It's difficult to know where to begin, but let's just say that if the object is to follow in Ian Fleming's footsteps, this fails, miserably. The main problem is that the character of James Bond has lost all his old certainty, strength and invulnerability; his character now better befits that of the policeman I see wandering up and down my road from time to time, and while I'm sure he's a great bloke, he's not the sort of escapist character I want to seek refuge in. The other big problem is that the emotions expressed are all incredibly naive, and, well, teen-like, particularly with regard to the relationship between Bond and Flicka; these are supposed to be mature secret agents who have lived a little, not high school students on a first date! Some of the writing is also way too obvious; Gardner will say something like 'Bond drank his vodka Martini. He liked vodka Martinis you see.' He doesn't actually write that, but you get my drift. I hope against all hope that John Gardner reads this; if he does, I would ask him to re-read any of the Ian Fleming Bond books, carefully; all the cues he needs, those that made the books such incredibly good reads, are there on the pages before him.