I’m a normal person. Granted I have a somewhat abnormal vocation. I train service animals for PTSD sufferers, mostly combat veterans.
But other than that, I’m just a small-town, thirty-something divorcee.
My name is Marcia Banks—pronounced Mar-see-a, not Marsha. Okay, okay, so I don’t have a totally normal name.
I live in central Florida, on the outskirts of the Ocala National Forest, in a little town called Mayfair, population 258 (and a half. Agnes Baker’s pregnant. Again.)
The town ...