I was thinking the other night about the difficulties a wereshifter would have in finding a human female willing to accept him as he is in all his furry glory. Most sensible women would scream at the fang and claws and that whole fated-mate business. But romance writers are a different matter. We're used to shifters. We've learned how to boss around alpha males (damn, heroes, they're so much trouble to write). We are Woman, hear us roar! We're more than a match for a shifter.
So I have this vision of wereshifters infiltrating Romance Writer and Reader conferences, sniffing around as waiters and models and even masquerading as literary agents, looking for their fated mates.
Unfortunately, we're all too busy laughing, talking and drinking to notice.