Love Lies Beneath (Thorndike Press Large Print Core Series), by Ellen Hopkins
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Love Lies Beneath (Thorndike Press Large Print Core Series), by Ellen Hopkins
Download Ebook Online Love Lies Beneath (Thorndike Press Large Print Core Series), by Ellen Hopkins
A #1 New York Times Bestselling Author From the bestselling author of Collateral and Triangles comes a gripping novel about a woman caught in a love affair that could be her salvation . . . or her undoing. Writing in beautiful prose, Ellen Hopkins unveils a new style while evoking the signature poetic form that readers love.
Love Lies Beneath (Thorndike Press Large Print Core Series), by Ellen Hopkins- Amazon Sales Rank: #8538690 in Books
- Published on: 2015-11-25
- Format: Large Print
- Original language: English
- Number of items: 1
- Dimensions: 1.10" h x 5.70" w x 8.60" l, .0 pounds
- Binding: Hardcover
- 534 pages
Review Praise for Love Lies Beneath: "Hopkins is at her best in this outstanding novel written in gorgeous prose and interspersed with her signature free verse between chapters. She leaves no stone unturned and keeps the reader guessing until the very last pages. This fabulous, sex-filled masterpiece of mystery and romance has an ending that will give readers major chills." (Library Journal (starred review))"The characters are strong, the writing is vivid, and the plot is engaging." (Booklist)Praise for Collateral: “Uplifting and heartbreaking... featuring characters grappling with the serious issues of our time.” (Publishers Weekly)“Searing. . . . Hopkins examines the highs and lows of the mercurial nature of a relationship with someone whose first loyalty is to his (or her) country.” (The Denver Post)“Hopkins examines the difficulties often overlooked in military marriages, such as limited communication, infidelity, worry over injury, loneliness, and the physical and mental issues of returning veterans. . . . The story will appeal to many readers.” (Library Journal)Praise for Triangles: “Though Hopkins is known mostly for her young-adult novels, her latest is an absorbing grown-up story, told in beautiful blank verse, about three friends with messy family and romantic lives.” (EW.com ("Must-List" pick))“Hopkins delivers a raw and riveting tale of love and forgiveness that will captivate readers.” (Publisher's Weekly)
About the Author Ellen Hopkins is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of eleven young adult novels, as well as the adult novels Triangles, Collateral, and Love Lies Beneath. She lives with her family in Carson City, Nevada, where she has founded Ventana Sierra, a nonprofit youth housing and resource initiative. Visit her at EllenHopkins.com and on Facebook, and follow her on Twitter at @EllenHopkinsLit.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. Love Lies Beneath
One
As gyms go, this one is exceptionally clean. Hardwood gleams beneath the December sun flurrying down through the fog-misted skylight, and the place smells more like floor polish than the afternoon regulars’ liberal drips of sweat. Even the Pilates mats manage to shed the odor of perspiration, and that pleases me. I prefer to inhale the scent of exertion only during coition. Coition. Good word. Appears before “coitus” in the dictionary, and though they mean the same thing, the softer “shun” sounds chicer than the “tus” to my ear. Not that class is requisite to the act itself, but in conversation, tone is everything. “Tara! Concentrate. Your form is terrible. Straighten your back. Lift your chest.” I do as instructed but complain, “Squats stink. And anyway, I thought you appreciated my form.” Nick slinks closer, bends to lower his face close to mine, and I wait for his tongue to tease the pulse beneath my ear. Instead, he slaps my behind, hard enough to sting. “You told me your goal is perfection. You’re not there yet.” His words slap sharper than the gesture. “That’s why you need me.” Honestly, most personal trainers could accomplish the task. I’ve handpicked a half dozen over the years, trying them on for size, so to speak. I’ve kept Nick the longest because of ability above and beyond, not to mention outside of the gym. I do enjoy specialized service, and Nick has exceptional talents. Still, he has bruised my ego. “I don’t need you at all, Mr. de la Rosa. In fact, I think we’re finished . . .” The look on his face is priceless. I’m an excellent tipper. “With squats and thrusts and weights, at least for today. As for the postworkout workout, give me thirty to shower and I’ll meet you out front.” “You are a wicked, wicked woman. Almost scary, in fact.” “Almost? You underestimate me, sir.” Our little exchange did not go unnoticed, and envious eyes follow my retreat toward the women’s shower room. That’s correct, ladies. He and I are doing the filthy, and you’re right to be jealous. What Nick de la Rosa may lack in discretionary income, he more than makes up for in carnal creativity. Who needs to go out when one can have so much fun staying in, playing doctor? My locker is well stocked with aromatic soaps and lotions, but before I use those I take a few minutes to douche away feminine fragrance, heightened by the previous ninety minutes of effort. One of my exes called me fastidious. Another claimed I’m obsessively clean. But, as my late, great first husband once told me, “A sweet pussy invites the tongue to tango.” I plan on plenty of oral dance in an hour or so. Meanwhile, I run the water hot, perfume my hair with gardenia-scented shampoo, and soften my skin to silk with this fabulous vanilla-cedar shower gel. My eyes are closed against the final rinse of conditioner when a voice flutters softly within the tiled walls. “What is that amazing incense smell?” “It’s body wash from Kiehl’s.” “Expensive?” “Not too.” I blink away water, and when I identify the person on the far side of the conversation, I hope the showerhead’s splash disguises the serrated intake of my breath. Penelope teaches yoga, and while she’s something to see in a tank top and stretch pants, naked she is simply exquisite. In a side-by-side comparison, I can hold my own against pretty much any woman here. But Penelope is one of those rare young things whose obviously natural curves and fawn suede complexion rival anything my