AN INTERVIEW WITH MARTI MICKKELSON FROM AUTHOR KAY CHARLES' MARTI MICKKELSON MYSTERIES

Today we sit down for a chat with Marti Mickkleson of The Marti Mickkleson Mysteries by author Kay Charles 

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.

 

Ghosts in Glass Houses

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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HOW EXPLORING HER ANCESTRAL HISTORY LED MYSTERY AUTHOR ELAINE L. ORR TO HER NEWEST SERIES

Centuries Old Home of Orr Family in Ireland

Elaine L. Orr began exploring her family’s history in the mid-1990s, when she tried to prove a long-held family belief that Daniel Boone was a direct ancestor. Oops. Not so, and siblings and cousins were not happy with her. But the hobby that grew from that mistake has brought joy, new friends, and – finally – fiction. The Family History Mystery series, set in the Mountains of Western Maryland Learn more about Elaine and her books at her website and blog.  

Following Clues to Family History

One of the jokes shared among family historians is that some of us know our dead ancestors better than living relatives. I’ve spent time sorting through Civil War records in the National Archives, ship rosters, and barely decipherable census records.

 

My Orr family also has an active reunion group that annually celebrates the arrival of the family in Missouri in 1837. As historian, I’ve explored traditions with dozens of relatives, many of whom shared stories through the decades. Irish traditions – Protestant and Catholic – are in my bones.

 

As I searched for a fresh mystery series, I realized I’d never set a novel in my native Maryland or woven my favorite hobby into my writing. The Family History Mystery Series quickly took shape. I stayed away from my stomping grounds near Washington, DC and opted for the beauty of the Appalachian Mountains. 

 

It can be a challenge to link mysteries from the past with modern crimes. Then the Pandemic prevented me from visiting the towns and libraries that had been part of planning for the series. Fortunately, I could buy history books and people, were happy to talk on the phone. My imagination wasn’t thwarted by the isolation. In fact, had it not been for the Pandemic, there might only be two books now instead of four. 

 

My thirty-something antagonist is Digger, whose nickname came from helping her great uncle keep up family cemetery plots. The first book entailed solving his murder, and I came to a sinking feeling as the end approached. I didn’t want to let go of Uncle Benjamin. His dry humor and extensive familiarity with the region would be buried with him.

 

Thus, a surprise ending to Least Trodden Ground. Just after the last shovel of dirt covered his grave in the family plot, Uncle Benjamin’s ghost popped up on the kitchen table. Only Digger can see and talk to him, which creates awkwardness and fun plots. He has knowledge of the town and a dry humor that has led him to be a fan favorite.

 

Without him, Digger would spend more time looking through dusty plat maps or listening to lectures at the historical society. Uncle Benjamin’s renditions are more to the point and certainly more appealing to readers.

 

I didn’t expect to learn as much about Maryland’s Civil War History, including the Underground Railroad, or feel so at home on Meadow Mountain, home of the fictional Maple Grove. 

 

As I prepare for a weeklong visit to Garrett County, Maryland and talks at local libraries, I look forward to blending more Maryland history with future mysteries. I’ll return to the Midwest with enough ideas to write for years.

 

Least Trodden Ground

A Family History Mystery, Book 1

 

Digger Browning looked forward to spending time with Uncle Benjamin after damaged pipes put her kitchen ceiling on the floor. She didn't expect to find his body at his Western Maryland home, the Ancestral Sanctuary. Who would kill the parsimonious octogenarian? Sure, some people were mad about him pushing the historical society to find a new abode, but they got over it, right? And then she finds out he had a new 'foxy lady,' and she's not his usual type. Antsy before the funeral, Digger delves into family history, but makes an unexpected find. Between trying to figure out who keeps breaking into the Ancestral Sanctuary, avoiding an ex-boyfriend, putting up with cranky relatives, figuring out who busted her pipes, and losing her job, it's a rough week. If she doesn't watch out, Digger could end up next to Uncle Benjamin in the family plot. Spooky times in the Western Maryland mountains.

