It seemed like any other summer day. Mom said I wasn't allowed to eat until I cleaned out the attic. Up the ladder I went, into the darkness I went. The heat was instantly unbearable, from the summer sun. Mom was more determined to ruin my summer than the Nazi's were to occupy Poland. I slaved, shuffling boxes around for what seemed like dozens of minutes even though my Xbox and an freeze pop was calling my name. Completely exhausted I collapsed onto the floor. That's when I saw it in the corner of the attic, a faint twinkle of light. At first I thought my mind was playing tricks on me-like a desert mirage, but I had to investigate. I pulled up the piece of plywood covering the shiny metal box quickly brushing off the asbestos-laden insulation revealing a metal box. Filled with curiosity, I busted off the old lock, opening it faster than if it was Blackbeard's treasure chest. Old Photo's in my hand, could it be true? My friend's grandparents, and my grandparents were friends? And had written notes- The Gentleman's Guide, in the trenches of WWII, when they weren't slaying commies.

Here is their works:

The Gentleman's Guide to Courting Womenfolk