I dislike the term “high fantasy” since it’s so easily taken to imply that it’s the superior form. My fantasy work takes place in worlds of my own creation.
For ten years, since she fled from the College where the magically gifted are taught, Kisea has been living on the run, concealing her unusual and frightening telepathic gift. Only her sorcerer ex-lover Matt knows, and has been looking for her. When his cousin is kidnapped, matters quickly grow even more complex.
A human shaman and healer returns from several years with the mysterious shyani, accompanied by her shapeshifting puma best friend. A valued friend, from her previous identity as a male student physician, has acquired an old shyani book, and extremists will not tolerate its presence in human hands. But back in human lands, the question arises: which world does she belong in?
Moonblood is not so much a coherent novel as a series of adventures in another world involving the same gradually-increasing group of semi-immortal characters, chosen by one of the five moons and gaining new strengths and vulnerabilities. While it does begin with at least a loose arc, where will it ultimately go? I have no idea.