FracMan Conflicted by Ian Dexter Palmer Book Tour and Giveaway :)
FracMan Conflicted
by Ian Dexter Palmer
Genre: Christian Romance
Fracking for oil is both dangerous and controversial. Cautious and talented Kelly is a successful young petroleum engineer intent on climbing the corporate ladder. She suddenly finds herself on shaky ground when assigned to work with the FracMan, Jordan, a reckless older engineer whose risk–taking propelled him to the top of the field. Their unlikely attraction brings challenges to them both, as they wrestle with love, risk, and tragedy, while seeking God.
A love story that is both entertaining and informative, FracMan Conflicted takes readers on a journey around the world and into the everyday workings of the oil and gas industry.
Explore the science of fracking and earthquakes while contemplating love, loss, and the need for faith that goes deeper than it all.
Reviews
“If you are concerned about or interested in fracking in the oil and gas industry, then this novel is for you. You will be exposed to the intricacies of fracking while at the same time be entertained by this author in a manner which is unique to him. Love his style… you are in for a treat.” ~ Garland W. Ray, Retail Store Manager, Pep Boys, Albuquerque, New Mexico.
“This novel is about the work life of Kelly, a young engineer in the oil and gas industry, who starts her career working on wells in the USA. The story of her work life is joyful and amusing and her challenges during the work and relationships with her colleagues make the novel highly entertaining. How she gains experiences during her career and evolves from a rookie to an experienced engineer is beautifully told in this book.” ~ Alireza Salmachi, Professor, Australian School of Petroleum, University of Adelaide.
“Dr Palmer has skillfully combined an intriguing story of love, faith, real life experiences, and professional challenges in the field of oil and gas drilling and production. This is a well-rounded rendering of life in the real world, all the while keeping one’s attention, and making the technical aspects of the book entirely understandable. His love for God, people, and nature has culminated in a book that is both highly enjoyable and informative.” ~ Don Minton, Accountant (ret.), Idaho Falls, Idaho.
Chapter 1
Whoosh.
The mix of gas and coal and water screamed up the well to the
drilling rig. The mixture shot up the vertical outlet pipe only a few
feet from where she was standing next to the drilling foreman, a man
called Bates, on the platform at the bottom of the drilling rig.
Kelly jerked backwards involuntarily. Although she had been warned
what to expect, it was all so sudden, and as loud as a crack of
thunder. Shielding her eyes against the sun, Kelly saw that the burst
lasted ten minutes, then dissipated dejectedly as the final bunch of
coal particles fell to the ground away from the rig.
The
drilling rig was in the heart of the San Juan basin, one of the
premier natural gas- producing basins in American
history. Kelly had been sent out there as part of her introduction to
well completions, the group she was assigned to in her Houston
home-base.
Kelly
Owens was a young petroleum engineer, age twenty-two, who had
recently joined the oil-and-gas company
called Bundaleer. She had shoulder-length reddish hair, green eyes
and a turned-up nose which she had always thought was unattractive.
She fit into her work jeans quite nicely, according to a faint
comment she caught from two rig hands she was walking behind. She was
the only woman at the well site and the year of 1992 was still early
days for female engineers at a drilling site. Companies had to
retrain their rig-hands to change their sometimes crude language and
actions when a woman was present. This situation cemented Kelly’s
goal of succeeding as a petroleum engineer in a man’s world. As a
salient part of this, she had to earn respect from men like Bates,
the drilling foreman.
Cavity
completions were one type of well completion, specifically adapted to
coalbed methane wells. Much more common were hydraulic fracture
completions, or frac completions, that had been around for 45 years
and were used on over 70% of all wells of all kinds. Kelly knew when
she hired on that the company plan was to introduce her to frac
completions later, but their policy was to encourage diversity with
new employees.
The
rig, taller than a four-story building, was located in a valley close
to the Animas River which flows from the spectacular mountain town of
Durango down to Farmington in the desert of New Mexico. The river’s
full name is Rio de las Animas Perdidas, which means River of Lost
Souls. Had she been a psychic, Kelly might have felt an omen there.
In
a beautiful site with Cottonwood trees changing to gold as Fall set
in, the drilling rig was surrounded by steep hills that contained
sandstone benches jutting out one above another, each separated by a
slope of softer shale rock. After climbing to the top bench on the
previous day, Kelly had been surprised to see the tracks of a
mountain lion. She looked around warily, as she recalled an incident
in which a mother was hiking with two youngsters in this area. One of
the youngsters darted away to pee behind a large boulder, when a
growl and a cry was heard. Confused, the mother ran around the
boulder to see a large lion carrying away her four-year old by the
neck. Frantically the mother ran after the lion pelting stones at
him. The lion dropped the child and ran off, but it was too late . .
. the child died in her arms.
“Well,
what d’you think of that?” the rig foreman asked in a deep voice,
referring to the whoosh of the well blowdown. Bates McCollum was
close to six feet six inches and a hefty giant with a strong jawline,
which Kelly imagined to be typical of a guy used to making quick
decisions. Although his body-language usually matched his physique —
strong and exaggerated — in this instance he smiled at Kelly and
gave a quick wink.
