What’s it about?
Between adjusting to life as a newlywed and trying to survive the first month of medical school, Sara Alderson has a lot on her plate. She definitely doesn’t need to start visiting other people’s dreams again. Unfortunately for her, it’s happening anyway.
Every night, she sees a different person and a different dream. But every dreamer has one thing in common: they all hate Dr. Morris, the least popular professor in the medical school, and they’re all dreaming about seeing him – or making him – dead.
Once again, Sara finds herself in the role of unwilling witness to a murder before it happens. But this time, there are too many suspects to count, and it doesn’t help matters that she hates Dr. Morris every bit as much as any of his would-be murderers do.
Dream Doctor is the second book of the Dream Series.
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Out of nowhere, there’s a loud whine of feedback; Janet and I both cringe at the sound, and we’re far from alone. Then it’s gone, and the whole room, all 170 of us, turn towards the lectern. A short, balding Indian man stands there, tapping the microphone. “Welcome to Clinical Human Anatomy,” he announces. “I am Dr. Bhapati.” I will be assisted by Drs. Hanyes,” he gestures to one corner, where a tall, very severe-looking brown-haired woman stands, arms crossed, “Morgan,” and he points to a dark-skinned man in another corner who’s almost, but not quite, smiling, “and Willis,” he nods behind him towards a bored-looking man who’s easily the youngest of our teachers.
“You may open your dissector to page five and begin by reviewing the structures of the back as indicated. When you have completed your review, you will find the instructions for beginning the actual dissection on page 8.”
This doesn’t seem right to me. We just start reading on our own, and whenever we feel ready we start cutting? I expected a lot more guidance. Janet and Paula clearly feel the same way, but Joseph shrugs. “Throwing us right into the deep end, aren’t they?” He takes the sheet and pulls it off, uncovering our cadaver; I force myself not to turn away. This is why I’m here, isn’t it?
Forty minutes later, all of us have identified everything we’re supposed to identify; we’ve looked at a skeleton and survived a brief quiz from Dr. Haynes on the vertebral column, and now we’re ready to begin cutting. None of us seem eager to take the lead, and we’re not alone. From the sound of it only a couple of groups have actually begun dissecting, and I can hear nervous – and occasionally angry – whispering around us.
This is ridiculous. No more waiting – this is why I’m here. I do give it a few more seconds, just in case anybody else wants to jump in. When they don’t I pick up my scalpel. “Can someone read for me?” I ask as I lean over the cadaver, feeling for the correct spot to begin.
“I will,” Paula answers. “Make an incision starting at the external occipital protuberance,” she says; I’m already there, right at the top of the neck. I take a deep breath, and I start cutting.