Cian Rutherford

Science Fiction

Glitch Hearts

Cian Rutherford

The rain started before the ferry lights came on. By half six the windows of Doyle’s Spar were silvered with Atlantic mist, the whole street outside blurred into wet halos and brake lights and people running with hoods over their heads like the weather had personally offended them. Clonmara always looked half haunted in weather like this. Not dangerous. Just old.

Time Travel SF

Last Train From Tomorrow

Cian Rutherford

ZERO HOUR · Book 1

At 11:48 p. m. , Niamh Keating had six hundred and twelve stranded passengers, one failed signal relay, a stag party attempting harmony in three different keys, and a missing emotional-support ferret. The ferret was, so far, the only problem anybody had described as a catastrophe. “Her name is Brenda,” said the woman on Platform Four, for the third time. “She answers to Brenda.”