It's amazing how many of psychotherapist Fiore's patients--ten are examined here--have revealed under hypnosis to have had CEIVs, close encounters of the fourth kind. But then maybe not so amazing, given Fiore's former pastime of lying in her hot tub, ""delighting in the star-studded sky, occasionally sending messages, even 'pleas,' to our space brothers to make themselves visible or to give me a message."" In fact, under hypnosis Fiore has apparently learned that she ""had been contacted. I had been floated out of the bedroom in my condominium in Los Gatos into a spaceship."" But what Fiore experienced there--""respect and kindness""--is but a soft shadow of the often painful treatment that ""the visitors"" allegedly meted out to her patients. Their weird experiences--often unsuspected until dug out by Fiore, who explains that the patients came to her for complaints varying from depression to obesity--range from that of young bookkeeper Sandi, who talks of having needles and maybe worse shoved into her neck, navel, and rectum by the saucer people; to that of chubby artist Victoria, with eggs supposedly stolen from her body after ovulation; to that of James, an M.D., who, after having needles stuck in his nose and chest, he says, was reassured by an alien named Mogwan. And so on. Most of this comes out in reproduced transcripts of hypnotic-regression sessions led by Fiore, who, to her credit, asks few leading questions, allowing her patients to dredge up the oddest material with minimum encouragement. And for readers who begin to suspect their own submerged abduction memories, Fiore offers a guide to self-hypnosis along with an abduction questionnaire and a list of useful organizations and reading material. No match for Strieber's Communion or Budd Hopkins' Intruders in sophistication, slickness, or popular appeal; but there's plenty of wacky, semiraw material here for those intrigued by the UFO conundrum.