FracMan Conflicted by Ian Dexter Palmer - Book Tour + 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.
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