If you’ve been around these parts for a while, then you already know I’m a huge fan of Sarah Kuhn’s Heroine Complex series. If you’re new to the Roarbots family, well, see previous and you have been so informed.

I was so bummed when the third book, Heroine’s Journey came out – not because it wasn’t phenomenal (it was) but because it was the final book of the trilogy and there weren’t scheduled to be any additional Heroine stories at that time.

Luck is with us, however, and Kuhn has discovered she has more stories in that universe to tell, including the recent novella Unsung Heroine (July 2nd, DAW), which focuses on Team Jupiter/Takana’s ever-stylish karaoke/weapons mistress and fight trainer Lucy Valdez.

For the uninitiated, the basics of the world in which the series takes place are thus: a portal to a demon realm opened in San Francisco. It did eventually close but left behind residual demon energy that creates chaos on a regular basis and superpowers such as telekinesis, pyrokinesis, and empathy/emotion manipulation in a certain percentage of the population. Some of the folks with superpowers use them for nefarious purpose. Others, like Aveda Jupiter (aka Annie Chang) and Evie Tanaka, use them to battle the demons (and nefarious people) who attempt to wreak havoc on San Francisco on the regular.

Lucy doesn’t have powers. She doesn’t need them. She can kill anyone, and anything, with the heel of her shoe or one of the knives strapped to her thigh, which is why team Jupiter/Tanaka looks to her for their fight training. She’s also karaoke queen of the Gutter, the team’s local dive bar. But when her crown is challenged, the Gutter seemingly cursed, and her crush distracted, what’s a fabulous girl to do?

One of my favorite things about Kuhn’s books is her ability to write multilayered characters who, though they are ass-kicking and powerful, are also – like so many of us – insecure, softer, and well… yearning beneath the calloused shell we’ve built around us to keep safe from the world. So many of us are afraid the person we love won’t love us back or the person we’re with doesn’t really. We’re afraid that there won’t be someone to take care of us when we need it, that no one will be there when we crawl out of that shell when it gets too heavy to carry, or that there’s no one we can trust to remember we’re no less tough without it but that we were more than one thing all along.

I loved seeing this part of Lucy who, while always there with a shoulder for her friends, hasn’t let us see inside of her own shell before.

I’ve also always loved that Kuhn shows us different kinds of romantic relationships in her books: there’s Evie and Nate who, despite his being half-demon, have a relatively traditional marriage in which they balance each other perfectly; Aveda and Scott, childhood friends who have less in common as adults but find love in each other despite their differences; Bea, who’s bi or pan and still figuring out exactly what she wants in a partner; and Lucy, a lesbian, who knows exactly what – and who – she wants but is terrified Rose (more restrained and by the book) won’t feel the same way.

As long as there’s love and respect, there’s no wrong way to do coupledom, and I adore that Kuhn’s found hero family is so welcoming and accepting and encouraging of one another. That though they interfere and push and bicker, it all comes from a place of caring and wanting each member of the family to find their bliss with the person who completes them.

The other, entirely charming, aspect to these books that always keeps me coming back for more is, between the fantastic fight scenes and action sequences, are delightful “what superheroes do on their time off” moments reminiscent of Matt Fraction and David Aja’s Hawkeye: My Life as a Weapon. These moments, done well as they are in both that comic and Kuhn’s books are truly one of the best things that ever happened to superhero stories – not so much because of the “heroes are just like you and me” piece, though that is, of course, wonderful, but because it paces the narrative in a manner missing from most cape-and-tights stories and creates characters readers actually care about.

When Wolverine dies, everyone throws up their hands and dismisses the moment as a publicity stunt, forgetting about him until his inevitable return. If Lucy or another member of the team dies, I’d be devastated. I care about these characters in a way I don’t about most comic characters these days and that is due, entirely, to Kuhn’s writing.

The series, thus far, is Heroine Complex, Heroine Worship, Heroine’s Journey, and Unsung Heroine. There’s a new trilogy based in the Heroine world forthcoming and even though there aren’t any details, I’m super excited.