‘Spice’ in literature
As you know, I write (and read) a range of ‘spice’ levels (for the innocent, ‘spice’ generally refers to sex, particularly in romantasy). Personally, it depends on the story for me. I completely understand that for some people, reading is a fun escape, a break from every day reality where they can shut off their thoughts for a while and relax. We all need those outlets, whether it’s reading simple but action-packed thrillers or uncomplicated spicy romance, watching trashy TV, or blowing up hordes of enemies in video games.
(I usually go for the latter option. The more explodey the projectiles or the bigger the hammer, the better. In gaming, size does matter.)
For me, reading is about engaging more deeply with the world, so I’m not usually looking for escapism in the books I read and therefore write. Physical intimacy, like food and fight scenes, have to earn their place in the story. They aren’t just there for enjoyment. Some stories need sex on the page to make sense, just as some stories need a fight scene or a character inhaling emotional support chocolate.
When sex matters
Three of my Cursed Princes stories have explicit sex scenes, for example. The Virtues of Kings does because it’s an arranged marriage, and we all know what happens on the wedding night. Add that the main character, Gabriel, struggles with PTSD and doesn’t want to share his bed (or more specifically, his trauma) with another person, and I’d be omitting an important part of the story if I skipped it.
Ridiculous I Love Yous, which is (or will soon be) available on my Patreon, features a rake who uses his sexuality to win people over and get his way. I initially didn’t have a sex scene between the main character and his love interest, but it felt emotionally wrong to leave that out after the main character had been more physically intimate on the page with someone else for nefarious plot reasons.
Finally, Of Kings and Fairies features a world-weary prince who desperately needs to learn to relax and let his guard down. Unfortunately his love interest isn’t the loquacious or emotional type, and the only way she knows how to do that is with physical release. In this instance, falling into bed (so to speak; it’s actually a rough tumble on some grass) is what starts their intimate relationship. There are also some complex dynamics going on regarding dominance and submission, and the MC learns a few things about himself and what it means to let go of his relentless control.

And when there are bigger, non-phallic things at stake
On the other hand, the Lightless Prophecy is a YA series, so it’s low-spice. Since Gabby is in her late teens and has her first serious boyfriend, you can bet she is doing it as the series goes on, but this is a story about magic and the world being wrong and Gabby figuring out who she is in the context of the universe and her entire life. It’s much bigger than any one moment with a cute boy, even if he is the self-proclaimed God of Lightning.
This is not to say that big, important moments don’t happen between the sheets – they absolutely do (insert pun about size if desired). But in Lightless, I wanted to explore a sense of identity and self-worth that is not tied up with being in a relationship – without removing romance as a core part of the story.
For some people, sex is a crucial part of their identity and self-expression, as it is for Patrice in Ridiculous I Love Yous. For others, it might be fun or it might not even be something they care about, but either way, they’re not having epiphanies while getting naked and sweaty. My intention is to read and write stories that express many different aspects of and views on life.
And sometimes it’s a mood thing. With that in mind, you can find spice levels for all my books on each series page.
