Bond fans are in a slump. Simple as that. We are stuck waiting for a new film, or a new book, and little progress seems to be being made on either front. New product collaborations from EON and the official 007 Store, and rough, politically motivated reads like Charlie Higson’s On His Majesty’s Secret Service are hardly enough to keep things cruising along, and while we have so much brilliant content to thrive on, so many are frustrated, tired and looking for something new to stimulate them in this time of uncertainty.

The difficult thing, of course, is finding an author or series that connects with us on a deep level like Fleming’s writing, and cinematography that excites like EON’s efforts. Over the 70 years of Bond’s history, there have been ample authors and screenwriters who have done their absolute best to capture that magic, but so often because their work is primarily meant to exist in that same vein, they often pale against Bond, or draw too many comparisons to be celebrated adequately on their own. That’s why as a passionate fan of Fleming and James Bond, I’ve found myself so immersed in the world of Jack Carr.