Verlene was born and raised in the south. Thanks to the military, she’s traveled the US, but now calls Sin City home…again.
Self-proclaimed zombie apocalypse enthusiast, word porn peddler, human canvas, Manowarrior, serial grammar killer, rabid Bama fan, accidental dust bunny population specialist, Lemmy obsessed old lady, and abuser of the word f*ck.
She’s thrown live grenades, survived the tear gas chamber, and forced road marches, but still thinks writing and publishing are more brutal.
Love isn’t about what’s in the past or on the skin. No one is irredeemable as long as they’re still breathing.