Tag Archives: Geology

Guest Release Promotion–Bad Lies by Rolynn Anderson

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Italy’s haunted caves spell danger for an American golfer and a NATO geologist

Sophie Maxwell is a late-blooming, unorthodox golfer, and mother of a precocious thirteen year-old. Determined to put divorce, bankruptcy, and a penchant for gambling in her past, Sophie goes to Italy for a qualifying golf tournament.

Jack Walker turned his back on a pro golfing career to become a geologist. As a favor to his ailing father he’ll caddy for Sophie; off hours, he’ll find caves on the Mediterranean coast, suitable for NATO listening posts for terrorist activity.

Someone is determined to stop Jack’s underground hunt and ruin Sophie’s chances to win her tournament.

On a Rome golf course and in the Amalfi coast’s haunted caves, all the odds are stacked against Sophie and Jack.  In their gamble of a lifetime, who wins?


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A wave of sadness about the chasm separating Jack from his father hit him hard. He covered his discomfort by picking up his water glass.

Sophie lost her smile. “You didn’t know your dad was coaching me, did you?”

“I told you, we don’t talk about golf.”

“Yet now you have to because you’re my caddy.”

He gave her a shrug. “He’s never asked me to do something for him, not since I quit golf. My mother’s been trying to get him to offer an olive branch for fifteen years. Seemed cruel not to accept one when he’s sick.”

“I get all that,” she said. Her expression morphed to calculating. “You wondered how I could afford your father, didn’t you? He told you I’m not paying for coaching lessons and—”

Raising his hand to stop her, he said, “Not my business.”

“I knew it. I could tell you were mad about something.”

Irritated she presumed to read his thoughts, he said, “I repeat—”

“You can’t figure out why he’d work free for a nut like me, but you won’t ask him. And you’re mad at me because you think I’m taking advantage of your dad.”

The sun and Sophie had him pinned down. He’d rather explore a dank cave.

“You won’t ask him and you won’t ask me. Do I see a pattern?”

Jack widened his eyes at her comment. When he saw her teasing smile, he exhaled. “Every time I talk to him on the phone, his motives get muddier. This isn’t about his heart problems or the operation. He’s using something about you or getting back to golf, or both, as catalysts for repairing my relationship with him.”

Sophie gulped. “Yikes.”

Jack nodded. “Like dropping the bomb about you not paying. He keeps upping the ante.” He huffed. “My inclination is to resist his manipulation.”

“So is mine,” she blurted. In the next moment, she looked down, appearing confused.


Her eyes met his. “Your father’s a good coach.”


“I’ve learned what he says works, if I apply it. Like the new Vision 18 concepts.”


“I want to win this tournament.”

“Of course you do.”

“I don’t blame you for feeling set up. But for this one week, could you erect a temporary bridge between you and your dad? Could we do exactly what he wants?”

Once again, Jack felt trapped. In the airplane, perpetually facing Sophie, on a dreaded golf course, all engineered by a father he hardly knew. He examined his hands, which hadn’t held a golf club or embraced a father in fifteen years. The tremor in his fingers spoke volumes.

When he raised his eyes to look at Sophie, he read genuine fear in her expression. She thinks if I balk at Dad’s bidding, she’ll fail.

Time stopped for a moment, underlining their separate fears, so strangely entwined. I thought I could do this without really getting involved. Now I’ve got her and my dad to worry about. Give me a cave to spelunk any day; rocks I understand.

Brows knit, she said, “Only five days of staying with your dad’s program.”

“Believe me, I know his philosophy.”

She gave him a not-that-well look.

“I’ll help you in every way I can.”

Sophie added narrowed eyes.

Feeling panic, he let out a breath. “Okay, I’ll talk to him. Later.” He ran his fingers through his hair.  “You, too. I’ll ask you later,” he said, his gut twisting as he made both promises.

rolynn color 1.5mb

Scandinavian, Army Brat, Wife, English Teacher, High School Principal, Golfer, Boater, World Traveler, Author.  She delights in creating imperfect characters faced with extraordinary, transforming challenges.  Her hope: You’ll devour her ‘makeover’ suspense novels in the wee hours of the morning, because her stories, settings and characters, capture your imagination and your heart.


