Hey HBs, Melody here. I'm popping into your feed with a special treat. In case you missed it,

book three of Kate Pryor's clause and cubicle series is out now. Her previous book,

The Ork from the Office, made a big splash in the cult, and now she's released The Gargoyle

from General Management. Here's where we get to the good part. Just to give you a taste,

I'm going to narrate an excerpt for you that's set at a corporate mixer.

How come I haven't seen you at these before? I ask, and realize I've reached the end of my third

drink. I stir the ice around noisily until the cherry at the bottom is pushed to the top of the pile,

and I can pluck it out and pop it in my mouth. When did I order something with a cherry in it?

I smile and feel the alcohol hitting my brain as my lips close around the cherry stem

and my teeth separate it from the fruit. I would have noticed you. Oh, fuck, that comes off as too

flirty, especially with the way I can't stop eyeing him. I clear my throat and try to regain some

air of seriousness. I mean, I've never met a gargoyle outside of the peak district before.

But, mouth, someone please help me. This is why I shouldn't drink with my co-workers.

He nods understandably. He probably knows his presence is a little unusual.

The peaks can be pretty cutthroat. I only worked there a century or so before I had to get out.

I believe him. Hostel takeover is an understatement for some of the acquisitions I've seen.

I nod empathetically. It's also just generally inaccessible, especially for non-flyers.

Exactly. If you don't fit into the very rigid work culture, you are ground into dust.

It wasn't the way I wanted to live, he says, and it's a refreshing opinion to hear.

I thought I'd never hear the end of how I wasn't climbing the corporate descent into hell

from all my ex-co-workers. I nearly tell him that, except my attention snags on the way he

undoes the buttons on his cuffs. And, of course, Mr. Immaculate wears little gold and amber

...