My name is Jack Stewart. I live on a sailboat in the Caribbean. I’m what they call a single-hander, an odd ball, a guy who sails alone. It’s not that I don't like women, I do. I just like a different one in every port. Wait! does that sound sexist, I didn’t mean it to sound that way. It’s just that I was married to the finest woman who ever lived for twenty-three years. She’s gone now, cancer. I could never deal with all that pain again, so now all my relationships are like ships passing in the night.

I didn’t start writing till the love of my life passed. It seems like all of a sudden I had an urge to entertain, you know, to take my mind and the mind of others off the daily grind of ordinary living. I’m no Hemingway, no Mailer. I don’t write because I’ve got something important to say, or to educate, or to influence. I write to entertain, only to entertain. It’s enough. And if I help a person here or there to escape his pain or sorrow, or even if I just help someone wile away a boring afternoon, I’ll feel like I’ve done my job.

If you like one of my stories, feel free to email me at: jackstewart@bootlegpress.com and let me know. If, on the other hand, you don’t, well, e-mail me anyway. I answer all my messages.

The blast ricochets through the plane. A Bomb. Bill Broxton looks to the last row in first class, checks to see if the prime minister is safe. Broxton works for the DEA and his assignment is to protect the Prime Minister of Trinidad from an assassin’s bullet. Prime Minister Ramsingh has been shutting down the Salizar drug cartel’s money laundering operations in Trinidad and Attorney General George Chandee, who is secretly working with the drug lords, has hired Scorpion, a professional assassin to take him out. After a harrowing ride, the pilot lands the plane safely. The Scorpion’s first attempt on the prime minister has failed, but he will try again. And Broxton must stop him.

Julie Tanaka’s husband takes a job for a boatyard in Trinidad, delivering a yacht to California. The boat goes down, his body is washed up on the beach with pounds of cocaine and the DEA sends Bill Broxton to investigate. Julie is in Trinidad, living on board her own boat, when a process server representing the boatyard confronts her. They want to seize her sixty-foot sailboat for bills her husband had supposedly not paid, but she doesn’t believe them and sneaks the boat out of the country. Unknown to Julie, the owner of the boatyard has secreted hundreds of thousands of dollars of cocaine and cash in Julie’s boat, fiberglassing it into the hull and between the bulkheads. He wants the boat back with Julie dead and the only thing standing in his way is Bill Broxton.

A note about DIAMOND SKY and HURRICANE

Most of the writing DIAMOND SKY took place while I was anchored out at the Five Islands group, about four miles off the western coast of Trinidad in the Gulf of Paria. Every morning I would dingy over to "Great White Wonder", Ken and Vesta's great race boat and we'd work, argue, work and sometimes start drinking the rum and cokes Vesta made way before sundown.

I really wanted a Hurricane in the book, Ken did not, he wanted to incorporate some of the characters from his book DEAD RINGER and I didn't like that idea so much. My solution, write the story my way. So there are a heck of a lot of similarities between HURRICANE and DIAMOND SKY, some of the chapters are almost identical. But back then we didn't care, as we never, ever thought what we were writing would ever get published.

However, time moves and both books are out now. We sort of forgot about the problem, but a couple of reviewers picked up on it and so have a few readers. So I thought it a good idea to mention it here. There are many differences between these two books, but there are many similarities as well. I hope you enjoy them both.

Best regards,

Jack Stewart

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