Welcome to Mercy House, a state-of-the-art retirement home that appears perfectly crisp, clean, and orderly . . . but nothing could be farther from the truth. In Adam Cesare’s thrilling novel, the residents will find little mercy—only a shocking eruption of unfathomable horror.
 
Harriet Laurel notices the odor at Mercy House as soon as she sets foot inside, brought there against her will by her son, Don, and his wife, Nikki. In the early stages of dementia, Harriet has grown resentful of Nikki, blaming her daughter-in-law for failing to supply grandchildren. Yet even Harriet must admit that her mind becomes clearer as soon as she crosses the threshold. If it wasn’t for that annoying smell.
 
Arnold Piper is an eighty-five-year-old ex-Marine, a proud man who has cared for himself his whole life. But no longer. Betrayed by his aging body, Arnold is learning that the trials he survived long ago in war-torn Korea pale beside the daily indignities of growing old. Little does he know that his greatest nightmares are still ahead of him.
 
Sarah Campbell is an idealistic nurse whose compassion has been stretched to the breaking point at the chronically understaffed facility that is Mercy House. But now Sarah’s list of unpleasant duties is about to take a terrifying turn. For something wicked is brewing in Mercy House. Something dark and rotten . . . and deadly.

Praise for Mercy House
 
“Mercy House is the kind of novel you sprint through, eating up the pages as fast as you can turn them, and yet it lingers in the mind like a haunting memory, or the ghost of a smell. Cesare is poised to take the reins of the new generation. Looking for the new face of horror? This is it right here.”—Joe McKinney, Bram Stoker Award–winning author of The Dead Won’t Die and Dead City

“Mercy House is 100% distilled nightmare juice. Adam Cesare notches up the horror to nigh-unbearable levels. Even my skin was screaming by the end of this book.”—Nick Cutter, author of The Troop

“Adam Cesare makes his presence felt with Mercy House. A no-holds-barred combo of survival horror and the occult.”—Laird Barron, author of The Beautiful Thing That Awaits Us All

“This is extreme horror at its best, so don’t step into this book with an uneasy stomach. You must wait sixty minutes after eating before opening up Mercy House.”—LitReactor
 
“Mercy House is the kind of no-holds-barred thrill ride that horror junkies like us love to find.”—The October Country
 
“What would happen if you took Bubba Ho-Tep with its old folks home backdrop, then replaced the oddball comedy with the most hair-raising, blood-curdling moments of The Evil Dead? Well, you might wind up with Mercy House. . . . If visceral, unvarnished horror is your preferred reading experience, you’ve got a good one here.”—Wag the Fox
 
“[Cesare] has implemented a style that is highly cinematic, merciless in its execution and leaves you hanging on for dear life wondering what he''ll do next.”—Horror Talk
 
“Mercy House is a title those into gory horror tales will savor from beginning to end.”—The Horror Fiction Review

Welcome to Mercy House, a state-of-the-art retirement home that appears perfectly crisp, clean, and orderly . . . but nothing could be farther from the truth. In Adam Cesare’s thrilling novel, the residents will find little mercy—only a shocking eruption of unfathomable horror.
 
Harriet Laurel notices the odor at Mercy House as soon as she sets foot inside, brought there against her will by her son, Don, and his wife, Nikki. In the early stages of dementia, Harriet has grown resentful of Nikki, blaming her daughter-in-law for failing to supply grandchildren. Yet even Harriet must admit that her mind becomes clearer as soon as she crosses the threshold. If it wasn’t for that annoying smell.
 
Arnold Piper is an eighty-five-year-old ex-Marine, a proud man who has cared for himself his whole life. But no longer. Betrayed by his aging body, Arnold is learning that the trials he survived long ago in war-torn Korea pale beside the daily indignities of growing old. Little does he know that his greatest nightmares are still ahead of him.
 
Sarah Campbell is an idealistic nurse whose compassion has been stretched to the breaking point at the chronically understaffed facility that is Mercy House. But now Sarah’s list of unpleasant duties is about to take a terrifying turn. For something wicked is brewing in Mercy House. Something dark and rotten . . . and deadly.

Praise for Mercy House
 
“Mercy House is the kind of novel you sprint through, eating up the pages as fast as you can turn them, and yet it lingers in the mind like a haunting memory, or the ghost of a smell. Cesare is poised to take the reins of the new generation. Looking for the new face of horror? This is it right here.”—Joe McKinney, Bram Stoker Award–winning author of The Dead Won’t Die and Dead City

“Mercy House is 100% distilled nightmare juice. Adam Cesare notches up the horror to nigh-unbearable levels. Even my skin was screaming by the end of this book.”—Nick Cutter, author of The Troop

“Adam Cesare makes his presence felt with Mercy House. A no-holds-barred combo of survival horror and the occult.”—Laird Barron, author of The Beautiful Thing That Awaits Us All

“This is extreme horror at its best, so don’t step into this book with an uneasy stomach. You must wait sixty minutes after eating before opening up Mercy House.”—LitReactor
 
“Mercy House is the kind of no-holds-barred thrill ride that horror junkies like us love to find.”—The October Country
 
“What would happen if you took Bubba Ho-Tep with its old folks home backdrop, then replaced the oddball comedy with the most hair-raising, blood-curdling moments of The Evil Dead? Well, you might wind up with Mercy House. . . . If visceral, unvarnished horror is your preferred reading experience, you’ve got a good one here.”—Wag the Fox
 
“[Cesare] has implemented a style that is highly cinematic, merciless in its execution and leaves you hanging on for dear life wondering what he''ll do next.”—Horror Talk
 
“Mercy House is a title those into gory horror tales will savor from beginning to end.”—The Horror Fiction Review