“Amazing.”
Kelly nodded but decided not to wink back. She was still feeling her
way in this her first oil-and-gas field job, one which historically
was an all-male setting. She was determined to succeed, and as a
bright young engineer, she wanted more than food or drink to impress
the rig foreman. “I find myself thinking about what this does to a
coal seam – the gas source — down there at 3,000 feet
underground.”
Bates
spread a small frown above his eyes and pulled on his earlobe. “What
do you think it does?” asked Bates, always eager to test any bright
young engineers the company hired.
Kelly
paused and took a swig from her water bottle. If she felt confident,
she liked communicating with men. She had a knack of teasing a
little, not quite flirting, but close enough that most men responded
positively. “Well, the sudden pressure drop when you open the valve
at the wellhead breaks up the coal at the bottom of the well, because
coal is a soft rock, and the rapid flow of gas and water carries
smaller pieces of coal as well as coal dust up and out of the well.”
“Okay”.
Now Bates came alive and pointed the index finger of each hand at
Kelly’s middle. “So, the underground coal is broken up. Some of
it is carried out of the well, as you say. And we already know some
of it, the heavier pieces, stay in the bottom of the well and sit
right there until we clean them out. So, a cavity begins to form
around the drillpipe, right?” He paused and stretched his arms away
from his brawny chest. “What I really want to know is, how large is
this hole, this cavity behind the drillpipe that allows the gas to
rush into the well? This is the key to a cavity completion, you
know.”
Kelly
was smart enough to suspect a motive behind the question. “Do you
already know the answer and are just testing me?”
“Hell,
no!” Bates raised his deep voice to add emphasis. “Lots of steak
dinners have been bet on how big this cavity is. Nobody knows.”
“Really,”
she replied with a twinkle in her green eyes. “It can’t be that
hard to figure out.” It was an impulsive statement, running out of
her brain like water out of a garden faucet as soon as it’s turned
on. The insecure part of herself immediately worried whether she’d
been too rash. Her hands got clammy.
The
words stopped Bates cold. He leaned back and his eyes bored into
Kelly’s face. “How would you figure it out Kelly?” Kelly knew
only a little about Bates McCollum, since this was their first
meeting. She had heard he was from Wyoming, raised on a cattle ranch.
This fitted the type of take-charge rancher with decisive opinions
about guns and the role of government. It would be pretty easy for
Bates to wrestle a calf to the ground and hold him there for
branding. If there was a soft side to Bates, she hadn’t seen it yet
and she would tread carefully.
Kelly
glanced away from his penetrating eyes. Her eyelids started
twitching, which they did when she felt insecure or stressed. The
twitching, which the doctors couldn’t cure, was embarrassing
because it forced other people to break eye-contact and look away
from her. Although she had developed a bag of tricks to quiet her
twitching eyelids, it always took a little time.
Kelly’s
insecurity in this particular moment had roots in her history — she
found it hard to trust another person to believe in her and her
ability. Her parents had always encouraged her to strive to win, but
never complimented her skills and abilities. As a result, Kelly
lacked self-confidence from when she started high-school. When she
played basketball she kind of froze and held back rather than jumping
in with dash and determination. As she matured, to compensate for
this insecurity she tended to speak up and challenge everything. She
became a fighter.
Kelly
spoke slowly and carefully. “Just measure the size of the cavity
hole using some kind of a tool that can go down the well.”
“Impossible!”
Bates shook his head vigorously.
“Why?”
Kelly asked – a little too quickly. She winced.
But
Bates didn’t appear to notice as he followed up with his own
challenge. “There are oilfield tools that measure the size of a
well, but not if its larger than a foot in radius. We expect this
cavity to be many feet in radius.”
Kelly’s
mind raced from one idea to another. To organize her thoughts, she
delayed by taking another swallow of water. Suddenly, a small sense
of excitement welled up inside her and her eyelids stopped twitching.
“I’ve got it. I think there are sonar tools that can measure the
size of large caverns that they store natural gas in for emergency
use. Maybe we could use one of them.”
Bates
laughed. “Not bad for a newbie,” he nodded graciously. “I
haven’t heard about such tools.” He pulled on his earlobe again.
“Maybe you should check your idea out… I think it’s a good
one.”
Kelly
relaxed and her face brightened. She had passed the first test, and
her heartbeat skipped a little in private joy.
Ian Palmer lives near the mountains in Albuquerque, New Mexico. He has a PhD in physics from Adelaide University, Australia. By profession, he is a petroleum engineer, who consults all over the world. As a Christian, Ian has always been fascinated by the interface between faith and science. Of special interest to him are the powerful concepts of grace, forgiveness, and insights from God. In his local church, he has taught Sunday school classes on a wide range of inspirational but practical topics.
Ian’s six grandchildren are a source of joy when he plays tennis or basketball or goes skiing or hiking with them. His hobbies include hiking, dancing, tennis, eating out, and stimulating conversation. After a dinner of cheese enchiladas with green chiles, Ian can sometimes be found two-stepping in the local country-and-western dancehall.
$50 Amazon
Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!
Comments
Post a Comment