I shared the first excerpt from Being Green, the short story available exclusively to newsletter subscribers last week.
You can read that excerpt here: http://tasteofcyn.com/2015/11/23/first-excerpt-from-being-green/
Here is the second excerpt
She was beautiful, her face round and tanned a warm golden hue, her lips as red as Windy’s petals, her hair as brown as his plant’s soil, and her eyes—
Her eyes are green. Zip’s transmission was edged with wonder. I didn’t know humans could have eyes that color.
They’re the shade of newly formed leaves. Green gazed at his female, enthralled, yearning to touch her, to determine if her cheeks were as soft as they appeared.
She gazed around the chamber. “You’re not physically here.” Lines appeared between her eyebrows. “But I hear your voice…I think.” Her laughter flowed into Green’s soul and settled deep in his core. “I could be hallucinating. I’ve been alone for so long.”
He heard the yearning for companionship in her voice. “The hailing frequencies are open.”
“Oh shit. Did I forget to turn them off?” She scrambled off the sleeping support. The thin, faded, sleeveless chest covering and skimpy ass covering she wore barely contained her jiggling curves.
Green didn’t know where to look, every view of her stirring his lust. His shaft pressed against the fabric of his flight suit. His balls ached. He wanted this female, more than he’d ever wanted any thing, any being.
She slapped her hands along storage compartments. Her fingers were intriguingly calloused and creased with tiny silver scars. “The communicator is around here somewhere. I know it is.”
Was she seeking to turn it off? “I require your assistance, my female. Windy, my plant, is damaged.” And he wanted to talk with his little botanist, to look at her some more.
“My name is Doctor Shelby Cooper, not your female.” She moved a plant container, looked behind it. “And I have been helping you, haven’t I? I gave you general plant care tips. There’s no need to speak to me directly.”
There was every need to speak to her. “If you saw Windy, you might have additional insights.”
She paused. Her head tilted, her curls shifting on her shoulders, the tendrils long and tangled. “That’s true, I might, and you’ve already contacted me.” Her patting of storage compartments resumed. “But to see Windy, I first have to find the communicator.”
“It’s located one row up, three columns to your right,” he directed, trusting her to continue their conversation.
The female’s chambers are a mess. Barrel wasn’t as amused as Green was by her disorganization. Why does she require so many containers?
My female has no means of replacing them if she discards them. He understood her thought processes. His female had little access to external resources.
She isn’t your female.
She is. She’s mine. Green rumbled his claim.
You can’t be certain of that, not yet. Barrel pushed back.
I’m as certain about Shelby as Rage was about Joan. The C Model cyborg had met Joan and had immediately known that the human female belonged to him.
Green felt the same way about his botanist.
Shelby was his.
He had to impress her, but how? Rage had earned Joan’s love by killing for her. According to Shelby’s own reports in scientific journals, there were no other beings on the small, unknown planet she inhabited, no enemies for Green to battle.
“There you are.” She retrieved the communicator, setting it before her, at eye level. “You’re a…” Her lush lips rounded. “No, this must be a mistake. You can’t be Green. You’re a cyborg.”
“I am Green.” Did his female have an issue with cyborgs? Many humans did, viewing them as machines, not living beings capable of free thought and emotions.
“You’re contacting me about your plant.” She grabbed her personal viewscreen and scrolled through the data. “Yes, you want to repair her. Repair.” She blew out her breath. “That does sound like something a cyborg would say, but how does that make any sense?” She spoke to herself, not requiring a reply. “Cyborgs kill beings. They’re warriors, trampling fragile ecosystems under their big boots.”
Green gazed down at his big black boots. He’d done his share of trampling. “We also care for beings. We love them, with everything we have.” His attention returned to the female he was destined to love. “And we’d do anything for them.”
Including violate hailing protocols, Zip quipped.
“You’re a violent being and I don’t like violence.” Shelby’s fingers trembled. “Not at all.”
