Christmas in Bethel by Richard Paul Evans

 Beth has too many horrific memories, starting with a childhood of abuse from her mother and stepfather, continuing with images from her time working as a EMT and concluding with memories of an abusive marriage.  With no hope of happiness in sight, Beth considers suicide, but is brought out of her despair by a book called Bethel. She clings to the book and other books by the same author as a lifeline while she builds a life free of abuse. Then she gets to meet the author, J.D. Harper. Sparks fly between them and soon they are caught up in a glamorous romance of fancy dinners and national attention.  She can't bring herself to believe that someone like Harper could really love her because of her past and almost sabotages all they are building with each other. When she discovers that he is keeping secrets about his past as well, their tenuous relationship is stretched to a breaking point.

I keep telling myself I should never again read a romance by Richard Paul Evans, but one of the regular patrons of the library recommended this to me, so I put it on hold. It is marginally better than the other ones I have read, but it still suffers from the same problem that I have found objectionable in all of Evan's romances. In all his romances, the men shower the women with expensive gifts and exciting experiences. They have limitless money, stay in lavish hotels,  and live in perfect mansions. I find it insulting that a male author thinks that this is what all women want. It shows a really shallow view of women. That being said, this book is a little bit better because, in the end, Harper is at least as wounded by his past as Beth is by hers.  Still, I did a full eye role with Harper takes Beth to Tiffany's in New York and insists on buying her a $34,000 pearl necklace and earring set. REALLY?  If someone tried to give me a $34,000 piece of jewelry, I would run the other direction.  I guess some people like Evan's flavor of wish fulfillment fantasy because he sells a lot of books, but not I (272 p. 2024)