit in a size six purple suede miniskirt – Sarah learns to challenge society’s ideals of achievement.

Filled with harsh reality, humor, and romance, Next Year I’ll Be Perfect explores what true happiness and success is all about.

The Sampler

Laura Kilmartin
Laura Kilmartin

I think tonight is that big charity event David’s attending at the Metropolitan Opera House,” Eddie piped in, already moving toward the kitchen.

I nodded, remembering David mentioning his plans before I’d launched into the conversation about the building appraisal. “I think you’re right.  Do you know who he’s bringing?  Barbie or Midge?”

Eddie burst out laughing at my comment, drawing his father’s narrow gaze and low growl.  I was lucky to sidestep any admonishment as I went to heat up our supper in the kitchen.  I might have felt bad if my characterization of David’s girlfriends was in any way wrong.

A very intelligent and sensitive man in most areas of his life, David Thornton’s criteria for choosing women hadn’t changed much from the time he was thirteen years old.  Namely, the flashier, blonder and better endowed a woman was, the more David was attracted.  I was never quite sure where he found these women, but after one or two dates he always ended up sorely disappointed and highly surprised that dinner conversation was limited to stories covered in US Weekly.  In fact, knowing David’s type of woman was one of the main arguments I used against Livvie’s theory that my friend was attracted to me.

I hated to label him as shallow, because David always ended his relationship with the bimbette of the week when he discovered they couldn’t make a deep connection.  The tragedy was that he never quite figured out that a woman with a lifelong dream of being shaved by Howard Stern might not be able to hold up her end of a conversation about the Dow Jones Industrial Average.

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