pricey plastic surgeon could accomplish. If I had hackles, they’d be bristling. “You can find the body wash online. Vanilla and cedarwood.” I grab a towel, cover my imperfect assets, and try not to stare at Penelope as she and I trade places. For the next twenty minutes, I work serums and moisturizer into my skin before applying foundation. Not sure why I’m bothering. It will all come dripping off in a little while. Oh well. At least I’ll look attractive until then and turn a few heads on my way to the door. December shrouds San Francisco in gray. I step out into the heavy, wet curtain and am happy I took the time to blow-dry my hair, which is long and thick and would stay damp otherwise. My stylist calls it problematic because it takes extra time to color. But I’m determined to keep it as close to its original fox red as possible. My sister is two years younger, and at not quite thirty-nine her hair has gone completely silver. It’s actually striking on her, but the look would be wrong for me. I stand back against the building beneath a wide awning, watching sidewalk travelers hustle by. Everyone walks quickly here, worried more about what’s behind them than the appointments waiting for them up ahead. It’s an eclectic stream—high school kids with prominent piercings, street dwellers of various ages and genders, a young black woman in short leather, an older white man in ankle-length mink. It’s quite the show, and I’m enjoying it well enough until it strikes me that I’ve been loitering here for a very long time. I look in through the big plate-glass window, beyond weight machines and treadmills. Oh, there he is, in loose jeans and a flimsy flannel shirt that doesn’t exactly hide all the lovely musculature I’ve almost memorized. Nick starts in this direction, but before he can take a dozen steps, Penelope cozies up behind him, pouts against the back of his neck, and lifts on her toes slightly, saying something into his ear. He spins and now his face is hidden. But I can see hers clearly. Her smile is more than flirtatious. It’s tinted with affection. And her eyes, locked on his, tell a story I really don’t want to know. I have hackles after all. Rage sizzles, white-hot, and my hands tremor. Unreasonably, it’s Penelope my inner bitch wants to maul. It’s not her fault Nick wants his steak and his cupcake, too. She must sense the devil’s gaze, because her head swivels, side to side. When she glances over Nick’s shoulder and notices me glaring through the glass, she gives him a playful shove. Does she realize he’s meeting me? Do they have some quirky arrangement? Nick turns his back on pretty Penelope, heads straight for the door, and when it opens a shock wave of anger hits him square. He looks at me, and I swear he has no idea why I’m pissed. “What’s wrong?” I force my voice low and level. “Why do you think something’s wrong?” “Well, I don’t know, Tara. Maybe it’s your body language.” He reaches for my elbow, tries to steer me clear of curious eyes on the far side of the window. I yank my arm away and hold my ground. “Do not touch me again unless I say it’s okay. Understand?” He nods, dumbstruck, and I continue. “Does she know we’re sleeping together?” “Does who know?” “Stop playing stupid! God, I hate when men play stupid! Penelope. Does she know? You two obviously have something going on.” Nick starts up the sidewalk, sure I’ll follow, or at the very least let him leave me standing here like an idiot. “You don’t own me, bitch.” I have no choice but to take the bait. But I’m not going to be gutted without a fight. I catch up to him and strike from behind, jabbing with words. “I’m sorry, Nick. I thought you liked our arrangement, that it was mutually beneficial.” He stops, turns to face me. “I do like it. But there was never any mention of exclusivity.” “You are seeing Penelope, then?” “Well, yeah. And others. It’s not like I’m engaged to any of you. Like I said, you don’t own me.” Maggot. “I believe you said, ‘You don’t own me, bitch.’ ” The smirk slips from his face. “Uh yeah, guess I did, and I’m sor—” “Shut up.” Damage control? I don’t think so. “No one talks to me like that, Nick, least of all hired help. And, make no mistake, that’s exactly what you are . . . uh, were. I do hope your ‘others’ are as generous as I have been, because there will be no more under-the-table supplemental income from me. Come to think of it, I might have to 1099 you.” My turn to smirk, and he doesn’t like it. “Go ahead and try. You paid me in cash and can’t prove a thing.” That makes me laugh. “Do you really think I wouldn’t take steps to protect myself, just in case you turned out to be the weasel you are? You know those nanny-cam things? So happens I have a boudoir cam. I don’t suppose you ever noticed I always paid you before you got out of bed?” Not completely true, but close enough. The camera covers the entire room. Anyway, it’s not like I’d really 1099 him, but it won’t hurt to make him sweat a little. Damn, I am going to miss his sweat. But I could never have sex with him again, knowing he might have just come from someone else’s bed. Who wants to sleep with a harem? “So, we’re finished?” Cheeky little bastard. “You needed confirmation of that?” “What about the gym?” “This city is crawling with personal trainers. I’m sure I can find another one as multifaceted as you. Meanwhile, I can handle my own workouts. I really don’t need you, or anyone, to tell me how to squat.” I start to walk away. Turn back. “You never did say if Penelope knew about me.” He stares at me stupidly for a moment. Then he dares, “I didn’t see the need to disclose the dirty details.” My hackles lower and I smile. “I think I should take up yoga. Don’t you?” I turn my back on him, and as I start to walk away he calls, “You say one word to her and you will be very sorry.” In a low, measured voice, I reply, “I hope that’s not a threat. This is a game you can’t win.” He changes tactics. “You don’t understand. I love her.” “Then why have you been fucking me?” I leave before he can answer. Wounded. Envious. I don’t even know what love feels like. It’s unfair an asshole like Nick should know. But if it’s even remotely like having sex on the side with whomever, all the while claiming your heart is taken, maybe it’s just as well that it’s outside my realm of experience.
