The Cadaver of Gideon Cathcart

Introducing a new & modern tale of gothic horror,
a novel of chilling intensity


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In 1996, in the fifth year of his training as a brain surgeon, Zach Dozier killed a man.

His name was Gideon Cathcart and he was Zach’s patient. In truth, the man had died already—or so it seemed. An hour before, with his skull open and his brain exposed to the elements, Gideon had bled out on the operating table. Half his brain had turned to mush amid the hemorrhaging. Gideon had even been tagged and bagged, near enough to death so as to qualify for it in all but fact. But in the end he hadn’t been dead after all, though how he could have done any sort of living with just half a brain wasn’t apparent. Likely he’d have never awakened. He’d have remained in a coma—a dead man breathing—with a tube in his stomach to feed and water him daily. Gideon’s life would have been nothing more than orderlies and nurses coming around a few times a day to change his diaper or turn him this way or that. Hell, a goddamn potted plant lives better. But Gideon wasn’t only his patient, he was his friend, and Zach knew he wouldn’t have wanted that.

So—hardest moment of his life—Zach finished what had been so horribly started in that operating room. He killed Gideon in a twin fit of madness and compassion. And when that terrible moment ended, Zach laid him to rest in potter’s field, under the daisies and wispy grass of a fallow earth.

Not a soul knew what Zach had done, but in all the days that followed he never knew a moment’s peace. Not because everything about that unfortunate night haunted him, although it did. Not because he saw that terrible face every time he closed his eyes, although that was true as well. Not because all he had ever loved or wanted in this world had been taken from him, although it had. No, the source of his unease was none of these things.

Zach Dozier was a man with an affliction. He killed Gideon Cathcart, then laid him to rest amid the poppies of potter’s field.

But Gideon didn’t rest—and he wouldn’t stay buried.

From the mind of Edison McDaniels comes THE CADAVER OF GIDEON CATHCART, with elements of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, Stephen King’s Bag of Bones, and the 1930’s classic horror novel The Cadaver of Gideon Wyck by Alexander Laing (in fact, the title is an homage to Alexander Laing). The novel is ghostly atmospheric, with the haunted hospital becoming a character in itself. A ghost story written in third person, with compelling prose and vivid depictions of hospital routines twisted into the surreal. A chilling descent into the inner world of modern medicine and surgery, against a pretense of old-fashioned gothic horror.
Consider yourself warned.

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