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![The Cuban Affair: A Novel by [Nelson DeMille]](https://m.media-amazon.com/images/I/51UMRtscYEL._SY346_.jpg)
The Cuban Affair: A Novel Kindle Edition
Nelson DeMille (Author) Find all the books, read about the author, and more. See search results for this author |
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Daniel “Mac” Graham MacCormick seems to have a pretty good life. At age thirty-five he’s living in Key West, owner of a forty-two-foot charter fishing boat The Maine. But after serving five years in the Army and purchasing a boat with a big bank loan, Mac’s finances are more than a little shaky.
One day, Mac is sitting in the famous Green Parrot Bar, contemplating his life, and waiting for Carlos, a hotshot Miami lawyer heavily involved with anti-Castro groups. Carlos wants to hire Mac and The Maine for a ten-day fishing tournament to Cuba at the standard rate, but Mac suspects there is more to this and turns it down. The price then goes up to two million dollars, and Mac agrees to hear the deal, and meet Carlos’s clients—a beautiful Cuban-American woman named Sara Ortega, and a mysterious older Cuban exile, Eduardo Valazquez.
What Mac learns is that there is sixty million American dollars hidden in Cuba by Sara’s grandfather when he fled Castro’s revolution. With the “Cuban Thaw” underway between Havana and Washington, Carlos, Eduardo, and Sara know it’s only a matter of time before someone finds the stash—by accident or on purpose. And Mac knows if he accepts this job, he’ll walk away rich…or not at all.
- LanguageEnglish
- PublisherSimon & Schuster
- Publication dateSeptember 19, 2017
- File size2581 KB
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Editorial Reviews
Review
“[An] action-packed, relentlessly paced thriller… A line from the novel perfectly describes this page-turner: ‘Sex, money, and adventure. Does it get any better than that?’”
—Publishers Weekly (starred review)
“DeMille's latest is a timely stay-up-all-night, nail-biting page-turner featuring his iconic tongue-in-cheek, articulate, rhythmic narrative. His affably irreverent protagonist, fantastic believable supporting characters, and tense, realistic Cuba-set scenes including some jaw-dropping revelations make this a must-read for his many fans.”
—Library Journal (starred review)
“The thriller charts a satisfying course. A good day's work from an old pro.”
—Kirkus Reviews
"This is powerful, mythic stuff, like Confederate gold and Nazi treasure...As the true nature of the charter-boat owner’s job becomes clear and the betrayals begin, DeMille mounts a long, magnificent sequence with boat chases, helicopter rescues, and tracer fire. They’re all described in that visceral style the author has mastered."
—Booklist
"This book has that incredible wit that Nelson DeMille has, and nobody writes characters like Nelson does."
—Tampa Bay Times
“Nelson DeMille has outdone himself. I thought that Plum Island was one of my favorite thrillers of all time, but I was wrong—DeMille is always going up a gear and The Cuban Affair is going to be one of the top ten thrillers of the year.”
—Strand Magazine
About the Author
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
CHAPTER 1
I was standing at the bar in the Green Parrot, waiting for a guy named Carlos from Miami who’d called my cell a few days ago and said he might have a job for me.
Carlos did not give me his last name, but he had ID’d himself as a Cuban American. I don’t know why I needed to know that, but I told him I was Scots-Irish-English American, in case he was wondering.
My name is Daniel Graham MacCormick—Mac for short—age thirty-five, and I’ve been described as tall, tan, and ruggedly handsome. This comes from the gay clientele in the Parrot, but I’ll take it. I live here on the island of Key West, and I am the owner and skipper of a 42-foot deep-sea fishing charter boat called The Maine, named for my home state—not for the American battleship that blew up in Havana Harbor, though some people think that.
I usually book my charters by phone, and most of my customers are repeats or referrals, or they checked out my website. The party just shows up fifteen minutes before sailing, and off we go for marlin, sailfish, tuna, sharks, or whatever. Or maybe the customer wants a sightseeing cruise. Now and then I get a fishing tournament or a romantic sunset cruise. Whatever the customer wants. As long as it’s legal.
But this guy, Carlos, wanted to meet first, coming all the way down from Miami, and he sounded a bit cryptic, making me think we weren’t talking about fishing.
The barmaid, Amber, inquired, “Ready for another?”
“Hold the lime.”
Amber popped another Corona and stuck a lime wedge in the neck. “Lime’s on me.”
Amber is pretty but getting a little hard behind the bar. Like nearly everyone here in what we call the Conch Republic, she’s from someplace else, and she has a story.
I, too, am from someplace else—Maine, as I said, specifically Portland, which is directly connected to Key West by U.S. Highway One, or by a cruise up the coast, but Portland is as far from here as Pluto is from the sun. FYI, I spent five years in the U.S. Army as an infantry officer and got blown up in Afghanistan. That’s the short story of how I wound up here. The long story is a long story, and no one in Key West wants to hear long stories.
It was about 5 P.M., give or take an hour. The citizens of the Conch Republic are not into clocks, which is why they’re here. We’re on sun time. Also, we have officially seceded from the United States, so we are all expats. I actually have a rainbow-hued Conch Republic passport, issued by the self-appointed Secretary General of the Republic, a guy named Larry who has a small office over on Angela Street. The passport was a gag gift from my first mate, Jack Colby, who like me is an Army vet. Jack got screwed up in ’Nam, and he’s still screwed up but in an old-guy sort of way, so my customers think he’s just grumpy, not crazy. His favorite T-shirt says: “Guns Don’t Kill People. I Kill People.” Maybe he is crazy.
I wasn’t sure of the time, but I was sure of the month—October. End of hurricane season, so business was picking up.
