James Bond Novels & Stories

"Yeah. He's that singer...What's his name again...James I guess?" "JAMES AS IN JAMES BOND THE SINGER?" "Lower down your voice miss Jones," He whispers sternly eyeing the people around them. "Are you sure?" She widens her eyes, "Did you see it with your own eyes?" "Of course," He says being defensive, "She's openly cheating on me." "YOUR WIFE IS CHEATING ON YOU WITH JAMES BOND AND YOU SAW IT WITH YOUR OWN EYES NOW I NEED TO HELP YOU?"

I hopped in immediately he opened the passenger's door for me and loud music blasted from the stereo when we drove out of the Quarter. "There are some blood bags in the pigeon hole, have some and feed." He said with utmost concentration and refused to break eye contact from the road. His jean jacket went in the direction of the mild breeze and the sleeves were rolled up to elbow level to reveal his muscles each time they flexed. His brown hair remained tousled and it covered a part of his face. He looked like a spy sent out on a mission. A gorgeous supermodel spy that looked too hot for his role and would have female fans driven crazy and I wouldn't be surprised if male fans are beginning to

“That brat.” “He also confirmed we have a mole inside the organisation, but he hasn't identified the person yet. He's still tracing the localised data leak as we speak.” A genuine smile broke through James’s usually stoic expression. “What?” “Sir, I have to admit. I really admired him; he's the image of Ma'am Isabella. He got every single one of her spy and hacking genes.” “Shhh!” I snapped my hand up, pressing a finger directly in front of his lips, my gaze scanning the environment, ensuring none of the guards were within earshot.

Over to you, Archie Beaumont. The screen cut to the docks where the figure of Maxime Jameson stood before the world's press, his face covered in bruises, and a small trickle of blood appeared on his split lip. He was dishevelled and wet from the soft drizzle coming in from the sea; it did not distract from his stunning good looks. He looked like he had just stepped off a James Bond movie. Around him, armed guards in American Military uniforms stood like sentinels, their eyes constantly surveying the area.

I couldn’t afford to be wrong, but I also couldn’t afford to be blindsided. James gave a slight bow, a barely perceptible inclination of his head that spoke of years of loyalty and unwavering service. He moved swiftly toward the hallway, already pulling his phone from his pocket, his fingers dancing across the screen as he began the first call. He was a ghost in the machine, a master of anonymity, capable of weaving through the digital world undetected, uncovering secrets most would never dream existed. Efficient, discreet. That’s why I kept him. In a world built on lies and veiled intentions, James was a necessary shield, a silent guardian against the shadows that threatened to encroach.

The same obsessive eyes, the same predatory smile. And he wasn't alone. A woman stood beside him, holding a baby. She looked nervous, scared, like she didn't want to be there. The baby couldn't be more than a few months old, wrapped in a pink blanket. "That's him," Lily whispered. "I see him." "Who's the woman? Who's the baby?" "I don't know. But we're going to find out." James had spotted us looking at him. His smile widened, and he gave a small wave. Like he was greeting old friends instead of the people whose lives he'd tried to destroy.

"Beverly is Cipher—the top-tier hacker who can control missile processes. "From the very beginning, you've only kept her by your side because of her abilities, haven't you? That's why you allowed Evan to do as he pleased and to take Beverly away again and again. You never truly cared about her. James, I thought you'd at least be better than Evan." Rubbing his brows in exhaustion, James said in a calm, detached tone, "See Mr. Dawson out." Ramon, standing by the door, moved toward Kyle. Kyle's anger flared at James' nonchalant demeanor. He stepped forward and grabbed James by the collar.

He stops behind the counter, clasping his hands together. He's wearing a whole damn suit. White shirt, black suit, black tie. Like the secret service or John Wick. "Hello, sir. How may I help you?" He shoots us a professional smile. Blake nods towards the case, pointing out the necklace. "I want to see that necklace, if it wouldn't be too much trouble." His voice takes on that same upper class tone. I'm not gonna lie. It's kinda hot. Like, James Bond hot. "Of, course, sir." The sales clerk unlocks the case from the back. Blake takes the opportunity to kiss my temple.