Amazing how those pesky demons get into everything. And when you find your home, town, or teen-ager infested by the little dickens, who you gonna call? Why the demon-busting Warrens of course--just like the harried souls chronicled in this puffball of a memoir. Not all the people highlighted here tangled with demons, however. The chapter entitled ""Case File: Jane Seymour,"" for example, tells how Lorraine Warren once met Seymour in Hollywood, then ran into her years later at Heathrow Airport; but the ""disturbed"" house the chapter deals with has nothing to do with Seymour. Not to worry, though; a bit later, the authors discuss ""The case of The Devil in Connecticut""--which, they claim, ""dominated worldwide headlines for several months."" Like the book's 16 other cases--all prefaced by Ed Warren, wife Lorraine, or coauthor Chase; half sketchily told in Q&A format, half in straight narrative--this one, that of a boy killer who claimed demonic possession as his defense, is presented with zero documentation or corroboration, and astounding naivetâ€š--or cynicism: ""Q: Then nobody really escapes possession completely? Ed: Oh, no. (Sighs) It changes your life in ways most people can't imagine."" But imagine this: Lorraine--who claims psychic powers--tapping into the mind of a Bigfoot; Lorraine reliving two murders, helping cops to solve the crimes; Ed and Lorraine confronting a lost soul who's not only a necrophiliac, but who watches dirty movies (""Sometimes when we commit a sin that's particularly bad, we invite demons into our lives,"" Ed tells him); Ed and Lorraine waxing sentimentally spooky about a ghost town in Conn.: just a bit of the nasty fluff stuffed within these dull, sorry pages. Hocus-pocus hokum, pawned off with neither style nor credibility.