...savor her bubbly euphoria...

Happy Valentine's Day howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers. 

Yes, this coming Sunday is the chocolate-kisses day of love and romance. Of course, there are major romantic doin's in Wolf Peak Territory, and erotic passions of every type and stripe happening at the Interspecies Pleasure Club. Use your imagination. ~naughty grinz~ 

In this flash scene, we get a further glimpse into Xanya, Sheriff Roy's heroine. 

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...savor her bubbly euphoria... 

Xanya hissed a sigh of relief as she stripped off her waitress uniform, tossing each piece of clothing into her laundry basket. Until she stood naked. Her body tingled in that familiar way, wanting to shift to bobcat, since there was a definite chill in the area that served as her bedroom.

Oh yowls yes, she did need a good winter run and romp through field and forest—work off her feline energy, enjoy nature as her cat self. But the duties of life called. And she wanted to savor her bubbly euphoria. Sheriff Roy had asked her out.

Upon entering the two-story brick building—which had once been an old-fashioned five and dime store—Xanya had upped the thermostat. The gurgle-pops of sound let her know the heating system kicked on. When out for extended periods, she kept her place on the cool side during cold weather. No use wasting heat as her mother would say.

With only her sizzly glow over Roy warming her, Xanya walked over the thick wool rug toward her large shower stall. Quickly, hot water steamed up the inside, and she stepped inside.

How dreamy could a bobcat girl get over a man, a man that was a ram? Well, rawrrs of happiness, she'd found out. Dreamily, a smile curving her lips, Xanya slowly spun beneath the shower. She imagined what would happen between her and Roy at the Saturday Night barn dance.

She knew it was downright foolish, given her dating life, to let herself giddily indulge in a romance that hadn't yet happened. But she couldn't help it.

What to wear? Different scenarios montaged through her head.

Should she go cowgirl chic, wear ass-hugging jeans? Should she dress as some of the gals, in various square-dance costumes, the ones with the full-flying skirts? Or, should she dress like a southwestern senorita? Xanya adored the colorfully trimmed blouses and skirts—the silver and turquoise jewelry some of the women wore.

During the evening, country and western music, current to the earliest songs, were played, unless the crowd favored one type over the other. Square dancing took a turn in the middle of the dance. And later, so did Mexican Mariachi music.

Xanya loved it all. She'd enthusiastically wiggled, whirled, and danced to any and all kinds of music since earliest childhood. No matter if she possessed a talent for that form of dance, or not. Okay yeah yowls, she'd learned soon enough that comic relief was a good thing, at times, when growing up. Often she'd exaggerated her bad-dance movements for laughs.

Although, she'd discovered where she excelled, given her parents spent a small fortune for dance lessons. That, and for art lessons.

Or... maybe she should wear one of her slinky exotic dresses—she had a whole collection. Her feline nature demanded it. Mmm...mmm, did she absolutely love sensually swaying her body...feeling the silky fabric slip and slide over her skin.

Oh yeah rawrrr, slink and cat went together like the fish and chips at the Ye Olde English Pub, one of her favorite places inside the Pleasure Club.

Xanya finished rubbing in the gentle shampoo, then rinsed her hair. Afterward, she let the fast-beating water pummel her face.

What would Roy prefer she wear? As she figured it, he'd want something pretty and feminine, with a skirt...if she was judging him right. Although, he didn't seem like the type of man who would find a girly-fussy outfit all that appealing.

But who knew for certain? Xanya rumbled one of her bobcat sounds, and shut off the shower. Unbidden, certainly not unexpected, images of Roy—in all of his tough-as-rawhide yet stern-jawed glory—crowded her mind.

Xanya reacted, sexily shaking her hair. The wet heavy strands merely slapped her face, and she bent over wringing out the excess water.

Oh, she'd made inquiries about Roy, and gotten nowhere, as far as his taste in women, and what they wore.

Obviously though, with their attraction for each other *off the sex charts*, that info wasn't needed now. Still, some part of her thrilled at the idea of dressing to please him—and dressing to turn him inside out with red-hot passion. For her. Only for her.

Xanya toweled herself off, appreciating the extra fluffy texture of her giant-sized towel. A creature of comfort and luxury, at least when it came to a few things in her life, like the fabrics around her, and her spare furnishes—Xanya always sought out the best she could find, and afford. The rest of her earnings went into art supplies, and saving her own gallery.

Speaking of, Pasha's portrait called. White Fang, the super wolf reporter, and owner of the town newspaper, had hired her to paint a portrait of his *Egyptian cat goddess* lover. The woman side of Pasha, that is.

The sultry-eyed beauty had been cooperative in posing, then in providing a photo to work from. But progress had been slow, even if an *in the zone* magic seized Xanya whenever she put brush to canvas.

Grabbing hold of her thick, velvety, ivory-colored robe, Xanya shimmied into it, then slipped her feet into the matching slippers. With a giddy spring to her step, she moved into her simple kitchen, and put the pot on to boil. A cup of catnip tea would soothe and revive her.

Since she'd already eaten at the diner, and had brought home supper for later, she'd enjoy her hot tea, and mentally prepare to paint. Moving into her living room, Xanya sat on her small sofa. She tucked her legs beneath her, then picked up her freshly brewed catnip tea.

Holding the cup between her palms, she took tiny sips, relishing the steamy fragrance. The pile of unopened mail she'd thrown on the small, block-shaped coffee table, caught her eye.

High-as-a-cloud over her date with Roy, she hadn't bothered looking at any of it. Besides, she'd wanted a relaxing shower first.

Now, the invitation to her friend's Valentine's Day party grabbed her attention. Did she dare think/plan about Roy...the two of them being together, and attending?

Even if...somehow she didn't see Sheriff Roy disco-dancing the night away. Okay and growl-yowls, the party was on Saturday night...and V-Day was on Sunday this year...and no way! was she missing her dearest friend, Lillethia's disco hearts extravaganza...and...

Xanya sighed. She sipped the last of her tea. Realistically, she'd have to cross that Valentine's Day bridge if and when...oh, she so hoped... her heart thumped in agreement.

About to rise from the sofa, Xanya fell backward. Almost dropping the china cup, she managed to grip it tight as a slender thread of pain cut through her head.

She knew this pain-episode all too well. The psychic vision unfolded before her mind's eye.

A sinister black car...two men in black suits...they stalked Roy...the scene changed... attired in full sheriff garb, Roy stood in front of a group of unfamiliar buildings... buildings that would have belonged in a small-population city... a bullet whizzed toward his head... silvery dark, and streaking, she didn't see the bullet strike... she did see the shooter behind him.

"No!" The horrified whisper fell from Xanya's lips. "Roy, no!"

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Wishing you love and passion on the wild side ~ 

Savanna 

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance