What was your life like before your author started pulling your strings?
Well, I’d spent ten years on the road working in fast food joints and estranged from my family. All of my family except my great-grandmother, Alberta Marcile Ferguson aka Grandma Bertie. Since she died in a freak canoe accident at the age of 92, 24 hours to the minute before I was born, most people considered me a loner. I liked it that way. When people find out about my ability to see and hear ghosts, they usually decide I’m a few tacos short of a combination plate. “People” including my parents, which is why I ended up running away from home in the first place. It wasn’t much of a life, but I was good with it. Then Kay Charles wakes up one morning and says, “Hmmmm. I wonder what would happen if Marti’s recently deceased father paid her a visit and convinced her to go home?” Things haven't been the same since.
What’s the one trait you like most about yourself?
It’s a tie. My persistence (some people call it stubbornness) and my smart-alecky mouth. Oh—I thought of another! I always return my library books. On time!
What do you like least about yourself?
Again, a tie. My stubbornness and my smart-alecky mouth, both of which get me into way too much trouble.
What is the strangest thing your author has had you do or had happen to you?
Giving me the ability to see and communicate with ghosts and having no one believe me isn’t enough? How about sending me back to my hometown where, as a kid, that ability earned me the horrible nickname “Marti Cray-Cray”? No? Okay. Then it’s bringing Dmitri Doyle, my bad boy high school boyfriend, back into my life. He’s not a bad boy anymore, but he’s still got his dimples. Grandma Bertie keeps calling him my “young man.” He’s not. Really. No way. We’re just friends. Probably. No, really. Just friends. In fact, he’s kind of a pain in the rear. But those dimples…nope. Just friends.
Do you argue with your author? If so, what do you argue about?
I try. I keep telling her to stop putting dead bodies in my path. Dealing with the long departed is one thing, but the freshly departed are a whole ’nother matter—especially when people I love are suspected of departing them. She refuses to listen.
What is your greatest fear?
Grandma Bertie deserting me and crossing the great divide or whatever it is spirits do when they’re not still hanging around annoying the living. After looking after me for thirty-two years, she deserves her rest and all, but I don’t know what I’d do without her. I can’t believe I told you that. She’s going to read this and be totally insufferable, I just know it.
What makes you happy?
Coffee. And Oreos. And my niece and nephew. T3 and Maggie are the most brilliant, adorable kids on this planet or any other. Do not argue with me.
If you could rewrite a part of your story, what would it be? Why?
I might not have filled my little sister’s bed with plastic spiders when we were kids. Other than that, while I may or may not have found myself in more than a few regrettable circumstances during my time on the road, some things are better not discussed. (Grandma Bertie has entered the room and told me to say that.)
Of the other characters in your book, which one bugs you the most? Why?
Ugh. Dawn Pernelli, my high-school tormentor-in-chief. You know how some people improve when they become adults? And others never get out of high school? Guess which group Dawn belongs to. She pops up everywhere. I would like to go on record and say that she’s kept her cheerleader figure. However, too much time in the sun hasn’t done her any favors. Dawn, if you’re reading this: Sunscreen. It’s your friend.
Of the other characters in your book, which one would you love to trade places with? Why?
Grandma Bertie and her crew of the post-living are out. I’m not ready to go there yet. Before I came home, I might have said my little sister, the ever-perfect RachelAnne—one word please and a capital A and don’t forget the e at the end—the apple of my parents’ eye, but I’ve discovered things aren’t so peachy-keen for her either. I guess maybe I’ll just stay myself. (Which may disappoint a few people, but Grandma Bertie says she approves. So there.)
Tell us a little something about your author. Where can readers find her website/blog?
Since Kay likes to put words in my mouth, I’ll just give you her semi-official bio: Kay Charles is the much nicer, PG-rated, Mom-approved, mystery-writing alter ego of dark fiction writer Patricia Lillie (author of The Cuckoo Girls, a 2020 Bram Stoker Award® finalist.) Like her evil twin, Kay grew up in a haunted house in a small town in Northeast Ohio, earned her MFA from Seton Hill University’s Writing Popular Fiction program, teaches in Southern New Hampshire University’s MFA in Creative Writing program, and is addicted to coffee, chocolate, and cake. She also knits and sometimes purls. Both their lives would be much easier if one of them enjoyed housework. You can find her online at www.KayCharles.com.
What's next for you?
I have to spend a few more months at home convincing RachelAnne that I am a responsible (and sane) adult, worthy of access to the money our father left me. Pretending is tough, but so far, so good. Things are getting better between my sister and mother and me. Not perfect, but better, so I might just make it. After that, I’ll be free to do as I please. I’ll also be able to afford to go anywhere I please. Much to my surprise, it might please me to stay right here in Bicklesburg. I mean, all my stuff is here, and I’ve acquired a cat. And T3 and Maggie might need me to hang around. Especially Maggie. And then there’s Dmitri. It’s sort of nice to have a living friend. It could work. It would work even better if Kay Charles would quit dropping bodies around me. Since she’s sitting at her desk singing “LaLaLaLa, I can’t hear you,” I don’t think that’s going to happen.
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A Marti Mickkleson Mystery, Book 1
Marti Mickkleson sees ghosts. Only her great-grandmother believes her. Since she died the day before Marti was born, her support isn’t worth much in the world of the living.
When Marti wakes up in a compromising position with her estranged father standing over her, she thinks he owes her a big apology. After all, he’s dead and talking to her—and she talks back. Instead, he claims he was murdered and demands she go home and do something about it. She agrees—anything to get her father out of her life and into his own afterlife.
In Bicklesburg, she finds her once formidable mother in the throes of dementia, her perfect-prom-queen sister now a lawyer married to a not-so-perfect man, and her bad-boy high school boyfriend a private security guard watching over the family fortress. When her mother wanders away and is found cradling a bloodstained garden gnome, she and Grandma Bertie must uncover a murderer before Marti ends up a ghost herself.
“Readers will love returning to Bicklesburg and spending time with Marti Mickkleson and the quirky ghosts in Old Bones, New Ghosts!” Valerie Burns, author of Two Parts Sugar, One Part Murder on Old Bones and New Ghosts, Book 2 in the Marti Mickkleson Mysteries.
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This is hilarious. I bought a copy of both and can't wait to dive in!
ReplyDeleteThank you so much! I hope you enjoy them. (Marti does too.)
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