My name’s Stella May Reid, but thanks to my grandangels, most ever’body I know calls me Granny. Nice to meet y’all.

You may have heard about me. Here in my little town of McGill, Georgia, I’ve got a bit of a reputation that, frankly, I’m not sure I deserve. A few years back, I smacked a no-good, lowdown weasel, named Bud Bagley, upside the head with my best 14-inch cast iron skillet, and to this day, I’ve not lived it down. It doesn’t seem to matter that mangy, ugly Bud deserved what he got, or that it was more of an itty-bitty love tap than an outright wallopin’. Heaven knows, I’m not the sort of woman who would attack a fellow human being, even wifebeater Bud Bagley, with an iron skillet. I know better. Good, well-seasoned, cast-iron skillets are hard to come by these days, and I have more respect for quality cookware than that.

Okay, I’ll come clean. That’s not all together true. Fact is, I chased that old buzzard all over my kitchen, out the back door, and around my yard, and I got in as many licks as I could manage before he finally made his escape through my blackberry bushes. (That was a particularly gratifyin’ sight, I’ll tell you.) I’d been lookin’ forward to whackin’ the tar outta him for years—ever’ time I saw his wife, my friend Flo, with a black eye or busted lip. So, that day, when Flo came crashin’ through my back door and into my kitchen all scared and cryin’, sportin’ a bloody nose and Bud chargin’ in after her, threatnin’ to send her to her Maker, I just happened to be holdin’ the biggest skillet I owned. I took it as a sign from heaven that Bud Bagley should reap a bit of what he’d sowed, and let’s just say, I didn’t exactly hold back.

Before the Skillet Massacre, I was known far and wide as a nice lady who baked good pies and took ‘em to people in need of some comfort. I still am. But now people say, “Stella May Reid’s a kind woman and a good cook, but if you get on her bad side, you’re takin’ your life in your hands.”

That suits me just fine.

But I wasn’t asked to tell you about Bud and the skillet and my reputation. You want to know what a day in my life is like? Well. . .it’s not what it used to be. That’s for sure.

Once upon a time, long, long ago, mornings in my house were peaceful affairs, quiet and orderly. The only sounds to be heard were the crackling of bacon and eggs frying in the skillet and the perking of the coffee pot. The good smells were enough to convince my poor, tired husband of thirty years to get out of our feather bed and into his overalls.

As soon as Art downed a breakfast big enough to choke a horse, he’d start his long, hard, full day—the day of an American farmer. I had it a lot easier back then. After tidying up the house, robbing the hens’ nests in the chicken coop, weeding the garden, tending my prize roses, and maybe baking a cake or pie for an ailing neighbor, I’d sit in my chair or on the porch swing and rest my bones. Life was easy and good.

Life’s always good, if you take time to count your blessings, but it ain’t always easy. Sometimes, when you least expect it, your road can take a hard, left-hand turn. That’s what happened six years ago. My husband was killed, and I can’t even begin to tell you the hole that left in my heart. I went from making him breakfast every morning to cryin’ and missin’ him and worryin’ myself plum sick about my grandkids, who were bein’ treated so bad by their parents that I truly feared for their lives.

Finally, things got so rough that the law stepped in, took charge of the situation and gave the young’uns, all seven of them, to me to raise.

I still miss my husband and cry over losin’ him at least once a day. But I have to keep it short, ‘cause I got more important things to do with my time. . .like figurin’ out how I’m gonna feed seven kids, breakin’ up fights between the girls over who’s gonna wear what hair ribbon, bandagin’ up my grandson after he takes another tumble outta the pecan tree, and once in a blue moon, I help Sheriff Manny Gilford (a fine man of upstandin’ character and easy on the eyes, too) solve some sort of criminal case. Lo and behold, I’ve discovered I’m good at it! Almost as good as I am at skillet-smackin’.

You can read more about Granny in Murder in Her Stocking, the first book in the NEW “Granny Reid” mystery series.

As the Moonlight Magnolia Agency revisits old memories on Christmas Eve, Granny Reid takes the reins back thirty years to the 1980s—back when she went by Stella, everyone’s hair was bigger, and sweaters were colorful disasters. But murder never went out of style . . .

Christmas has arrived in sleepy McGill, Georgia, but holiday cheer can’t keep temperamental Stella Reid from swinging a rolling pin at anyone who crosses her bad side—and this season, there are plenty. First an anonymous grinch vandalizes a celebrated nativity display. Far worse, the scandalous Prissy Carr is found dead in an alley behind a tavern. With police puzzled over the murder, Stella decides to stir the local gossip pot for clues on the culprit’s identity . . .

Turns out Prissy held a prominent spot on the naughty list, and suspects pile up like presents on Christmas morning. Unfortunately, the more progress Stella makes, the more fears she must confront. With a neighbor in peril and the futures of her beloved grandchildren at risk, Stella must somehow set everything straight and bring a cunning criminal to justice before December 25th . . .

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About the author
Since publication of her first novel in 1986, Sonja Massie has authored over sixty published works, including the highly popular and critically acclaimed “Savannah Reid Mysteries” under the pseudonym G. A. McKevett.

Sonja’s novels range from Irish historicals to contemporary thrillers. Her earthy humor and fast-paced plots delight her fans, while critics applaud her offbeat characterizations and incisive observations on human nature.

Irish by ancestry, Sonja has authored two non-fiction books on the history of Ireland: The Complete Idiot’s Guide To Irish History And Culture and Irish Pride: 101 Reasons To Be Proud You’re Irish. Both books impart detailed knowledge of the complex and controversial Irish story with a light hand and plenty of humor. Her Irish novels include: Dream Carver, Daughter Of Ireland and the bestselling Far And Away – the novelization of the Ron Howard movie starring Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman.

On nationwide tours, Sonja lectures to published and “pre-published” authors in her workshop, “The Novel Approach,” a seminar which covers such topics as: story structure, characterization, plotting, pacing, and marketing manuscripts.

Sonja has taught numerous courses at university and adult continuing education facilities including: general fiction, historical research, and mystery writing. She was managing editor at “Single Living” magazine and has functioned as a manuscript doctor and storyline editor for major publishers. Earlier in her career, she was a prolific ghostwriter, authoring both fictional and non-fictional books for celebrities and professionals.

Having lived in Los Angeles, Toronto, and County Kerry, Ireland, she now resides in New York.

All comments are welcomed.