It was with greatest of pleasure that I settled in to read this sweet and endearing novel of two young men learning to love and trust and play.
Spice is not a novel of high intrigue and fast-paced adventure nor a novel of villains and heroes on white steeds, no, Spice is something simpler, something gentler, something so very lovely: Spice is a genuine romance novel. I found such joy in watching the first flutterings of attraction, denial, and flirtation, followed by a charming and heart-warming story of two men falling in love, discovering each other’s hearts and bodies, learning to leave behind old hurts, and realizing that love can be so easy when you let it happen.
The novel is centred around Simon, who wants it all—passion, love, and the joy of knowing he is wanted, needed—and tries so hard to get it that he nearly misses it when it is right in front of him. As a romance and sex columnist, he can so easily see the way through others’ problems but, as is so often the case, he is a little less adept at fixing his own. Enter Benji, the gorgeous IT guy with just enough dorkiness to make him adorable, and whose easy charm slides under Simon’s skin, laying claim to his heart so quickly that it scares Simon, who has all but given up on happily ever after. The progression of their relationship was so natural that at times it felt a bit voyeuristic, or like a sweeter version of HBO’s Looking, and if I have any criticism of the novel it is that what little angst there is is easy dispatched… but really, life has so much angst already, who says my romance novels have to have it too? Besides, more importantly, what Spice did have was Walt, the pit bull. And quite honestly, it never hurts to have a dog as charismatic as Walt, enlivening the quiet moments and infusing the story with a real sense of humour and home.
This was a perfect book to curl up with by the fire on a quiet day off. Sweet, steamy, and endlessly charming.