Mindbreaker in BOND UNKNOWN from April Moon Books

Preorders for Bond Unknown from April Moon Books are live.

https://www.aprilmoonbooks.com/bond-unknown

Bond Unknown pits Ian Fleming’s creation James Bond against threats from the Mythos of HP Lovecraft in two novelettes, Mindbreaker from yours truly, and Into The Green from Willie Meikle.

I’m an longtime fan of James Bond, dating back to reading my dad’s old water damaged Fleming paperbacks from college, and later, the movies, so when April Moon set out to hire authors to write in the original literary continuity, I jumped at the opportunity with both feet.

Although this is an unlicensed mashup and I recognize the concept may be inherently absurd to diehard fans, I feel compelled to stress that I approached this with as much diligence as I have my Zora Neale Hurston stories or any of my historical fantasy novels. My primary sources in this case were Fleming and Lovecraft, and I hope that I’ve written something aficionados of either writer will enjoy. I know this isn’t the first foray into unlicensed Bond fiction either, and that other publishers have offered wry, postmodern interpretations of the character. I have no interest in nor patience for ‘deconstructions’ of Fleming, and can’t think of a bigger waste of time than writing about something I don’t innately love….except maybe reading it.  The draw in this was for me was putting Fleming’s 1960’s era Bond in a situation he could never be in otherwise. All that said, it was a helluva lot of fun to write, probably the most fun I’ve had writing in a while, and I hope you’ll give it a read.

In my offering, Mindbreaker, a royal princess is kidnapped from her private school in the English countryside and 007 is seconded to a classified subsection of MI6, headed by the enigmatic D. He is ordered to Egypt to locate two missing field agents on an archaeological dig along the First Cataract of the Nile, but soon finds himself in a race across the Mediterranean to stop an ex-SMERSH double agent and a dark occult organization from using the blood of a royal to activate a long dormant antedulluvian weapon left over from the ancient conflict between two unimaginable ancient civilizations.  It’s a mission that will test Bond’s mind and body, and bring him into contact with old friends and new, terrifying enemies.

Here’s an excerpt – –

“You came recommended.”

“By whom?” said Bond. Surely not M.

“Simone Litrelle.”

Solitaire. Bond had long wondered what had become of her. He leaned forward in his chair.

“She’s not here, 007,” D. said, with a hint of amusement. “She is assigned to one of our forward divinatory stations.  She only half believed in her abilities when she was recruited, but O Section brought out her powers quite admirably.”

Bond blinked. Divinatory?

“In answer to your query, you were selected partly because you have a favorable birth sign. And your code number. 007. Did you know that 007 was how the celebrated magus and intelligence agent John Dee signed his secret correspondences to Queen Elizabeth? The double 0’s represented his eyes, which he dedicated to her. And seven. A very fortuitous number. A god number in ancient Egypt. Seven days, seven seas, seven heavens, in antiquity, seven planets.”

“Yes and seven sins,” Bond said. He shifted in his chair, frowning.

“There are no coincidences, Bond,” said D. evenly. “Prior events in your life, as well as events prior to your life have been ordered whether by human or preternatural design to place you into a unique confluence of destinies. Have you studied your family history closely, Bond? Did you know that John Dee’s daughter Madinia emigrated to France and herself had a daughter named Marie by one Charles Peliot, a privy maid to Queen Henrietta Maria?”

“What in the hell are you talking about?” Bond exclaimed. He was babbling like that book-rabid fellow at the College of Arms, Griffin Or.

D. leaned forward, his eyes fervent behind the lenses, fingers interlaced now, that damnable ring glinting in the lamplight.

“Lineage aside, Bond. The death of your parents when you were eleven, your expulsion from Eton, your education at Canterbury and Fettes, and Geneva, all uniquely qualifying you for acceptance in the Special Service.  Which brings us to your career thus far. Your encounter with agent Litrelle in New Orleans, her subsequent recruitment and suggestion of you for this mission; the little bits of esoteric wisdom you’ve unwittingly picked up over the years from your first secretary Loelia Ponsonby and your housekeeper. The death of your wife and your subsequent brush with mental collapse. Yet through your reconditioning at the hands of the Russians and your unlikely recovery, you have proven yourself possessing of a remarkable mind, both malleable and resilient. All of these things have led you here. You truly are a blunt instrument, yet I believe you can also be tuned for more delicate work if need be. I have on occasion required the service of men of your ilk. Other 00 agents have sat where you are. I’ve never seen any of them again.”

“What is this?” Bond said finally, gesturing to his surroundings. “What is all this?”

“For as many years as you have been privy to the secrets of crown and country,” said D., “did you never suspect there were secrets even you, even your beloved M., weren’t told? Section O has existed in its present form since 1940, when my father convinced British intelligence that the war, like other wars before it, was being fought on multiple planes of perception, not only with modern technology, but with ancient tools which man has utilized since first he heard the word of God through His angels, and was tempted away by darker, older powers.  This is Occult Section, Bond. 00 fights in the shadows. O fights the shadows themselves.”

Bond smirked and rose from his chair. He badly needed a cigarette.

“Ridiculous,” he chuckled.

“Orbis non sufficit.”

“What?” Bond started.

“The World Is Not Enough. There are world within worlds, Bond. Can you peer outside this one? Will you shrink from what you see? I wonder….”