Dr. Shepard who wrote The Love Treatment last year now writes about his own while his head has nothing to do with the one attached to his shoulders. In fact the only person who appears here who seems to have one is an early agent who discouraged him from publishing this as pornography, and uninteresting at that. It all begins with his Joy-boy experiences on and off the beach one summer when he's still married to Eivor and living the kind of Encounter session he holds during a Massage-and-Meditation Weekend, or an Exploration-of-Sexuality marathon. In between as he explains to some young addicts he's guiding, he's ""going to preach to people. . . slip it in between the fucks and the sucks."" About the profession which blackballed him for his maverick methods and his new-now consciousness which he shares with Albert Ellis and Fritz Perls and his new-now happiness with Judy whom he expects to spend the rest of his life with. Mazeltov, Judy.