The Shape of a Heart — an expanded rerelease now available! by Kimberly Gardner

With the approach of Valentines Day I am happy to announce the rerelease of my novella, The Shape of a Heart from Loose-ID.

If you’d like to win a copy of the rereleased novella, leave me a comment and I’ll pick a winner at random from the commenters.

The Shape of a Heart
By Kimberly Gardner
ISBN: 978-1-61118-724-3
Genre: LGBT Contemporary
Length: Novella

Grieving after the death of his partner, Zach finds comfort amidst bookshelves and coffee beans in the arms of his new employee. He doesn’t know if the
shape of his heart is intact enough to risk falling in love again, but Keith shores him up with faith. Keith doesn’t know if the shape of his heart is
solid enough to live in one place without constantly looking over his shoulder, but Zach fills the holes with laughter and passion.

Just as the two men begin to explore their attraction, a secret from Keith’s past threatens their new-found happiness and tests the strength of their tender,
new love.

Cover Art by April Martinez

* Note: This novella is a re-edited and expanded rerelease of an earlier work.

Excerpt

Copyright 2012 by Kimberly Gardner, all rights reserved.

Zach pounded away on the computer keys. He focused on his task, entering updates to the store’s inventory so he wouldn’t have to think about what he’d done the night before with Keith. Right there in the café, for sweet Christ’s sake! He must have lost his fucking mind! Stripping the kid bare-ass naked and jerking them both off like they were in the backseat on prom night.
But God, it had been good. Fast and hot and exactly what he needed.
And Keith was no kid. He was nearly thirty, despite the fact that he didn’t look old enough to buy a beer without ID. Zach himself was only thirty-eight. So at least no one could accuse him of robbing the cradle.
“Just stupidity.” Zach finished entering the last of the data and clicked Save.
The screen went dark for a moment, then blue.
“Goddamnit!” He slammed his fist down on the desk.
Without much hope, he hit the Enter key. When nothing happened, he went for Control-Alt-Delete.
Nothing. The screen remained obstinately blue, filled with meaningless gobbledygook, the computer equivalent of being flipped the proverbial bird.
“Fucking piece of shit.” Zach seized the keyboard, not sure what he meant to do.
A light tap sounded at the office door.
“What is it?” Zach dropped the keyboard on the desk. The door opened.
Keith stood in the doorway, a steaming mug of coffee and a croissant balanced in one hand, the other on the doorknob, a tentative smile playing around his lips. His gaze flicked from Zach’s face to the monitor and back. “Got the blue screen of death, huh?”
“Looks that way.”
Keith took a step closer, then another. “Not much you can do when that happens.”
“Except trash the worthless piece of shit.”
“I’d try rebooting the worthless piece of shit first.” The smile blossomed. It was like the sun suddenly coming out on a dreary day and shining down on him.
Zach’s stomach fluttered—that low-in-the-belly, butterfly feeling he’d nearly forgotten, it had been so long since he’d felt it. And he’d only ever felt it for one other man.
Great, Zach thought, even as the answering smile curved his lips. So much for a casual fuck buddy. Clearly, he couldn’t even have that with this man. Keith Harte was too tempting, too appealing, too…dangerous.
He’d half expected that Keith would either not show up at all this morning, or if he did, that it would only be to tell Zach off for, once again, acting like a total asshole, then to quit. But here he was, smiling at Zach and teasing him, if he was reading the glint in those whiskey-colored eyes right. And besides, you didn’t bring someone coffee and croissants when you came in to quit.
So maybe…
“I thought you might want some coffee.” Keith held out the mug. Steam curled above the rim of the cup.
The delectable scent of rich French roast reached Zach’s nostrils. He inhaled, savoring the aroma of the coffee and not, he told himself, the light, citrusy scent of Keith’s cologne.
When Zach didn’t move, Keith set the mug on the edge of the desk and the croissant on a paper napkin beside it.
“The croissants are still warm.” His leg brushed Zach’s, the contact electric in the tiny office. Neither of them backed off or broke the casual touch.
“Smells good,” Zach said. His gaze slid down Keith’s body, the memory of how he’d looked laid out on the pristine white marble counter—naked, skin flushed with arousal, cum-splattered and beautiful—fresh enough to have Zach’s prick sitting up and taking notice.
“Thanks. I hope it tastes good.” Keith licked his lips. He shifted from foot to foot, his leg rubbing along Zach’s thigh.
All he’d have to do was shove the door shut, pull Keith down to straddle his lap, unzip them both, and ease the sudden ache in his balls with a few strokes of his hand. Or Keith’s hand. Or maybe even Keith’s mouth.
And Keith would let him. Zach knew it as surely as he knew his own name, which was why he wouldn’t do it.
“Zach?”
“What?” He tried to roll his chair back, gain some space. But he was wedged between the desk and the file cabinet. Trapped.
“I said, ‘I hope the croissant will be good.’ What did you think I said?”
“Nothing. I don’t know. Of course it’ll be good—the croissant, I mean.” Heat flooded Zach’s cheeks.
God, he sounded like an idiot. Of course, he meant the croissant. What else?
But oh, how he’d wanted to taste Keith last night, had thought all the way home about leaning down and licking their mingled seed off that taut belly. The image was so vivid and persistent that by the time he’d gotten home, he was hard again.
“So…” Keith slipped his thumbs into his front pockets, then pulled them out. He shifted and propped a hip on the corner of the desk.
What was he doing? Besides standing way too close.
Zach found himself making eye contact with Keith’s crotch. Jesus, he could see the outline of Keith’s cock so clearly under those dark chinos.
Zach tore his gaze away. He had to look anywhere but there. Thank God Rhonna was in the store. He could hear the rustle and thud as she shelved titles somewhere not too far away. At least her being there would save them both from his baser instincts.
“I was wondering if you’d have dinner with me tomorrow night.”
Well, shit. Far from quitting or ripping him a new one, Keith was asking him out. “Dinner?”
“Yeah, it’s that meal that people usually eat at the end of the day. I’m sure you’ve heard of it.” Keith grinned. “Sometimes when two people eat it together, it’s known as a date.” He winked.
Zach’s belly did that fluttery thing again. “I don’t think—”
“If tomorrow’s not good, we could do Friday or Saturday.”
Christ. He couldn’t do this. He opened his mouth to say, “No, thanks,” or make up an excuse or…something.
“It’s not that. I just—”
“Do you like salmon? I know this great fish place. Or if you’re more of a carnivore…”
“You aren’t going to let me say no, are you?”
There was a long pause. Then very quietly, Keith said, “It’s just dinner, Zach.”

http://www.loose-id.com/The-Shape-of-a-Heart.aspx

Written by Kimberly Gardner

As early as the seventh grade, Kimberly remembers slashing her favorite rockstars and reading romance. So it’s not surprising that her two passions, romance and putting pretty boys with other pretty boys, should come together in her writing. Moliere said, “Writing is like prostitution. First you do it for love, then for a few close friends, then for money.” Kimberly is delighted to finally be doing it for money.
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