The #1 New York Times bestselling author of Collateral “is at her best in this outstanding novel written in gorgeous prose…a sex-filled masterpiece of mystery and romance” ( Library Journal ) about a woman caught in a love affair that could be her salvation—or her undoing. Once a widow, twice divorced, Tara is a woman with a past she prefers to keep hidden. She’s gorgeous, affluent, and content living alone in her flawless San Francisco mansion. That is, until she meets Cavin Lattimore—the charming surgeon who sweeps her off her feet following a ski accident in Lake Tahoe. But as her recovery progresses and her love life flourishes, Tara notices some suspicious incidents—an unusual van parked outside her home, a break-in, threatening text messages, and distressing emails. She can’t help but notice the cracks in Cavin’s “perfect” persona, including the suppressed rage his conniving teenage son elicits. Housebound and on crutches, Tara depends on Cavin—perhaps to a dangerous degree—as she juggles difficult relationships with her envious sister and best friend, her irritable brother-in-law, and her estranged mother. However perfect Tara’s life may have appeared before, new events are starting to expose what lies beneath. Writing for the first time in prose, Ellen Hopkins unveils a brand new form that’s fresh, smoldering and emblematic of her celebrated poetic voice. Injected with a signature dose of suspense, sex, and drama, Love Lies Beneath delivers right up to its shocking and unexpected conclusion. 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 Ellen Hopkins is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of numerous young adult novels, as well as the adult novels such as 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. Follow her on Twitter at @EllenHopkinsLit. 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. “Wi