I can't say this didn't have it moments, because it certainly did. But if you cut those from the narrative, what remains is so horribly uninteresting, just mere verbiage, not even qualifying as filler. The haunted house is a tough concept to do well, talent of the writer notwithstanding. There is so little to work with it takes a masterful touch to use the tropes - which must be used - but to use them effectively. Everyone knows it can be done because it has, though not often. For 75% of this book - minus a few scenes - we get fuckall. Booth comes across as a functionary, or maybe merely a functioning archivist? Surely nothing more. I love that he loves books, but that aspect of the tale always felt like fluff, since the facts Booth's work uncovers are never prevailed upon, just secreted, or maybe more accurately sued as a plot device (one amateurishly used, at best). Dumb. What is truly going on doesn't arrive until I nearly DNF-ed, and more than once, but with only 25% to go I decided to trudge to the finish. The truth of the house, and our enigmatic attendees, is intriguing, but so rushed it falls flat. Sadly, I sense another "Booth Tale" to provide some closure, or another flimsy tangent?, and also to try fleshing out some poorly drawn characters elided here. If it tops out at this book's length, I'll likely give it a go. Because completists do that.
One major annoyance, which had me mentally gritting my teeth constantly, was Booth's repeated use of the word "er" when he spoke. Besides it sounding ridiculous AND looking even more idiotic in print, I would argue it was superfluous at best, needless at worst. Hesitance, reluctance, nervousness, or deference in speech/conversation is hardly odd, but no part of Booth's personality would lead us to believe he would speak this way. I found it absolutely maddening. Like murderously so.