When I started The Ledger of Survival, I didn’t do it with a plan for a series. I was trying to put something down before it slipped further away. The first book was about recording what happened without softening it, without shaping it into something easier to digest. Once it was finished, I realized there was more that hadn’t been written yet—not because it was forgotten, but because it hadn’t reached the surface.

The second book, Between the Wounded and the Living, comes from that realization.

This volume focuses on the second deployment, a stretch of time where familiarity replaced novelty but never brought comfort. By then, I knew how patrols worked, how casualty calls sounded, how exhaustion settled into the body. That knowledge didn’t make anything safer. It only meant I understood the cost sooner. The book lives in that space—where experience exists without control, where confidence meets consequence.

There are hard moments in this book. Loss that arrived without warning and stayed long after. Decisions made under pressure that could not be undone. The kind of violence that doesn’t resolve cleanly when the moment ends. But there are also moments that mattered just as much—the humor that cut through the tension, the stupid things we did to stay human, the brief relief found in shared exhaustion on a FOB late at night. Those moments weren’t distractions from the war. They were part of how we survived it.

Like the first volume, this book is written as lived memory. It isn’t analysis, and it isn’t reflection shaped by time. It’s a record of days as they happened, of what accumulated patrol by patrol. Nothing is explained away. Nothing is redeemed. It simply exists on the page the way it existed then.

Between the Wounded and the Living will be released on March 18th, 2026. If you’ve been carrying the first book with you, this is where the ledger opens again.