“I don’t like violence either.” Green processed that he was an abnormality. Cyborgs were designed to fight, the desire to kill programmed into many of them. “But before I escaped the Humanoid Alliance’s control, I had little choice. Either I killed or I was killed.”
His Shelby frowned, appearing adorably fierce. “That’s not right. No being should be forced to kill.”
“Many humans don’t consider cyborgs to be beings.”
She nibbled on her bottom lip, her thoughts and emotions easy to read. His little female felt outrage on his behalf, then intrigue, then understanding of his predicament. “Some humans don’t value plants either.”
“I value my plant.” Windy meant the worlds to him. “I’m risking my existence to speak with you. If the Humanoid Alliance realizes a cyborg is free–”
“How would they realize that? I won’t tell them.” His Shelby stared at him.
Green held her gaze. What was she saying? Would she help him, help Windy?
“Did you finally determine what your plant’s species was?” She would help them. “My expertise is ancient Earth botany. If it doesn’t fall into that area, I can’t help you.”
Green grinned, his female’s prissiness amusing him. “This is Windy.” He set his plant on his lap. “Her previous models came from Earth.” That was Zip’s hypothesis.
“Hmmm…” Shelby leaned forward, her beautiful face filling the screen. “Can you turn the container for me?”
He complied.
The thought lines between her eyebrows captivated him. Cyborgs were taught to hide their feelings. His little human didn’t have that training, all of her emotions written on her countenance.
“It appears to be a species of poppy.”
“She,” he corrected.
“She.” Her gaze flicked to him, then back down at his plant. “Some beings consider poppies to be weeds. They spread with the early explorers to other planets, have completely taken over at least two that I know of, strangling the native vegetation.”
Green’s amusement faded. He loved Windy and wanted his Shelby to love her also. “Do you consider poppies to be weeds?”
“Of course not,” she replied indignantly. “Poppies are an important part of an ecosystem, and are beautiful, when healthy.” Her disapproving tone straightened his spine. “They are historically important. Poppies were once the symbol of war, of loss on the battlefield.” Her lips twisted. “It’s appropriate that you, as a warrior, would be drawn to it…to her.”
Green exchanged glances with Barrel and Zip. They didn’t have to transmit their insights. He knew what they were processing—Windy was destined to be his.
As Shelby was.
“But poppies are common.” She stacked three similarly shaped empty plant containers, one on top of the other, saving much needed space. “It kills me as a plant lover to say this, but it might be more efficient for you to discard your plant, to replace it, her, with a healthy version.”
She advised that he discard Windy, simply because she was damaged? “There’s no replacing Windy. She’s unique.”
“Physically, she’s not unique.”
“That might be true.” Although Zip had never seen another plant exactly like her, not in all of the databases he’d searched. And, during their escape from the Humanoid Alliance, Windy had survived a short venture into open space, a feat he understood was near impossible. “But emotionally, she’s irreplaceable to me,” Green shared. “She saved me.”
“She’s a poppy. She has very few natural defenses. How could she save you, a big strong warrior?” His Shelby narrowed her eyes, her disbelief tangible.
Green hesitated. If he shared the truth, revealing his weakness and his shame, he could lose his female, lose her respect, her love and any opportunity to breed with her.
But if he didn’t risk this, she’d never appreciate Windy’s importance to him or understand what he’d been through. His female wouldn’t truly know him.
He had to tell her all of it, the good and the bad.
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Green, a cyborg warrior, cares for one being—his plant Windy. When Windy becomes sick, he’ll do anything to heal her, even venture across the universe to visit a worlds-renowned plant doctor.
He doesn’t expect to find love.
Doctor Shelby Cooper is the sole resident of a tiny planet. She prefers to be alone rather than risk caring for another being and then losing him. The curvaceous scientist is determined to resist Green’s patient caresses, his thought-burning kisses, his slow seduction.
She has underestimated the power of a cyborg’s passion.
