Excerpt From Polly Iyer's Mind Games

Here’s an excerpt from Mind Games. Hopefully, it points out the personality of one of my secondary characters.

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       Before Lucier could ask any more questions, the unmistakable bellow of Galen Racine thundered from an examining room down the hall.

“I’m fine, doc. I hear the police out there, and I need to talk to them.” He charged past the doctor and headed toward Lucier. “My head’s like a rock,” he said, knocking on his skull. “Nothing can hurt it. Tend to my wife, by God. She was unconscious. Bastard put her to sleep and took my little girl. Now let me the hell out of here. I got things to do.”

“I’m all right, Galen,” Blanche said, in her soft southern drawl. “A little groggy, but I’m fine.”

“Sorry, Doctor,” Lucier said, flashing his badge, “but these people are witnesses to a crime. I need to talk to them.”

“Be my guest. They’re all yours.” The doctor looked as relieved to rid himself of the two Racines as they were to be free of him. “I’ll make sure someone brings the release papers for them to sign before leaving.” He patted Lucier’s arm and said, “Good luck.” As he hurried off, he mumbled something that sounded like you’re gonna need it.

“Don’t you worry, young man,” Galen called after the doctor. “Ain’t nothing gonna happen to me, and she’s a tougher old bird than she looks.”

“Thank you, dear,” Blanche Racine said. “I sure appreciate the comparison.”

“He got her, Lieutenant,” Galen said, grabbing Lucier’s coat sleeve and shaking his head. “Took her right from under our noses. B. D. didn’t have a chance. We never seen him coming. You think he’s gonna kill her? Oh, Lord, if anything happens to her, it’s all my fault. I shouldn’t’ve been so casual ’bout the whole thing.”

Lucier removed Galen’s death grip on his jacket. “Calm down, Mr. Racine. We’ll find her. Let’s sit down in the waiting room so we can talk.”

“Is he gonna be all right?” Blanche asked. “B. D., I mean. He isn’t gonna die or anything, is he?”

“Looks like he’ll pull through, Mrs. Racine. Thank you for your concern.” Lucier asked Beecher to go to Harris’s home and bring his wife to the hospital. “She should be here.”

“I’m on my way,” Beecher said.

Once in the examining room, the cacophony started, both Racines jabbering like magpies, neither ceding the floor to the other.

“Wait! One at a time, please. Every minute counts.

Polly Iyer was born on the coast of Massachusetts. After studying at Massachusetts College of Art and Design in Boston, she traveled to Italy, lived in Atlanta, and now resides in the beautiful Piedmont region of South Carolina in an empty nest house with her husband, a drooling mutt named Max, and Joey, the sweetest cat in the world. 

Writing novels turned into her passion after careers in fashion, art, and business. Now she spends her time being quite the hermit in comfortable clothes she wouldn't be caught dead wearing on the outside, while she devises ways for life to be complicated for her characters. Better them than her.

And here's a link to all her books.  Enjoy.  
http://www.amazon.com/Polly-Iyer/e/B006IUWXWO/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1358741317&sr=1-2-ent