 

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MYSTERY AUTHOR JANE TESH ON STARTING OVER AND MOVING FROM SERIES TO A STANDALONE NOVEL

Jane Tesh is the author of two mystery series. The Madeline Maclin Mysteries feature former beauty queen Madeline “Mac” Maclin and her reformed con man husband Jerry Fairweather. The Grace Street Mystery Series features struggling PI David Randall, his psychic friend Camden, and an array of tenants who move in and out of Cam’s boarding house at 302 Grace Street. Ghost Light is her first standalone mystery. Learn more about Jane and her books at her website.

Starting Over – Again!

I had been with Poisoned Pen Press since 2004. When the company was bought by Sourcebooks, Sourcebooks did not want to continue either of my two series even though I had many more books to go. As you can imagine, this was a blow, but I was still a Poisoned Pen author, and they would accept a standalone. So I had to start over.

 

This was more of a challenge than I thought. I had been writing the Madeline Maclin Mysteries and the Grace Street Mystery Series since 1995 and loved all those characters. To start over with a new cast was daunting. What would I write about? Where could I set this story? What was something I knew about that I could have fun with?

 

The answer to that was community theater. I’d been in community theater productions for over forty years, so I had a lot of experience to drawn upon. Talk about drama. It is definitely in the theater, especially amateur theater with long-standing feuds and clashing egos. Not only that, there are a boatload of theater superstitions to play with. Now I just needed some characters.

 

When I’m writing, as soon as I have the right name, I have a character. This happens all the time, and I can’t explain it. I name them, and there they are. So I came up with the name Theodosia “Teddy” Ballard. Teddy stepped right up and began to tell me her story. Her neighbor’s cat accidentally burned down her apartment building. She missed her latest job interview, a job she really didn’t want. Her dear grandmother who raised her was going into a retirement facility, and her scheming cousin had taken grandmother’s house. She didn’t have a job or a place to live.

 

So I thought of the name of her best friend and actor, Will Selms. When Will arrived, he had the perfect solution. Paula Norwood, stage manager at the local community theater, had recently fallen down the costume loft stairs and died from her injuries. The show desperately needed a stage manager. Teddy could have the job and live in the cottage behind the theater. Problem solved.

 

Only Teddy didn’t know the first thing about being a stage manager. But with Will’s help, she learned all the terms and the superstitions. And of course, every theater is haunted, and before long, Teddy made the acquaintance of George, the theater ghost. George saw Paula fall and tells Teddy it was not an accident. She decided to solve the mystery. George says he will help, but he has his own agenda.

 

Something very unexpected happened during the writing of this book. Teddy and Will started to have a typical love scene when Teddy said to me, “I don’t really want this.” To my surprise, I didn’t want it, either. That’s when I realized I had never wanted it. And then, like Teddy, I found a word for this feeling. Asexual. This opened a whole new part of Teddy’s character and gave me a chance to work through what had puzzled me about relationships practically my whole life. Like any other sexual orientation, there is a vast spectrum of feelings. In Teddy’s case, she is still romantically attracted to Will and fears revealing her secret might ruin their relationship.

 

A ghost light is the one light left on in the theater at night. Superstition says it keeps the harmful ghosts away and lets the friendly spirits come onto the stage to act once again. When I turned on the ghost light for this book, I turned on the light for Teddy and for me. Yes, I was starting over, but it was a brand-new act and a chance to discover more about myself and my characters. 

 

Ghost Light

Theodosia "Teddy" Ballard knows nothing about community theater, but when the stage manager for “Little Shop of Horrors” takes a tragic header down the costume-loft stairs, she agrees to fill in for the sake of her actor friend, Will. Teddy takes the superstitions and swelled heads of The Stage in stride—till she meets George Clancy Everhart, the theater ghost, who informs her that the previous stage manager was murdered and demands that she find the killer. Both investigation and rehearsals are complicated when she makes a surprising discovery about her relationship with Will—and learns that George has his own dramatic agenda.

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