When the voluptuous Karaha decides to attend an urban film festival, she has two goals in mind: to further develop her craft as a film maker and to once again taste that thing called love. After meeting two guys, one she does not really like but ends up bedding and another she thinks she likes but is unsure of how to approach, she leaves the festival with a broken spirit and deflated self-image. In the course of a year, Kahara battles with her inner demons of dejection; but with the help of a tall, slender boy toy with sexy “sad” eyes, she learns a lesson in self-forgiveness and finally accepts herself for who she is—a thick sistah with a firecracker-temper living the golden age of forty.

In Next Time , Cheryl Matlock embraces touchy issues that affect mature women universally. Overflowing with feelings of guilt, betrayal, and very low ideas of self-worth, after reading the first half of this novel I actually became a little depressed—which is a good thing. Matlock's storytelling drew me into the frustrating life of Kahara—almost to the point where I started thinking this woman sounds too familiar . . . But I wasn't frazzled for too long; there were a few sizzling hot love scenes that quickly made me forget the blues. By the end of the novel, I found myself thanking Kahara for being true to herself and showing other women that you must first love yourself before you can genuinely love someone else.