I’ll admit one thing upfront—although if you ever tell my great-granddaughter I said this, I will deny it for eternity.

My afterlife could be far, far worse.

Most of the dearly departed (those still hanging out on this side of the veil) are tethered to a location or object. They have short leashes. Spending your afterlife in one place has got to be b-o-r-i-n-g.

I, Alberta Marcile Ferguson, met my not-quite end in a freak boating accident thirty-two years ago, on the eve of my great-granddaughter’s birth. (Please, no comments about the wisdom of a ninety-two-year-old canoeing without a life jacket.)

Are you even listening to me? Probably not. The odds of you hearing me fall into the slim-to-none category. Until recently, only one living person could see or hear me. It tended to get her into trouble.

Seriously folks. Just because you can’t see my crowd doesn’t mean we don’t exist.

Someone in the Afterlife Office either had a sense of humor or was feeling benevolent. I’m attached to that great-granddaughter.

Marcile Tobias Mickkleson, generally known as Marti, sees me, hears me, and can’t get rid of me. Where she goes, I go. The second we get farther than a football field’s length apart—BOOM—some blasted bungee cord kicks in, and I’m jerked to her side. For instance, we might be in the cop shop. I’m pumping old One-Eyed Eustace—the Law around here over a hundred years ago—for info. Marti ups and gets in her car and drives away whenever she feels like it. No warning. Just when Eustace is getting all charming and flirty and things are about to get fun—BOING. Bungee time. No sense of timing, that great-granddaughter of mine.

To be fair, I’ve never let on how much I enjoy getting flirty with Eustace. Quite the opposite. Even an old ghost needs some secrets.

And if you could see me, you’d know I’m worth flirting with.

Anyway, spending my afterlife with Marti hasn’t always been a yippy-skippy-happy-dance bowl of cherries. But since our return to Bicklesburg and the bosom of Marti’s loving family (okay—maybe not loving, but they’re all getting better at it), it’s been interesting, to say the least. We’ve solved a couple of murders, acquired a cat, and Marti’s been installed as Interim Director of the Mickkleson Family Charitable Foundation. The last one’s pretty dull, but the office has spirit. A spirit. She’s not talking to us, but we’re working on it.

On the plus side, the office is close to the town square where my friend Janice hangs out. I get to visit her every morning. And sometimes afternoons. A little apart-time has been good for Marti and me.

Today, Janice made a confession. Her life wasn’t quite as spotless as she made it out to be, and her past is about to be dug up. She wants Marti to investigate and set things right.

Two teeny-weeny problems. First, Marti refuses to believe she’s any good at detecting and, after last year’s incident, refuses to investigate anything more than a bag of Oreos. Second, she and Janice don’t like each other. They loathe each other. They did even when Janice was alive.

I wasn’t born yesterday. I have a few skills. I have perfect faith in my ability to convince my great-granddaughter to tackle Janice’s problem and in her ability to solve it. With my help, of course.

If she doesn’t get distracted by any new murders.

Old Bones and New Ghosts, A Marti Mickkleson Mystery Book #2
Genre: Cozy Mystery
Release: January 2024
Format: Print, Digital
Purchase Link

Marti Mickkleson and her ghostly Grandma Bertie are back!

With only one month to go until Marti meets the conditions of her late father’s will and gains control of her trust fund, she’s determined to be on her best behavior. No admitting that she can see ghosts and certainly no talking to the dead.

But her mother’s roped her into a new family project, her new office has a mysterious haunt, Grandma Bertie’s digging up mysteries from the past, her friend Dmitri’s barely speaking to her, and her sister’s life is falling apart. It’s enough to make a girl miss her days of flipping sort-of-beef patties on a Burger Buster grill.

Then things get really bad.

With both a cold case and a new murder on her hands, her “best behavior” won’t cut it. Protecting her family may cost her more than a trust fund. It may cost Marti her life—or the life of someone she loves.

Join Marti and Grandma Bertie in the follow-up to Ghosts in Glass Houses!

Meet the author
Kay Charles is the much nicer 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. Both their lives would be much easier if one of them enjoyed housework.

Connect with Kay at her website at kaycharles.com, on Facebook, and BookBub.