Tuesday, November 18, 2014

RELEASE DAY: Tara Mayoros "Eight Birds for Christmas"


In the Christmas novella Eight Birds for Christmas, a Holiday funeral sends Laidan into a dormancy of sadness. Holed up in her mother's lake house with her best friend and her bodyguard, birds appear one by one as gifts that help her through a time of grieving. Each birds carries with it a word and a hope that things will begin to look up.

Hurt from the realization that the rock star life Laidan led had made her selfish, the birds reveal forgotten memories and glimpses into how she can become a better person. It will take confronting her past to make peace with her future. By taking to heart the gifts the birds bring, Laidan begins to realize the true meaning of Christmas and that there are other ways that she can share her song.



As a child, Tara Mayoros moved to Asia with her family where her love of different cultures and travel began. In college she satisfied her wanderlust by moving back to China, filling her head with countless stories, and occasionally writing them down.

Years, marriage, children and many adventures later, she picked up her dusty pen and paper (or laptop) and realized that writing took her to different worlds and gave her the experiences that she yearned for. As an author, artist, baker, music teacher, gardener, and nature lover – she sees the beauty in the process, and the miracle, of creation. The Rocky Mountains are her home and they call to her whenever she finds herself in need of inspiration.



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Chapter One


A hush blanketed the room. The people stood in silence, which had never happened before. Usually they were as chatty as a flock of seagulls. She glanced around the room, thoroughly confused. Laidan had grown accustomed to their endless critiques and ridicule, so this reaction surprised her.

“What, what’s wrong?” Laidan asked in a small voice. Her hair and makeup team only smiled.

The fluttering in her chest multiplied and her palms became moist as she wove her fingers around each other. Laidan thought she had overcome the nerves. She also thought it strange the different levels of nervousness she could experience in one single night.

Known to her fans as Lady Laidan, the past couple of months left her trailing in the whirlwind wake of airports, stadiums, and screaming fans. But this year felt different. First of all, the venues were much larger, the stage set now consisted of fireworks, and of course the number of fans had multiplied. Now to think — she awaited the stage for the coveted spot of singing for the White House Christmas program. This both terrified and excited the world’s newest rising star. She gazed around the dressing room again, awaiting an answer.

Stunning! Glorious! I have never been more proud — ever.” Tom, her fashion designer, had never been one to dish out compliments. In fact, there had always been an unsaid war between the two of them about her image. Relief settled as she felt color return to her face.

“Really, Laidan, I hope now you won’t refuse to dress this way more often. You should, you know. Embrace your inner diva. The fans would love it!”

She laughed internally at the thought of being a diva, but only smiled. The last thing she wanted to be was a dress up doll. It had always been about the music. That’s what fueled her desire for being in this crazy industry. Most others, it seemed, loved the pageantry of it all. But not her, she loved the songwriting, the itchy fingers as she picked through the chords on her guitar, then seeing how it all came together during her concerts. It was the process, not the end result that made her happy.

She could feel the weight of her gown as folds of it fell around her ankles. Swirling snowflakes stitched with crystals danced on the white silk. She unhitched her hands and looked down at her jewelry. “Frost and icicles” Tom had called it when he pitched the idea to her, rather timidly back then. Now, she didn’t doubt his genius. Diamond rings sparkled on her fingers in the shape of intricate snowflakes.

“So this is what it feels like to be a bride, I guess,” she finally said, feeling the huge smile on her face.

Tom laughed flamboyantly. “Better. Much better. More like a Snow Queen.” He placed his hands around her arms. “Turn around, just look at yourself.”

The vast fabric of her skirt made it hard to make sudden movements, so she slowly turned around. Her breath caught as she noticed her hair. How had they done that? She was known for her long dark hair and her hairstyles were often the cover of magazines, but tonight, Tom had outdone himself.

“Maybe now you will be more excited about the doll industry contacting you about fashioning a doll after you.” Tom turned to the others and squealed in delight. “Can you just imagine!”

Laidan rolled her eyes at their dramatics as they whispered with excitement to each other. To be polite, she smiled, which had come easily because, despite the secret panic attacks that overcame her on stage, she had never been so happy. Reaching up to touch the dark mass of her updo, her fingers skimmed across the crystal and diamond snowflakes, which seemed magically attached in her hair. Her fingers followed her neckline down to the diamonds and crystals that were shaped into delicate patterns and looked as if they had frozen as they landed on her chest.

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