Prologue: Uncle Uzzi
From the Desk of Uncle Uzzi Stregovich, Magical Matchmaker Extraordinaire, Visionary, and Purveyor of Perfectly Paired Souls
Season’s Greetings, my wonderful friends!
Ah, the holidays.
A time for magic, miracles, and far too many sequins.
I hum to myself as I inspect the ballroom of my South Jersey estate, pleased as spiked eggnog with how the preparations are coming along.
Twinkling lights?
Check.
Towering tree decked out in enchanted ornaments that won’t stop gossiping?
Check.
A five-piece band of Were-Raccoons rehearsing carols out back?
Check, check, and bless their mischievous hearts.
Everything is coming together beautifully for my Annual Date to Mate Holiday Gala—the most anticipated matchmaking event of the season, if I do say so myself (and of course, I do).
This year’s celebration promises to be something truly special. The ballroom is humming with magic, the chandeliers are dripping with gold light, and my enchanted guest list reads like a happily ever after roll call from across the multiverse.
Ah, my heart swells just thinking about them.
There’s Hank and Annabeth Garret, my darling Wolf and Witch pair who proved that even a grumpy Alpha can be tamed by love (and a strong-willed woman with good aim).
They’re driving in from Blue Valley tonight—he swears it’s for the food, but we all know he can’t resist watching me work my matchmaking magic in person.
Then, of course, my favorite Pizza Girls romances. Horace and Carina, Doug and Dina, and Carter and MJ—some of my absolute favorite Date to Mate love stories.
That last one nearly gave me gray hairs! (More gray hairs, I should say.) The poor boy resisted fate until it tackled him in a pizzeria.
Now those two can hardly keep their paws—or hands—off each other.
And who could forget Dane and Tamare? The formerly single father Cougar Shifter found his mate in a curvy normal with loads of sass and even more curves.
Each couple, each bond, is a triumph of destiny, code, and a touch of well-aimed witchcraft.
Ah, the Fates must be so proud of me. My humble little Date to Mate app has grown beyond even my most ambitious visions. A magical network stretching across realms, species, and time zones—all in the name of love.
Seeing these unions flourish fills me with joy (and, fine, a small measure of smug satisfaction).
Tonight, as I look around this glowing hall, I can’t help but feel it again—that delicious hum of possibility, that whisper of the next story about to unfold.
Because every season brings a new spark.
Every spark leads to a new match.
As for this holiday season?
My matchmaking senses are tingling.
Somewhere out there, a certain solitary Badger just stumbled onto my app, and I suspect this grumpy fellow’s life is about to change forever.
