Charmagne knew she was screaming, but there was no sound in the horror truck. No echo. Nothing. Her hands were over her mouth, but she knew she was screaming. And then the Ragman showed her things.
This is a Third Doctor novel with some fairly gritty horror elements. It wasn't at all to my taste; the same author has also done a pretty violent Second Doctor novel, Combat Rock, where I felt it was just about justifiable given the colonial situation on which it was based. Here however I felt there was no such excuse; it's a story of a rock band taken over by an alien entity and spreading Evil around 1970s Britain (where, in a dystopian alternate universe, they have started showing Blankety Blank several years before it affected our time line), attempts at pastiche flopping miserably in several places and simply gratuitous. One of the rather few Who books I really wouldn't recommend to anyone.