Can a werewolf who makes people disappear save his world -- and get the boy of his dreams?
HIDDEN POWERS
(Superordinary Society Series, Bk 1)
By Tara Lain
Blurb
Jazz Vanessen is weird—and not just because he’s a werewolf. For most of his life, he’s felt different from his alpha male brothers and friends. Since he’s adopted, he can’t even blame it on family.Now eighteen, Jazz meets his idol, the social activist Lysandra Mason, and her breathtaking nephew, Dash Mercury. When Dash is around, even stranger things start to happen, including Jazz falling hopelessly in lust. Not only is Jazz having visions, making people disappear, and somehow turning invisible, but somebody’s following him and threatening to reveal his pack’s secrets to the world.
Together with Dash and Jazz’s equally amazing friends—Carla, BeBop, Khadija, and Fatima—they discover the danger is even more lethal than they thought, and Jazz’s weirdness may save all their lives.
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Excerpt
The movie started, and as he’d guessed, it was crappy. But Carla was into it. She bounced in her seat and munched handfuls of popcorn. Neither Jazz nor Dash had gotten any, although Jazz had opted for the vanilla cola he and Carla both loved. Jazz kind of wished he’d gotten popcorn, since maybe it would have helped distract him from the warmth of Dash’s long, firm thigh just inches from Jazz’s leg. The heat kept spreading like a lava flow up to parts that didn’t need any more warming, and Jazz kept shifting from buttcheek to buttcheek.
Carla leaned over. “I got way too much popcorn. You guys want some?”
Dash stared skeptically at the huge bag Carla passed, but Jazz reached over, grabbed it, and clasped it like a life preserver, then held it out to Dash.
As two werewolves roared and attacked each other on the screen, Dash glanced at the offer, then slid a hand into the half-empty bag, dug around, and guided a handful of white kernels toward his mouth. Jazz dragged his eyes away from those lips that he could easily imagine devouring something other than popcorn. He dug his own hand into the bag, grabbed a handful, and shoved it into his mouth, spilling several puffs down his front.
Dash murmured, “Um, good.”
Jazz agreed. He dove for more as Dash did the same, and their hands met somewhere in the middle of the bag, bumping. They both froze.
Jazz held his breath. What to do? Just as he almost made a decision to pull his hand out, he—did he?—felt Dash’s finger move. The soft, warm digit might have caressed the palm of Jazz’s hand. Maybe. Now he really didn’t know what to do.
Two of Dash’s fingers dragged over Jazz’s palm, an area of his body that must have nerves stretching directly to his penis because the pressure produced an equal and opposite reaction. For a second, they sat there, frozen, Jazz’s whole brain dwelling somewhere between his thighs. Then Dash intertwined their fingers and Jazz thought he’d have an orgasm right there, every nerve-ending throbbing.
“Hey you guys, don’t bogart the popcorn.” Carla reached across Dash’s body toward the bag. Fortunately, her eyes remained fixed on the screen where two werewolves were stalking each other through the forest.
Dash managed to let go of Jazz’s fingers, and Jazz pulled his hand out in time to allow Carla to drag the bag away from his erection, which was so huge it could probably shove ten people out of the theater.
About the Author
You can find Tara Lain at
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