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Author Interview–R.L. Ugolini

Today I have a friend, R.L. Ugolini, from the San Antonio Romance Authors as my interview guest.

Tell us a bit about you and your background

I lived in California off and on for ten years, studying geology, reading books, and writing stories. I loved it there even though the ground never seemed to stop shaking. I think I lived through some of the largest earthquakes to rock Southern California in recent decades.

The Landers Quake (magnitude 7.3) hit while I was sleeping, dreaming that someone was trying to wake me up, violently shaking me from my bed.

Only three hours later, the Big Bear Quake (magnitude 6.5) struck. This time, a neighbor did get me out of bed, worried for my safety.

I was, unfortunately, wide awake for the Northridge Quake (6.7 magnitude). This one came early in the morning after I’d pulled an all-nighter working on a math problem set. Sleep deprivation made the shaking seem catastrophic – I was sure the floor was going to collapse under me. I think I may have received an extension on the math.

After that, I spent some time in calmer tectonic regions, working at the U.S. Geological Survey. But Southern Californian finally called me back, and within days of my return, the Hector Mine Earthquake (7.1) rumbled through, as if welcoming me home.

What are your hobbies away from the computer?

I love to be outside. I spend a lot of time gardening, hiking, biking, and stargazing. This winter, I am shopping for rock to edge a small seating area I have created in my back yard. I love going to landscape supply lots, walking down the long aisles, past pallets and pallets of rock, and trying to decide between Monterrey and Pueblo Sunset sandstones.

Is your writing style planned or freestyle?

I have tackled projects both ways. However, I am learning I work much faster and with more confidence when I take the time to plot. Quakes was heavily plotted, right down to the phase of the moon.

If you use music while writing, name your favorite types.

I like to listen to music only if it can blend into the background. Sometimes, that means playing something I’ve heard a bazillion times. One of my favorites is an old Dwight Yoakam CD. By the time he gets to the chorus of This Drinkin’ll Kill Me, I’ve found my writing flow.

Have you traveled to any locations that appear in your books?

I’ve taken quite a few trips through the lonesome corners of Baja Mexico. I’ve scaled sandstone sea cliffs, unearthed ammonite fossils, run from rifle-waving landowners, and spent some of the most glorious days I’ve ever lived under the warm Mexican sun.

So much about my time in Baja inspired me to write Quakes, but one particular episode stands out.

We’d been driving all day and into the night when we pulled over to make camp. The ground was soft and sandy, the Pacific ebbing and flowing heavily somewhere close by. Moisture filled the air with a fine mist. There was no moon. Too dark to see anything and too tired to put up tents, we simply crawled inside our sleeping bags and surrendered to dreamless sleep.

When dawn broke, it brought clear skies, warm sun, and mooing. Sometime in the early morning, a herd of cattle had moved in to graze. We were surrounded on all sides by rheumy-eyed, cud-chewing beasts.

Thankfully, the cows were more interested in the grass we’d bedded down on than our persons. As we hastily rolled up our bags and made our way back to our vehicles, we took our bearings. Our makeshift campsite was on pastureland atop a bluff. Far below, the ocean glittered in the morning light, a sea breeze coming off the water. We gathered round a strong pot of coffee and watched fishermen wrestle with their nets. When a friendly goat wandered over, we shared our breakfast.

Everything felt so elemental and so vivid– the wind on our faces, the aroma of black coffee, the mews of cattle. I was there to study the geology of the region, but just then, I knew I would come away with so much more.

Do you write in a genre other than the one of this release?

I have written short stories for literary journals and for the horror market. One of my recent favorites, The Change, in Demonic Visions 50 Horror Tales Book 4, is a love story gone wrong, zombie-style.



Dr. Malcolm Reid goes out on his seismology expeditions alone, and he likes it that way. The fewer warm bodies he’s responsible for bringing home alive, the better.