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Most helpful customer reviews
3 of 3 people found the following review helpful. Unlikeable characters and too graphic By booklover343 I'm surprised at the many great reviews of this novel. Frankly, I barely finished it. In fact, I stopped in the middle, read another book, and then did finish it.First of all it is too graphic. The constant repetitious descriptions of Tara's giving oral sex, getting oral sex, getting manipulated to orgasm were not needed. I don't care if a character is being manipulated with one, two or three fingers of her partner. Really! The author could have used some subtlety for heaven's sake.It's hard for me to really like a novel without one likeable character. This book had none for me. Not one. Tara could best be described as a sexual predator...picking up men in restaurants and going to their hotels, screwing around with her personal trainer at the gym and then when she finds out he is also seeing someone else, she gets him fired by saying he was being inappropriate with her. Blatant lie.There were many inconsistencies in the story. Tara, who is very computer savvy, does not seem to have her email password protected. She is focused on her security in SOME areas but clearly not in others. At the time of the story she has been married three times...widowed once and divorced twice. It seems she made a pile of money in each marriage. Even at the time of the novel, she is described as a very successful fund-raiser, but during the book only seems to work for a couple of days.And would someone REALLY opt to have extensive knee surgery at a hospital in Lake Tahoe instead of San Francisco where she lives? Seems like she chose the hospital to be near the man she was dating (though only for a short time). She is described as being very focused on fitness, and I think someone like that would choose the best hospital around. And if she is THAT allergic to something, wouldn't she check the ingredients of what she drank?There are poems sprinkled throughout the book. I guess they were by the author but they just seemed odd and not very good.The book sort of just ends. There is a quick explanation about some things but others are left hanging. Frankly, it did not bother me because I just didn't care about Tara.If there is a sequel, I certainly won't buy it!
3 of 3 people found the following review helpful. Uneven adult novel by the author of Crank By Cecile Sune Tara lives in San Francisco and is a wealthy 40-year-old confident woman who has been married 3 times but has never been in love. While on vacation in Tahoe with her sister, Melody, she has a skiing accident and ends up in the hospital where she meets handsome Dr. Cavin Lattimore. They start going out, and everything seems to be going great until Tara meets Cavin’s son, Eli. The father-son relationship is very tense, and Eli makes unsettling declarations about Cavin. Meanwhile, Tara starts receiving threatening emails and notices strange cars seemingly keeping watch in front of her house.Because I am a fan of Ellen Hopkins’ young adult novels, I was disappointed that Love Lies Beneath was not written in verse like her previous novels. In fact, it’s her first fiction written in prose. There are a few poems scattered throughout the story though, giving rhythm to the book. In addition, some steamy scenes spice up the narrative. At its core though, Love Lies Beneath deals with trust issues and the perception of truth. Tara is a strong, independent woman who doesn’t shy away from taking risks. Abused as a child, she is not afraid of seeking revenge when someone wrongs her. However, she is not a very likable character, and I found that the story was slow going at times, especially at the beginning. Finally, the ending, though surprising, was not entirely satisfying. Perhaps this is due to the fact that the author is planning on writing a sequel that will be published in 2016…Love Lies Beneath was sent to me for free in exchange for an honest review.Please go to my blog, Cecile Sune - Bookobsessed, if you would like to read more reviews or discover fun facts about books and authors.
3 of 4 people found the following review helpful. Misleading description By Ellie P. Being completely honest, I didn't like this book at all. The "action" that the description describes really never happens. She is not held hostage in the house with him. Secondly, the main character is completely unbelievable. She's sassy and a man-user, then she's completely head over heels wishy-washy in love? I do not buy this at all.The poems in between the sections are weird, frankly. The sex scenes were unnecessarily crass, and I'm no prude when it comes to romance/love stories -- I just felt like it was unnecessary and took away from the story.I do not think this book should have a sequel, especially if it's like the first one at all. Perhaps it would have seemed a smidge better if the description actually matched what the book was about.I was provided a copy of this book by the publisher in exchange for an honest review.
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