Where the Crows Cross · Book One
Mavin
One girl, one techno-sentient being, and the war that would not stay in the past.
ComingChristmas 2026
Meet Mavin →Fiction // Psychology // Obsession
Archive entry // S. M. Wolfe // Open file
S. M. Wolfe
S. M. Wolfe is a forensic psychologist and Army veteran who spent years studying how people break. Now he writes grimdark fantasy and gothic erotica about what they become.Some wounds open into wonder. We break. We become.
Open the file → Some things survive being unmade.Case No. 731-19-A
Desire. Deviance. Survival. All part of the same file.
BeautyViolenceObsessionTruth
Exhibit B
DispatchTwo files inbound
Coming Soon
Two new releases are dated. Mark the file.
The Unmade Series · Book Two
Hold
They no longer make weapons out of people, only walls.
ComingApril 2027
Read about Hold →F.01 — The WorkThree ways of looking at the same wound
The Work
Index
I. FantasyII. Erotica
III. Psychology
File // Fantasy
Grimdark fantasy thriller
Worlds that already lost. People who keep walking through them anyway.
File // Erotica
Dark gothic erotica
Want and fear run down one wire. This is the work already out in the world, one story at a time.
File // Psychology
Dark psychology
A day job long before it was ever a genre. The books are the field notes I was not supposed to keep.
Exhibit ACollected, not invented.
F.02 — The Unmade SeriesSix files. One wound.
The Unmade Series
It begins with sixteen dead people inside one person.
It ends with one person who came from nobody.
Six books, six lives, one wound running through reality. Book one is out now. The rest are coming. What follows is the shape of them.
Book I
Pull
What have they done to people?
Sixteen dead soldiers ride inside one living body.
Available now Hardcover, paperback & ebook · Audiobook soonGet it on Amazon →Book II
Hold
What have they built out of people?
They no longer make weapons out of people, only walls.
Coming April 2027Book III
Breach
What have they done to reality?
The world is coming apart along two names no one will say.
In editingBook IV
Residue
What counts as a person when reality can erase one?
A dead man keeps leaving evidence.
In draft With beta readersBook V
Claim
Who gets to decide what is real?
When histories stop agreeing, someone decides which one is law.
DraftingBook VI
Resolve
Does reality have to become one thing?
The last one was never anyone at all.
OutlinedBeneath all six, the same question. What makes something real?
Unsealed // a page from the fileThe Unmade Series
Unsealed
Tav has sixteen dead people living inside their head. They can borrow a swordsman's hands, a spy's instincts, a survivor's brutality. Every inheritance makes Tav deadlier, and buries Tav a little deeper under the dead.
The war calls Tav a weapon. The Draft House calls Tav an asset. General Sonn has another word entirely, one Tav was never supposed to hear.
The war calls Tav a weapon. The Draft House calls Tav an asset. General Sonn has another word entirely, one Tav was never supposed to hear.
From Pull — Book One of The Unmade Series
Read the series →The other countryScience fiction · Dark fantasy
Where the Crows Cross
A second imprint, for the stories that leave this world behind. Science fiction and dark fantasy, cut from the same wound as everything else I write. The map changes. The questions do not.
Enter Where the Crows Cross →
The Unmade Series
MavinThe Apiary
Joseph JesupThe badlands
The Thing in the WhitewoodThe snowbound north
SacrificeBefore the fall
NecrogenesisAfter the fall
Science Fiction
Mavin
One girl, one techno-sentient being, and the war that would not stay in the past.
Thirty years after the last war burned the world to ash, what remains of humanity shelters inside the Apiaries, vast hives that hold the survivors under the United Terran Federation. Almost everything the species still knows lives inside the NIS, a mind-to-mind network that outlived the war and grew into a world of its own. Mavin Cree is twelve years old, orphaned by the accident that killed her scientist parents, and haunted by nightmares no one can quiet.
To save her, the great-uncle who raised her attempts something never done before. He fuses a full Kraxis consciousness into her implant and binds her, for life, to Atam, the first of his kind, a war-weary techno-sentient mind in the body of a great bear, the pinnacle of what human science ever built. She becomes the first human to carry one of them inside her. Nothing has prepared her for what that makes her.
