Okay, so I've never actually read anything by H. P. Lovecraft and you would think, given the amount of pastiche, homage, and general critical reworking of the man that I go through, that I would either get around to it finally or be really confused by it. You'd be wrong.
Responses to Lovecraft are INFINITELY more delightful than the man himself and this book is no exception. It's a Sherlock story with a gloriously epic woman in the role of the detective, a sidekick who plays the straight man to her perfectly (despite not, of course, being in the least bit straight and I really really hope that the hints dropped about his husband are what I think they are), more madcap adventure than should really be allowed in one book, and lots of eldritch horror.
Also, Boulton did an excellent job as narrator and UTTERLY captured Wyndham (aka Watson)'s tone of voice and slight incredulity and appalled ness...but also interest and amusement at everything going on.
I had so much fun.
Why isn't there more?