Sheer Bliss by Leigh Ellwood

Chapter One
     
     
     
    “ Alright, bitch, time for
you to get your bony bow-wow ass out of that chair. Right
now!”
    Calla Savitch bowed her
head and sighed. She had just poked into the back storage closet to
search for a fresh set of tease combs when that familiar, livid
voice rattled the very foundation of her salon. Sheila Houlihan
could have startled the most horrifying banshee back to the old
country with that heavily accented demand—or anybody else, it
appeared, save for the one person Sheila wanted to
intimidate.
    “ Oh, go wait in the litter
box!” snapped Lorraine Winston, the bony bow-wow in question,
ostensibly still seated in Calla’s styling chair. “While you’re
there you can give yourself a bath, you filthy mongrel.”
    “ How’d you like to be
bathed in your own blood, you mangy c—?”
    Calla blocked out the
profanity and stared into the dim, cramped space before her. She
braced herself for the next inevitable counterattack, all the while
cursing herself for unconsciously arranging this minor battle in
the never-ending war. She should have known better to schedule
appointments for two women from the rivaling Houlihan and Winston
families on the same day, but with the economy in recession Shear
Bliss, Calla’s beauty salon, had taken a hit over the summer. To
say she needed the income was an understatement—she was apparently
willing to risk a violent, superhuman catfight destroying her place
of business in order to keep the bills paid.
    Scratch that , she
thought to herself as she hurried to the front of the salon, a
dog and cat fight . Just her luck that the two feuding
families were comprised of were-beings.
    “ Ladies,” Calla warned as
she approached, praying to all things divine that neither of them
had yet bared fangs or claws to strike. “At the risk of losing more
regular customers, I am using that term loosely. I won’t have any
of this crap going on in my salon. Take it outside if you must
fight.”
    Lorraine, however,
remained in Calla’s chair, even though the position clearly gave
her little advantage in a tussle. Calla figured the she-wolf stayed
there to spite her werecat opponent. In a defiant move, Lorraine
crossed her legs and folded her arms over the long green bib used
to keep hair clipping off clothing.
    “ Calla can confirm that I
reserved her services for precisely ten o’clock today,” she said,
her voice stiff and cool. “As you can see, we are not
finished.”
    “ Well, my appointment is
at eleven,” Sheila huffed, “and I’ve yet to wait to get my hair
done. I won’t start now.”
    “ Sheila, it’s only twenty
after, you’re quite early.” Calla guided the raven-haired
were-panther to a chair in the waiting area. She no longer felt the
need to placate the woman. The way these two and others in their
family carried on their conflicts in public, Calla had to wonder if
their legendary squabbles had a hand in the sharp decline of her
customer base…to say nothing of surrounding businesses. Across the
street, Calla could count more “Space For Rent” notices than “Open”
signs. Times were tough, yes, but Calla also noticed the wide berth
given by townspeople whenever they spotted a Houlihan and a Winston
walking up the same street.
    Calla then shook her head.
No. It’s not fair to blame them , she scolded herself. People are truly broke these days . No sense in blaming a
shifter unless he raised the interest rates.
    “ I don’t have much more to
do with Lorraine, and once we’re done I’ll get you in the chair,
since my appointments are pretty much open today,” she
added.
    Sheila grudgingly took the
nearest padded seat and snatched at an entertainment magazine.
“Make sure you spray it first,” she growled.
    Relieved Lorraine didn’t
hear the remark, or pretended not to, Calla settled Sheila and
resumed fixing Lorraine’s hair. The lady wolf palmed her smart
phone while the stylist worked, swiping at the screen with her
thumbs and