Something old has broken loose. A Kraxis the war twisted into a weapon has torn out of the prison built to hold it, and it is cutting toward the heart of the network that keeps two hundred million people breathing. Inside the NIS, the dying is real now. The only thing standing in its way is a grieving girl and the techno-sentient being bound to her soul.
TransmissionsWhere the Crows Cross · Short fiction
The Crows Crossing Archive
Short fiction set in the worlds of Where the Crows Cross. Science fiction and dark fantasy, including the one Mavin walks. New pieces appear here as each is published.
Signal // 01
Joseph Jesup
An old gunman, a starving family crossing the badlands, and the armored bear that walks people out of the dark.
Signal // 02
The Thing in the Whitewood
A hunter with a dead, frost-bitten hand follows the crows into the Whitewood and finds something wearing his drowned brother's face.
Signal // 03
Sacrifice
A clinician drowning in a quarter-century of grief is offered the one mercy she cannot refuse: a chair that can reach into a memory and take it out by the root.
Signal // 04
Necrogenesis
Ten years after the world ended, a titanium bear walks a dead continent bringing dead servers back to life — and in the clean second after each one wakes, reaches down a cold line for the one person it was given to.
Field NotesPattern board · pull a thread
Pinned as I write them. A red thread runs from each one through Mind Mapping and out to the shelf it belongs to. Some cases are closed and posted. Most are still open, still in edit.
Joseph Jesup
We don't leave people. That's the only rule we've got left that's worth the breath it takes to say.
Short FictionRead ‘Joseph Jesup’ →The Thing in the Whitewood
Something that came through a crack in the world. It wanted what I had. The woods said no.
Short FictionRead ‘The Thing in the Whitewood’ →The House of Small Deaths
She was rich past any counting in other people's lives and could not have told you the first true thing about her own.
Dark Erotic FantasyRead ‘The House of Small Deaths’ →Aftertaste
No one leaves my bed as the person who climbed into it.
Gothic Horror-EroticaRead ‘Aftertaste’ →Concert Pitch
There is a sound you make that you have never heard, and I can hear it from where I am.
Gothic Horror-EroticaRead ‘Concert Pitch’ →Unbecoming
A woman unwritten one sentence at a time, and the sentences are lovely.
Dark EroticaRead ‘Unbecoming’ →Pull
When someone dies next to you their life pours into yours. A flood with no drain.
The Unmade Series · Book OneRead about ‘Pull’ →Hold
What ruins people is the part that goes on afterward, held, in a room, for as long as somebody needs it held.
The Unmade Series · Book Two · Coming April 2027Read about ‘Hold’ →Mavin
We made them to serve us, and then we taught them grief, and then we were surprised when they would not put it down.
Where the Crows Cross · Book One · Coming Christmas 2026Meet Mavin →Embrace of the Marble Vein
The crypt did not open when I turned the key. It inhaled.
Gothic Horror-Erotica In editingThe Decay of Eternal Clocks
In the dim recesses of the workshop, gears whisper their slow unraveling.
Gothic / Temporal Horror In editingEclipse
They do not notice the ones like me. We fade at the edges, our outlines softening in the neon bleed.
Gothic Horror In editingNetwork of the Unmade
A ghost is not what stays behind. It is what keeps walking away, just fast enough, forever.
Gothic Horror-Erotica In editingCatalyst
For an eternal instant, Orion glimpsed infinity… and it glimpsed him back.
A Crows Crossing Story In editingNecrogenesis
I have been following her for ten years at four miles an hour, which must be the slowest act of disobedience anybody has ever committed.
A Crows Crossing StoryRead ‘Necrogenesis’ →Sacrifice
I saw my own hand not reach.
A Crows Crossing StoryRead ‘Sacrifice’ →Twilight Requiem: The Kraxis Chronicles
They came in a grotesque parody of rainfall, corrupted Kraxis machines twisted into forms only a demented mind could concoct.
Where the Crows Cross In editingThe Cosmic Jest of Aris and Eccles
Reality is a sucker's bet. It's the house that always wins, and we, the gamblers, are the ones left holding the bag of illusion.
Where the Crows Cross In editingThe Deep Sounding
I received the directive. I executed it.
Grimdark Psychological Horror In editingThe Rehearsal
The first time I killed someone, it was an accident.
Psychological / Metaphysical Horror In editingEinherjar Syndrome
The conference room smelled like death and toner ink, but I'd gotten used to that months ago.
