Peter Jerome is the son of two soldiers, born in West Germany after the Berlin wall fell. He studied Creative Writing at University before finding his inner Bukowski while working as a military postman. He once drove thousands of miles in a Volkswagen Beetle through New Orleans, Austin, Denver and Las Vegas as part of a vice-fuelled pilgrimage. He’s seen and done many things that he can’t discuss in good company, but is happy to talk absinthe, stripping, and being five foot three over a glass of cheap whisky.