Viv Calloway is fifty-three, newly abandoned, and sitting on her kitchen floor eating Oreos. Her husband Craig didn't just leave — he drained every account, forged her signature on a second mortgage, and fled to Belize with a woman named Tiffani. His parting words? A Post-it note on the fridge: Sorry. I couldn't help myself. 

Now Viv has sixty days before foreclosure, a resumé that lists "crisis management (lice, vomit, hamster incidents)," and a biological father she's never met who has just appeared on her porch with a saxophone and a duffel bag. Armed with a best friend who categorizes wine by emotional crisis, a community college computer class taught by a man with distractingly good forearms, and the stubborn discovery that twenty-five years of running a household might actually be a marketable skill — Viv sets out to build the life nobody expected her to have. Least of all herself. 

Funny, fierce, and full of heart, Starting Over at Fifty-Three is for every woman who's ever been told her skills didn't count — and decided to prove otherwise.

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