Thank you so much for inviting me, Dru. Iʼm quite stunned that anyone would be interested in a day in the life of Francie Vanderhoosen. Seems like senior citizens are invisible to most folks, so Iʼm thrilled to be here. My life is fairly quiet most days. I live in a historic townhouse in Old Town, Alexandria in Virginia. My dear, departed husband and I moved into this house when we were in our thirties, so that means Iʼve seen a lot in this neighborhood over the years. We were the original desperate housewives!

Iʼm Sophie Winstonʼs next door neighbor. What a stroke of luck it was when she moved in. That girl cooks and bakes like a dream and the best thing is that she shares! Once in a while, I get involved in her murder investigations. Dear heaven! They wear me out. People are certainly fascinating creatures.

Most days I have coffee and toast in the morning, then putter around out in the garden. Pretty boring stuff. But the scuttlebutt around town these days is all about Roscoe Greeneʼs wedding to his assistant. I met Roscoeʼs wife, Olive, ages ago at a plant exchange. My husband was an avid gardener, just like Olive. It wasnʼt long before we became fast friends.

Olive is the most unpretentious person in the world. She never bothered with makeup, except maybe a little slash of lipstick for a fancy occasion. Even though she and Roscoe were wealthy, they were never flashy about it. Well, you can imagine how shocked she was when Roscoe ditched her for his young assistant after forty plus years of marriage. Iʼm still disappointed in him. What was that old goat thinking?

Fortunately, Olive landed on her feet — mostly. Iʼm going house hunting with her today. The only thing she cares about is enough acreage to start a fabulous garden. Iʼm not sure which hurt her more, being dumped by Roscoe, or leaving the beautiful gardens she had tended so lovingly.

The wicked interloper has arranged for an away wedding. I hear thatʼs all the rage. In my day, you bought a dress and walked down the aisle. But, no! The aisle in question had to be in Ireland. Iʼm treating Olive to a trip to the gardens at Winterthur on the day of the wedding to take her mind off of it. Itʼs one of those little old lady bus tours up to Delaware. Weʼll have a blast, and we donʼt have to do the driving.

Iʼm not sure how much it will help, though, since the slights continue. Olive wasnʼt even invited to the annual family picnic and open house — like sheʼs some kind of pariah! Now Olive is a very gracious woman. Sheʼs kind and giving, and loves her son more than anything else in the world, but sheʼs no pushover. Olive and I might have gone gray, and thereʼs no wrinkle cream that could make us look like that Jolie woman, but the challenges in life give a person backbone. We might not jog anymore, but weʼve got mettle and moxie. Never mess with little old ladies!

They say hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Hehehe! I believe that little golddigger is about to feel some fury.

** Thanks to the publisher, I have one (1) copy of THE DIVA DIGS UP THE DIRT to give away. Contest open to residents of the US only. Contest ends June 23. Leave a valid-email address with your comment. The book will be shipped directly from the publisher. **

I’m happy to announced that The Diva Digs Up The Dirt ranked Number 31 on The New York Times Bestseller’s list. Woo Hoo!

Meet the author
Krista Davis writes the Domestic Diva mystery series. THE DIVA DIGS UP THE DIRT will be released on June fifth. The Diva Runs Out of Thyme and The Diva Haunts the House were nominated for Agatha awards. Krista lives in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia with three dogs and two cats and is currently sampling recipes for The Diva Frosts a Cupcake — someone has to do it. Krista’s website is and she blogs at and

Books are available at retail and online booksellers.

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