Publisher's Synopsis
'Some called us Oracles, but, in fact, each group of us chose a name for ourselves, a calling. Our Glasgow group had named themselves the Saints. One thing was certain and true regardless of where we lived or the moniker we chose to go by, however. We all had a single trait in common no matter the age, gender or status. Visions. We all had them. Premonitions, divination, whatever you wanted to call them. They came to us all with the single-minded determination of a speeding lorry. Unexpectedly, like a sneak thief in the night. Personally, I didn't like to think that we had visions of future deaths. That sounded so morbid, grotesque. It sounded like we should be standing around in black cloaks with scythes or something. I preferred to think of them as glimpses of possibilities. It was what could happen if we didn't intervene, what could occur if we didn't make it in time.'
