There is quite a bit here that is derivative if you've read the original books she cites that were written by the people who knew Bundy and worked with him while he was alive.
There are nuggets here I hadn't heard before -- like the inference that Ted Bundy did the Dobson interview because Dobson had promised something to Carol Boone after his death and some other small details I either didn't know or that I may have read and forgotten.
She brings up the "knife incident" at least three times -- this being the time when Ted was three and he slipped butcher knives under the sheets of his young aunt's bed. Many authors bring up this incident to show that Bundy's "issues" manifested themselves from a very young age. (He wanted to scare her.) But personally, I never put much stock into that story. I remember as a child, doing things that adults misunderstood and ascribed bad intentions to when really I was just indulging some elaborate imaginary story I had conjured. I can remember feeling so hurt, and thinking, "but that's not what I meant!" But being unable to defend myself because I was too young.
Since this book was published we have gotten definitive DNA proof that Sam Cowell was not Ted Bundy's father. So fortunately that can be put to rest.
The reason I delayed reading this book for so long is because I didn't want to read an account where the author aggressively hammered that Ted Bundy killed Ann Marie Burr. Fortunately the author's tone was much more measured.
I've always believed, along with Bob Keppel, that Bundy did not kill Ann Marie Burr. As Bundy was apparently afraid of -- he has seemingly been suspected, if not outright accused of every murder, abduction, and attempted abduction, and missing person case that happened in his lifetime, all across the country.
The example that comes to mind immediately is the murder of Katherine Devine. Ann Rule eagerly listed her as one of Bundy's victims in "The Stranger Beside Me," but DNA evidence eventually led to another man. When Bundy was asked about Devine, he denied killing her. So I always had the impression he was being straightforward about who he had actually killed. (The other side of that argument was that he wouldn't admit to killing a kid that young because he feared retaliation if his life was spared. But then he admitted to drowning young Lynette Culver in Idaho so...?)
What I got out of my initial blitz read of Bundy books back in the 90s was that there were a whole lot of people making money, and careers off Bundy. Bundy was very, very bad, but was signing his death warrant so you could look tough on crime and win re-election or win a senate seat an unbiased act? Ann Rule made an entire career and got rich exploiting the tragedies of other people, was this morally neutral? In spite of the fact that people celebrated his death, Americans are continuing to make podcasts, write books, and make movies and documentaries about him for the simple fact that he makes them money, and he fascinate us still. Morris makes references to the police tactics of the principle investigators of Ann Burr's disappearance, and I had the thought, "I wonder how many innocent people they bullied or beat into a confession and a long prison sentence because they thought they were infallable?" And Dobson well--my utter loathing for Dobson was echoed by many when he died earlier this year.
What this book did do for me was to remind me of what the Burr family went through, and the toll it took on every member of the family. Knowing the case was never solved drained away any of the dramatic tension. Some members of the family sort of disappeared from the narrative, which made me wonder why. The adoption of the replacement baby was new information to me, and kind of took me aback.
I don't believe Ted Bundy was mentally ill, either with DID or manic-depression. I believe what Ted told Bill Hagmaier, "I just liked to kill. I wanted to kill." I can admit that my continued interest in Bundy probably stems from the fact that as a young woman, I identified with him far more than with the pretty, socially adept, well-off, popular, sorority girls that he killed.