Sibylla nash biography

What happens when you’re blindsided by betrayal and happy hour is no longer an option?

Elle Nixon seems to have the perfect life.  As a music PR maven and party girl on the L.A. social scene, she attends the hottest parties and has a roster of artists that reads like the who’s who of Billboard magazine. Her upwardly mobile bound

boyfriend lavishes her with plenty of gifts and attention until he disappears…during the middle of a high-profile fraud investigation into his investment firm by the FBI. Add an unplanned pregnancy to the mix and suddenly, it’s not so fun anymore to walk a mile in her Louboutins.

Will Elle’s search for answers help or destroy her as she confronts the past and tries to reinvent her future?

 
Excerpt:

AFTER A FULL DAY of sightseeing in Paris with eight writers and then a sound check at the
famed Olympia, I wanted nothing more than to close my eyes and sleep. Long and hard. I unlocked
my hotel room, took two steps in and flung myself fac

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“One True Thing”

Jocelyn found it hard to focus on the date, although it had been the only thing occupying her mind until she got the text from her daughter. And just like that, she was split in half. Part of her brain trying to decide which dress could accommodate her extra pounds and the other part worrying about how she should respond about the rally. Knowing that whatever she said wouldn’t change anything but could make things worse. This was the part of parenting that felt harder than any other stage. In the ambiguous swampland of motherhood, the wrong comment, question, or non-committal grunt, could put you in the muck and leave you struggling to find firm footing for days, if not weeks. It was the stuff that kept therapists in business.

Technically, her daughter was an adult in the eyes of the law, but in her heart, and Jocelyn sighed at this thought, Tamara would always be her baby. She glanced at her phone.

She had an hour before she needed to leave to meet P

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On Finding My Way Back to Writing After Years Away

I knew this day was coming, but the reality seemed to take root during the end of my daughter’s junior year of high school. inom would feel a cold ball of anxiety unraveling in my stomach after I dropped her off in the mornings. Sitting in traffic, I’d find myself sobbing, blowing my nose and wiping tears away with one grabb while steering with the other. I’d have a full 40 minutes to ruminate about her impending departure for college.

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I was starting to feel unmoored at the thought of losing motherhood as a daglig anchor. For almost 17 years, I’d been a single mom to an only child—and don’t get me wrong, most days I’m like hallelujah-thank-you-Jesus-we-made-it, my baby’s going off to college and momma gets a life.

I just don’t know what kind of life.

Motherhood had taken a minute to get used to, but I had grown to enjoy the structure and buffer it provided. As a mom, I had one goal: t