For Your Eyes Only

1959 · Book · Ian Fleming

“The eyes behind the wide black rubber goggles were cold as flint. In the howling speed-turmoil of a B.S.A. M.20 doing seventy, they were the only quiet things in the hurtling flesh and metal. Protected by the glass of the goggles, they stared fixedly ahead from just above the centre of the handle-bars, and their dark unwavering focus was that of gun-muzzles. Below the goggles, the wind had got into the face through the mouth and had wrenched the lips back into a square grin that showed big tombstone teeth and strips of whitish gum. On both sides of the grin the cheeks had been blown out by the wind into pouches that fluttered slightly. To right and left of the hurtling face under the crash-helmet, the black gauntlets, broken-wristed at the controls, looked like the attacking paws of a big animal.”

"Bond watched her as she reached the edge of the tables and came up the aisle. It was hopeless. She was coming to meet someone—her lover. She was the sort of woman who always belongs to somebody else. What damnable luck! Before Bond could pull himself together, the girl had come up to his table and sat down. ‘I’m sorry I’m late. We’ve got to get moving at once. You’re wanted at the office.’ She added under her breath: ‘Crash dive.’" Sudden emergencies and beautiful girls who aren’t quite what they seem and are the stock-in-trade of James Bond. And when 007 is on the case there’s only one thing you can be sure of—the result will be thrilling. And whether he’s dealing with the assassination of a Cuban thug in America, the destruction of an international heroin ring, or sudden death in the Seychelles, Bond gets the job done. In his own suave and unmistakable style… by Ian Fleming