ART BY MARIA CARIAS

COMMISSIONED FROM: maria.therese.art on Instagram

First off, you have to go check out Maria's art. We were sorority sisters, and then both ended up working in Disney. During this rought time of Quarantine, Maria opened up commissions to get some income. I jumped at the chance.

Creators supporting creators.

ART BY LULUXA

COMMISSIONED FROM: tumblr's luluxa. Definitely check out their profile. Absolutely STUNNING art from many fandoms including Band of Brothers. Easy to work with and so well priced that I tipped beause she deserves more!

Sneak Peak at Book Two
Humanity of the Broken

When her feet hit the snow, she stopped and groaned. It shouldn't have surprised her, but Alice's anger at her illness made everything feel a million times worse. All she wanted was some tea, a bed, a shower, and maybe even a book. Instead she was about to crawl into a foxhole with a German sniper rifle, her lungs filled with pneumonia, in order to try to rest up for the assault on Foy that they'd been working towards for a month.

The cold foxhole made her somehow even angrier. But as she took off her helmet and attempted to run her fingers through her hair, Alice just sighed. Her hands trailed over the wooden barrel of the Karabiner. She couldn't tell if she felt nauseous from the pneumonia, or from the gun in her lap.

A pit formed in her stomach. Alice hated how natural the grip felt in her hands, how she could pull the trigger. The faces of the captured men like Franz that she'd spoken to in Bastogne reminded her of just how many soldiers in the German army fought out of misplaced love for their people and their homeland, not out of a desire to eradicate the Jews or conquer the world. All they wanted was to be respected, to be treated fairly. They wanted to do their families proud.

And Alice had the nerve to stare down the scope, look in their eyes, and fire a bullet into their heads.

She knew why. She had a job. Alice had a job to keep her friends, her men safe. She had a job to take back the land Hitler had stolen from his people. She had a job to end this war.

Her heart rate rapidly increased. Alice felt herself struggling to breathe, both from anxiety and from the pneumonia. Not for the last time did she wish she'd never taken the mission in Paris, never set foot in the Maquis, and certainly never trained to jump out of airplanes. She knew she had a fever. She could feel it when she touched her face, and the chills consumed her body. It didn't help her turmoil at all.

What would her family think of her. She took German lives with a German gun, she herself one of them. Equally French, equally German. In the foxhole in the Battalion CP, her hands on the wooden Karabiner, Alice hated herself. She hated everything. She hated the war. She hated the world.

But above all, Alice hated the way that she'd fire that gun tomorrow anyways.