A radio nighttime disk jockey, evidently miffed when a bookstore didn't have a book he wanted, started plugging a book he knew they didn't have just to pester them, or so I suppose. He gave it the title and the author listed above, both imaginary. The public began to ask for it. Hearing of this demand, publisher Ian Ballantine had a story whipped up to match the title, and even dug out for the jacket a photo of the bogus author with a lock of hair over a wrinkled brow, a pair of half-round glasses and a faint mustache. I hope the radio man is willing to stand back of this book he has been recommending. Lance Captain Courtenay with the aid of looks, nerve, borrowed finery, wit and the legal lore of his mother sets out to make his way in the debauched Georgian English world of the late 18th century. Despite a couple of ingenious twists, there is one spot where the novel almost comes to a halt, and the loving is pretty sleazy.