St. Germaine, North Carolina was in a crabby mood. Yes, the whole town. If a temperament could affect an entire populace, "crabby" was what St. Germaine was. Noylene's new personal Christian astrologer, a woman named Goldi Fawn Birtwhistle, blamed it on the convergence of Pluto and the third moon of Jupiter.
Pete Moss, the owner of the Slab Café, thought that the crabbiness might have something to do with the increasing levels of positive ion bombardment from outer space. Also included in Pete's theory were sunspots, an ever-widening hole in the ozone layer, the federal deficit, CNN election coverage, armadillo migration, and the cancellation of two long-running soap operas.
Usually in St. Germaine, the three weeks before Christmas were marked by an increase in good feelings toward one's fellow man. Not this year.
St. Germaine's police chief, Hayden Konig, and all the usual suspects, return in this heartwarming Christmas tale. When a long-lost cantata is found in the basement of the courthouse, a Christmas Eve performance is the order of the day. What happens next is anyone's guess.
Not a murder mystery, but one of the sweetest stories you're likely to read.