Raised in the West Indies by wild dogs, Trenton got his first introduction into knife fighting when he wandered into a drunken brawl behind a Carny caravan. After several adventurous years in a traveling circus that included smugglers, a brief romantic affair with the bearded lady, and several hundred headless chickens, Trenton decided to make a break for the New Americas. He hid aboard a pirate junket specializing in stolen precious gems and notepads for left-handers.
Surviving the long voyage on lemons and rat meat, he decided to take up his hand at writing fiction. Upon successfully making it to the mainland (the only crew member to arrive without scrurvy), he found a job in design, settled down and now has a wife, a kid, and a mortgage.
Sometimes, late at night, he runs outside and buries bones.