Old Bones and New Ghosts

January 24, 2024

Old Bones and New Ghosts

Old Bones and New Ghosts
(The Marti Mickkleson Mysteries)
by Kay Charles

About Old Bones New Ghosts

Old Bones and New Ghosts (The Marti Mickkleson Mysteries)
Cozy Mystery
2nd in Series
One Ghost Another Ghost (January 25, 2024)
Print length ‏ : ‎ 252 pages
Digital ASIN ‏ : ‎ B0CPCF4S3Z

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!

Enjoy an Excerpt
CHAPTER ONE
Marti Mickkleson, family black sheep and newly minted interim director of the Mickkleson Foundation, tried to focus on the matter at hand.
Mom held the reporter in thrall. Emily from The Gilmore Girls could learn a thing or six from her. Full-strength Margaret Alberta Dibble Mickkleson was impressive, not to mention scary.
However, the girl hovering in the corner behind Mom was intriguing. As far as Marti was concerned, intriguing beat impressive every time.
“Battlesborough County has been good to the Mickklesons, and it’s time we gave something back. Try one of the pink ones.” Mom handed a plate of cookies to MaryEllen Pernelli. The reporter purred.
The Girl flickered and disappeared.
A fat marmalade cat leaped to the arm of the tastefully upholstered sofa and settled in next to Marti. His purr hit chainsaw level. The rumble wasn’t the reporter after all.
“Is that...” Rather than the fawning voice MaryEllen used on Mom, the two words dripped with distaste. The unfinished question was the first the reporter directed at the Mickkleson daughter formerly known as “Marti Cray-Cray.”
Ginger-Boy flicked his fluffy tail.
“Bernard.” Marti scratched his chin. The rumble escalated to jet-on-the-runway level. “We don’t talk about his past.” She’d taken in the enormous orange cat when his previous human was arrested for murder. Mom was opposed, to put it mildly, to furry creatures residing in Bickle House, the family citadel. When Marti reluctantly agreed to help set up and oversee the Foundation, one of her stipulations was Bernard be allowed to live in the office. Mom wasn’t pleased but declared it better than having him mucking up her valuable heirlooms. Not her exact words, but if Marti’s alternate plan, leaving Bicklesburg and taking the cat with her, had any effect on her mother’s acquiescence, Mom would never admit it.
“Interesting name,” MaryEllen said.
“He came with it.” Not completely true. Bicklesburg’s sole veterinarian told Marti Ginger-Boy’s name was Barney, but she’d decided he deserved a bit more dignity. He had, after all, saved her life. He saved her mother’s too, but Margaret Mickkleson wasn’t about to award him any medals.
“My great, great uncle was a Bernard,” Mom said. “It is a name with gravitas.”
First Marti’d heard of any Uncle Bernard in the family tree. She’d ask Grandma Bertie about him when she had the chance. It was hard to believe Mom would make up ancestors for the cat’s benefit. Maybe she was softening.
The Girl was back, hovering behind MaryEllen. Of all the ghosts Marti had known—and she’d met many in her thirty-two years—only two had flickered and wavered like the Girl. Both had blinked out and disappeared for good to wherever it was the dead went when they weren’t hanging around bothering her. Grandma Bertie, who, being dead for over thirty years herself should know, called it “crossing over” but was reticent on the details.
Where was her great-grandmother, anyway? The spirit of Alberta Marcile Ferguson had been with Marti her entire life. The old spook nagged a lot but also provided moral support when Marti needed it. At the moment, she needed it, and Grandma Ghostypants was nowhere to be seen.
“Marcile? Ms. Pernelli asked you a question.” To the untrained ear, Mom’s silky tone could be construed as parental pride. It told Marti the interview was a test. One she was in danger of failing. Big time.

About Kay Charles

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. She also knits and sometimes purls. Both their lives would be much easier if one of them enjoyed housework.

Author Links

Webpage: https://kaycharles.com/ (includes blog)

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/17086036.Kay_Charles

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/KayCharlesMysteries/

Purchase Links
Amazon Amazon Series Page

TOUR PARTICIPANTS

January 23 – Mystery, Thrillers, and Suspense – AUTHOR GUEST POST

January 23 – Brooke Blogs – SPOTLIGHT

January 24 – Literary Gold – SPOTLIGHT WITH EXCERPT

January 25 – Sarah Can’t Stop Reading – REVIEW

January 25 – Reading Is My SuperPower – SPOTLIGHT

January 26 – The Mystery of Writing – CHARACTER GUEST POST