When the mentorship of  a geology grad student is thrust upon him just as he’s leaving for Mexico’s Baja peninsula, he resigns himself to eight weeks of keeping her safe—from ATV-riding cattle rustlers, from a weather-worn mountain lion roaming the hills, and most of all from her accident-prone self.

Jenna Polaski has needed the canyon-sized chip on her shoulder to get ahead in the old boys’ education hierarchy. Now, needing samples to finish her thesis, she has no choice but to serve as the professor’s pack mule. And wonder if his limp is connected to rumors surrounding a long-ago incident that killed one of her predecessors.

Malcolm keeps a sharp eye out as they penetrate deep into the wilderness. But the one danger he forgets to watch for is the one that captures them both—an undeniable attraction that shatters all the rules.


Mal dropped both packs and walked close, leaning a hip against the vertical rock face. Holding her in his gaze, he tugged at his leather gloves, finally pulling them free and tucking them in his waistband.

“Do you recognize the stratigraphy?”

Her face fell. “Don’t you ever quit? I don’t want another geology lesson, Mal.”

He knew what she wanted, but pretended not to have heard the frustration in her voice. Mal traced a thin band of rust with his finger. “Notice the layering—”

“For God’s sake. Look around,” she said and waved her arms wide. “This place is amazing. Why does everything have to be about science?”

“That’s what we’re here for—”

“Why can’t we just relax and enjoy the rest of the day?”

“Just pal around? Be friends? Is that what you want, Jenna?” He took a half step closer, crowding her. “Or maybe you’d like me to whisper some more in your ear?”

He watched a slow crimson spread across her cheeks, and he regretted his words. So he hadn’t imagined her reaction back in the scrub. Exhaling, he focused his thoughts on his one comfort. Science.

“These are Cambrian units. This formation occurs in small pockets up and down Baja, but nothing quite like here.” He chanced a glance in her direction.

Her brown eyes had never seemed so large. Or so angry.

His chest tightened. “Do you recall the geologic timescale?”

With a shake of her head, she sighed. “The Cambrian is the oldest period of the Paleozoic era, and is generally agreed to have covered the time span between 570 and 500million years before present.”

Her rote answer grated. “Jenna.” Caution sharpened his voice.

In the quiet, he could hear her breathe. Shallow, rapid. He watched her chest rise and fall. The generous curve…

No. He swallowed hard. Think science.

But he couldn’t resist tweaking his lesson plan—just for her. “Imagine the swell of warm tides,” he said, “tumbling into shoals.”

A playful smile twitching her lips, she turned her gaze on him. “The swell of warm tides?”

He nodded. “Interwoven in the sandstone are some distinctive units like this one.” His forefinger picked at a thin maroon layer. Warmth flowed from the cliff wall into his palm. “Beautiful. So smooth—alive.”

“Alive?” Jenna reached out to touch the peach-colored sandstone, her skin blending with the rock. “These units are older than the dinosaurs.”

Mal hid a grin. “You’re correct, of course. But before creatures populated the land, the lush, tropical seas frothed with life.” He pointed to a sequence in the stratigraphy. “Relentless currents of nutrient-rich water ebbed and flowed over soft, fertile beds.”

She leaned against the cliff. “The sea floor must have teemed with plants.” Fire lit her eyes and she continued, “To withstand the powerful force of the tides, they must have had to sink their roots deep, driving them hard until they hit impenetrable rock…”

His heart thudded. “Exactly, Jenna. Colonies of flora and fauna lived, reproduced and died, always straining toward the hot Cambrian sun. For the first time in Earth’s history, predators appeared. They knew what they wanted and they went after it.”

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RLUgoliniR.L. Ugolini studied geology at the California Institute of Technology and has made maps for the US Geological Survey. She’s been in more earthquakes than she cares to remember, has hauled mountains of gear in Baja California and speaks very, very poor Spanish. She lives in San Antonio, Texas, with her husband.

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To learn more about R.L. Ugolini, please follow her on Twitter (@RLUgolini) and Goodreads


1 e-book copy of Quakes, selected at random from commenters posting questions to this blog post through midnight, Saturday, February 7th.