Amber, who was wearing a tank top, was sipping a black coffee, surveying the crowd. The Green Parrot’s regular clientele are eclectic and eccentric and mostly barefoot. The owner, Pat, is a bit crazy himself, and he tells the tourists that the parachute hanging on the ceiling is weighed down with termite turds.
Amber asked, “How’s business?”
“Summer was okay. September sucked. Picking up.”
“You were going to take me for a sail in September.”
“I did a lot of maintenance on the boat.”
“I thought you were going to sail to Maine.”
“I thought so, too.”
“If you ever go, let me know.”
“You’ll need a sweater.”
A customer called for another and Amber moved off.
I’ve never actually slept with Amber, but we did go skinny-dipping once off Fort Zachary Taylor. She has a butterfly tattoo on her butt.
The place was starting to fill up and I exchanged greetings with a few people. Freaks, geeks, loveable weirdos, and a few Hemingway look-alikes. He used to live here, and you can see his house for ten bucks. You can see mine for free. Bring a six-pack. Anyway, Key West’s official motto is “One Human Family.” Well, they haven’t met my family. And they haven’t been to Afghanistan to see the rest of the human family. Or, like Jack, to Vietnam. Or if they have, they’re here, like me and Jack, to float in a sea of alcohol-induced amnesia. I’ve been here four years. Five is enough to forget why you came here. After that, you’re not going home.
But, hey, it could be worse. This is paradise. Better than two tours in Allfuckedupistan. Better than freezing my ass off in Maine. And definitely better than 23 Wall Street, where I worked for a year after graduating from Bowdoin College. If I’d stayed with Hamlin Equities I’d now be dead from boredom.
Instead, I was captain of The Maine, and a former captain of infantry with a fifty percent combat disability and a quarter-million-dollar bank loan on my boat. The fifty percent disability is for pay purposes and I have no physical limitations except for housecleaning. The bank loan is a hundred percent pain in the ass.
But when I’m out there on the sea, especially at night, I am free. I am captain of my own fate.
Which was why I agreed to meet Carlos the Cuban, who was not interested in fishing. That much I understood from our short phone conversation. And I wouldn’t be the first sea captain who got involved with these people.
Well, I’d listen and see if I could make an intelligent decision—like I did when I left Wall Street and joined the Army for adventure. How’d that work out, Mac?
Being captain of your own fate doesn’t mean you always make good decisions.
--This text refers to the paperback edition.
Product details
- ASIN : B071R25VXH
- Publisher : Simon & Schuster; Reissue edition (September 19, 2017)
- Publication date : September 19, 2017
- Language : English
- File size : 2581 KB
- Text-to-Speech : Enabled
- Screen Reader : Supported
- Enhanced typesetting : Enabled
- X-Ray : Enabled
- Word Wise : Enabled
- Print length : 444 pages
- Lending : Not Enabled
- Best Sellers Rank: #51,138 in Kindle Store (See Top 100 in Kindle Store)
- #2,199 in Crime Thrillers (Kindle Store)
- #3,842 in American Literature (Kindle Store)
- #5,259 in Suspense (Kindle Store)
- Customer Reviews:
About the author

Nelson Richard DeMille was born in New York City on August 23, 1943 to Huron and Antonia (Panzera) DeMille, then moved with his parents to Long Island. He graduated from Elmont Memorial High School, where he played football and ran track.
DeMille spent three years at Hofstra University, then joined the Army where he attended Officer Candidate School and was commissioned a Lieutenant in the United States Army (1966-69). He saw action in Vietnam as an infantry platoon leader with the First Cavalry Division and was decorated with the Air Medal, Bronze Star, and the Vietnamese Cross of Gallantry.
After his discharge, DeMille returned to Hofstra University where he received his bachelor’s degree in Political Science and History. He has three children, Lauren, Alexander, and James, and resides on Long Island.
DeMille's first major novel was By the Rivers of Babylon, published in 1978, and is still in print as are all his succeeding novels. He is a member of American Mensa, The Authors Guild, and is past president of the Mystery Writers of America. He is also a member of International Thriller Writers and was chosen as ThrillerMaster of the Year 2015. He holds three honorary doctorates: Doctor of Humane Letters from Hofstra University, Doctor of Literature from Long Island University, and Doctor of Humane Letters from Dowling College.
Nelson DeMille is the author of: By the Rivers of Babylon, Cathedral, The Talbot Odyssey, Word of Honor, The Charm School, The Gold Coast, The General's Daughter, Spencerville, Plum Island, The Lion's Game, Up Country, Night Fall, Wild Fire, The Gate House, The Lion, The Panther, The Quest, Radiant Angel, The Cuban Affair and The Deserter. He also co-authored Mayday with Thomas Block and has contributed short stories to anthologies, and book reviews and articles to magazines and newspapers.
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Reviewed in the United States on March 25, 2019
Top reviews from the United States
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Unfortunately, the action resembles more a spaghetti western than the exciting Corey novels. But if you believe a few invaders can outwit and outrun the nasty Communists, this may be for you. Especially if you think the way to go into battle against a superior force of trained soldiers is to first take a few shots of rum on an empty stomach,and follow them with a couple of beers and some sex on the beach. Sounds good, but not really advised. Daniel Silva provides more realistic and thoughtful international adventure in his novels.
The main character utterly lacks substance. His back story is flimsy and his continued “sotto voce” sarcasm starts to build to a “I am John Corey’s love child” crescendo towards the end. Not to mention Sara Ortega, who is as believable as a sitcom extra.
Mr De Mille, you obviously have a very loyal fan base, just aching to see another well developed plot and some fresh characters. I do hope you can write another true best seller, before I really do give up...
Top reviews from other countries


A low point in an otherwise entertaining and satisfying literary career.