Existential Horror · Satire In editingThe Weaver's Gwenders
Deep cunning dances betwixt warp and weft.
Cosmic & Existential Horror In editingParadox of the Prodigy
Academia had dismissed him long ago as a crank, derided for dabbling in eccentric equations.
Psychological Thriller In editingThe Morrígan
Elfa Byrnes existed in the liminal space between performance and perdition.
Dark Fantasy Horror In editingThe Grief Vintner
Drink deep, child, for grief is the wine that makes mortals into gods.
Dark Fantasy Horror In editingA Witness to the Harvest
Beneath this oppressive vault, she hung, a ruin of flesh and soul lashed to ancient timber.
Dark Fantasy Horror In editingThrough the Mist
She moved through the mist like a ghost, her feet making no sound on the cobblestones.
Psychological / Atmospheric In editingBeneath the Weight
In the darkness, a void unfurls its wings, enveloping the soul in its suffocating embrace.
A Poem · Dark Psych. Fantasy In editingDrag or scroll to read · hover a note to trace its thread
F.05 — Gothic Erotica & HorrorShort fiction, as it lands.
Gothic Erotica & Horror
Short fiction and field notes, published one piece at a time while the novels finish.
New
Tune · Lie · Keep
Concert Pitch
Gothic Horror-Erotica
A piano tuner who can hear the one note a body was strung to ring at — and what it costs to be brought, just once, perfectly in tune.
Entry // 01
The House of Small Deaths
The danger was never that you might lose. It is how sweetly you will beg to.
Entry // 02
Aftertaste
The first thing a lover loses is his own hand above the salt.
Entry // 03
Network of the Unmade
A ghost is not what stays behind. It is what keeps walking away, just fast enough, forever.
Coming soonEntry // 04
Embrace of the Marble Vein
The crypt did not open when I turned the key. It inhaled.
Coming soonEntry // 05
Unbecoming
A woman unwritten one sentence at a time, and the sentences are lovely.
Coming soonF.06 — ReadingsIn the author's voice.
On the Record
The stories, read aloud in the author's own voice. New recordings are filed here as each one is cut.
Enter the full readings room →Gothic Horror-Erotica
Concert Pitch
A full reading of the tuner's confession — the one note a body is strung to, and what it costs to be brought, just once, perfectly in tune.
Dark Erotic Fantasy
The House of Small Deaths
A full reading of the drowned-city tale — the dealer, the stranger, and the one hand no one wins.
F.07 — HypnoticsEyes closed.
Hypnotics
Guided descents in dark gothic erotica, spoken as imagery. Audio only, with a single title card. Made to be heard in the dark, eyes closed. The first one is free.
Enter the Hypnotics →Guided descent
The Still Point
A guided imagery descent to the still point. A midnight platform, a clock at the turn of the hour, and a slow surrender into the quiet beneath it all.
Press play
F.03 — AboutCharacters linger.
Findings, a note from the author
I do not write monsters. Monsters are comfortable scapegoats used to avoid accountability. They let us believe the damage came from somewhere else. I write the by-products of a world in descent, the parts of a person a falling age uses up and leaves face down in the blood- and piss-soaked ditch, never once looking back. Never once considering what might climb out of the mud.
S. M. Wolfe is a forensic psychologist, professor, and Army veteran, writing out of Brunswick, Georgia.
F.04 — The ApproachNo good. No evil.
Method
Every story begins as a question.
I give it the sane answer first. Something reasonable. Something built to last, built to be loved.
Then I take my hands off it and let the world do what the world does. I do not rescue anything. I take notes.
Whoever or whatever is left is what I write about. Not who they were. What the pressure made of them. There is no version where they come through clean.
No good. No evil. Only people, and the machine with its hand down every throat. You would be surprised how many close their lips around it.
This is... The Method.
F.09 — PatronageKeep the work going.
For the writing, if you want to give.
Feed the Crows
Where the Crows Cross runs on reader support. The stories stay free to read, and anything you give helps.
What you give helps me keep writing and get the next book out. If you pitch in, you are part of how it gets made.
Buy Me a CoffeeAny amount, one time or recurring. No account needed.
F.08 — ContactRead at your own risk.
Read now, stay close
The first novel is out now, with more coming. The short fiction is already here.
For the books, leave an address. I will tell you the day the first one lands, and nothing else.
You are on the file.