Didn't your mother ever tell you not to tell lies? Nathan Crosby has a problem. His gambling addiction is bad enough, but when he tries to run out on newcomer, Leroy, in a back room poker game his troubles really begin. As he hurries into the back alley behind Ruby's Bar he is certain that his lies have saved him from paying a debt he cannot afford. But Leroy is not all he appears to be. Nor does he have any intention of letting Nathan off the hook. Instead, he has a unique way of extracting what he is owed. And the payment will be larger than the debt. Excerpt: "What are we going to do with you?" Leroy asked. "Let me go," replied Nathan hopefully. "It was a rhetorical question," snapped Leroy. "I already know what I'm going to do with you." Nathan licked his lips and swallowed. "Who are you? What are you going to do with me?" The creature that had once been Leroy snickered. "I'm someone you should never have crossed. As to what I'm going to do to youâ?¦" He stepped behind Nathan and clamped the palm of his hand to the top of Nathan's head. At the point where flesh met flesh, Leroy's nails extended into talons that hooked into Nathan's scalp, locking the two men together. "Since you're so fond of telling stories, so fond of those fantasies that little brain of yours is constantly manufacturing for gain and pleasure, I suggest we get them all out in the open." From the darkness there was a scuffing sound, like dozens of tiny feet hurrying towards him. Nathan's blood froze. His eyes darted backwards and forwards across the shadows for the first sign of movement. His wait was not a long one. The tiny feet carried tiny grey bodies with distended bellies and when they drew nearer he could see a multitude of oversized eyes staring up at him from gaunt, grey faces and dozens of thin black lips displaying cruel smirks. They couldn't have been more than fifteen centimetres tall, and each of their bony, clawed hands gripped a knife with an exotic blade and a keen edge. Nathan began to struggle against the hand that held him tight, but there were other forces at work. "What are you doing to me?" he cried. There was no reply. The creatures leapt onto him, using their tools to slash through his clothing until it fell away from him in shredded ribbons. Even his shoes, of leather and rubber, were made short work of as was his dark brown hair. Locks of it swept down over his face and back, tickling before skating off his body and landing in feathery piles on the floor.