How I Fell in Love with Rock and Roll by Harmony Holmes

Orwell said we’d be living in a dystopia by ’84, but the only dystopia I know of is my dating life.

My day-to-day is satisfying. I work in the library, I help people find what they need, and it pays enough for me to afford rent with a roomie here in the city. A packmate, of course, because nobody in the Nightfire pack thinks it’s smart to leave the alpha’s only daughter unprotected.
Not that I need protection, so much as it’s a good idea to have eyes everywhere given that my fated mate hasn’t shown up and I’m pushing 33. They keep reminding me that time is of the essence and I don’t have the heart to tell them that it really… really isn’t.
I’ve never met a man I was interested in. My secret girlfriend disappeared when she went off to college and all we’d ever gotten to do was hold hands. I’ve long since given up. There’s no hope for a lesbian werewolf and it’s likely that my little brother will take charge of the pack once he comes of age and finds his mate. That’d be fine except for the whole part where he wants to banish me from the territory as soon as he assumes that power.

Twerp.
It’s funny how fate takes control of our life when we least expect it. Just before his birthday, I’m flying out to a librarian’s convention when a girl with a big mouth and bigger hair brushes into me in the bathroom and it’s like being hit by lightning. Her heavy perfume, a mix of hairspray and illicit substances, is enough to knock me off my feet. Yet when I try to get her attention, all she sees is a mousy girl with Coke bottle glasses and a tweed skirt that looks like it’s straight out of my mother’s closet.

The way she smiles, the way she moves, the passion in her voice when she sings.
Oh, my stars.
She must be mine.