Jason Reynolds lives in Portland, Oregon with his fiance and legion of feline shock troops. When not shoveling loads of congealed cat urine out of a plastic box, he spends time cycling, playing computer games, painting and sculpting miniatures, working in the art and sign area of a grocery store, enjoying the company of his woman and housecat roommates, and trying desperately to overcome a grisly and overpowering fear of rejection that leaves his artistic ambitions quivering, useless, and sweaty in a methamphetamine-esque parody of failure.

     Often mistaken for a less-ugly Christian Slater, a not-nearly-as-good-looking Johnny Depp, or some kind of Morlock-esque sewer goblin, Jason would like to see himself illustrating roleplaying game books and comics, because, sadly, if he indeed does have any kind of superpowers or mutant supernatural ability, they damn sure would have manifested by now.