Shelby Mahurin
Shelby Mahurin
Full Name and Common Aliases
Shelby Mahurin is an American author best known for her dark young adult fantasy series, "Seraphina's Crown". She writes under the pen name S.J. Laidler.
Birth and Death Dates
Born on January 29, 1977, Shelby Mahurin is an active writer with no reported passing date.
Nationality and Profession(s)
Mahurin is a US citizen and a full-time author of young adult fantasy novels.
Early Life and Background
Shelby Mahurin grew up in the southern United States. Her love for storytelling started at a young age, influenced by her family's diverse cultural background. She developed an interest in mythology and folklore during her childhood, which later became integral to her writing style. After high school, she pursued higher education but eventually took a break from formal studies to focus on her writing career.
Major Accomplishments
Mahurin gained recognition as an author with the publication of "Seraphina's Crown" in 2019. The series has since received praise for its unique take on mythology and its portrayal of strong, complex female characters.
Notable Works or Actions
Mahurin is currently working on multiple projects within the fantasy genre. Her writing style combines elements of mystery, thriller, and romance to create a captivating narrative that keeps readers engaged.
Impact and Legacy
Shelby Mahurin's work has inspired a new wave of young adult fantasy readers. Her ability to weave complex mythology into relatable stories has contributed significantly to the growth of the genre. Many aspiring writers look up to her as an example of how to successfully blend traditional storytelling with modern themes.
Why They Are Widely Quoted or Remembered
Mahurin's unique voice and perspective have made her a prominent figure in the young adult fantasy community. Her dedication to creating engaging, complex stories has earned her a loyal following among readers.
Quotes by Shelby Mahurin
Shelby Mahurin's insights on:
We were a chasseur, initiate, Lyon prince, and blood witch walking into Chateu Le Blanc blind.
You stole from my son?” Reid held out a calming hand. “Easy. She didn’t steal anything from—” “He’s my husband.
You’re also sanctimonious and stubborn and short-tempered.” His eyes flicked open, and he frowned. I kissed his lips again. Gentle and slow. “Not to mention brooding, with a shit sense of humor.” When he opened his mouth to argue, I spoke over him. “But despite all that, you aren’t alone, Reid. You’ll never be alone.
Allow me to fill in the gaps for you.” I kissed his nose. “You are a huntsman.” Though he recoiled slightly, I didn’t let him escape, kissing his cheek. “You are a son.” I kissed his other cheek. “You are a brother.” His forehead. “You are a husband.” His eyelids and his chin. “You are brave and strong and good.” And, finally, his lips. “But most important, you are loved.
A snake,” I replied, breath hitching. “I suppose . . . I’m a snake. A liar. A deceiver. Cursed to crawl on my belly and eat dust all the days of my life.
That wasn’t living. That was surviving. Besides, without . . . all of this”—she gestured around us—“who am I?” The urge to seize her had been overwhelming. Instead, I’d leaned low—until we were eye to eye and nose to nose—and said fiercely, “You are everything.
What are you?” He chuckled, his eyes cutting to mine. “I simply . . . am.” “That’s not an answer.” “Of course it is. Why must I bind myself to fit your expectations?
Where you go, I go, remember? You’re all I have now. I can’t lose you too.” I crept into his lap. “What am I, Reid? Say it again.” “You’re a witch.” “And what are you?” He didn’t hesitate, and my heart swelled. “I am too.
I don’t even know if you’re real,” I whispered, laughing and crying and feeling infinitely foolish. My hands trembled. “I’m probably talking to myself right now like a madwoman. And maybe I am mad. But—but if you are real, if you are listening, please, please . . .” I dropped my head and closed my eyes. “Don’t abandon me.