The dead don't lie. But someone at Holloway Heights is making sure they never get the chance to speak.

In the bowels of Holloway Heights Medical Center, the morgue is supposed to be the end of the story. But for Dr. John Smith—a sarcastic, sharp-edged pathologist with more autopsies than friends—it's where the real mystery begins.

It starts with a body that shouldn't be there.
A toe tag with the wrong name.
A missing fentanyl patch.
And a whisper from a corpse that should be stone-cold dead: "Patch."

When a nurse disappears under mysterious circumstances and the hospital's records start vanishing faster than its patients, John finds himself pulled into a conspiracy buried beneath decades of bureaucracy, silence, and death certificates that don't tell the whole story.

Teaming up with MJ, a jittery med intern one panic attack away from quitting, and Becky Collins, a caffeine-fueled nurse with zero patience for politics, John starts digging into a hidden medical black market operating from within the hospital itself—fueled by greed, covered by silence, and counting its victims by the hundreds.

In a world where malpractice is intentional and overdoses are orchestrated, the question isn't just who's dying—but who's letting them die.

Darkly hilarious, pulse-pounding, and disturbingly plausible, Dead Funny delivers a scalpel-sharp blend of medical thriller and conspiracy noir. Fans of Robin Cook, Michael Crichton, or TV shows like House, The Resident, and Body of Proof will devour this fast-paced mystery that slices through the red tape and exposes the bleeding truth underneath.

So scrub in. Hold your breath.
And remember—
At Holloway Heights, the morgue doesn't end the story.
It starts it.