Meet Christina Saunders author of Bad Bitch.
Christina Saunders is an Alabama girl who loves to tell stories that are always hot and sometimes dark. In addition to being an unrepentant book hoarder, she has a particular affinity for dirty jokes and foul mouths. She lives with her husband and two sassy daughters, who put up with her antics and outlandish writing habits. She's also indie-pubbed under the pseudonym Celia Aaron.
First, thanks for reading and reviewing! Second, thanks for letting me come ramble for a minute on your blog. The Bad Bitch Series is near and dear to my heart. Though I'm a full time writer now (as Christina Saunders and also under my pen name, Celia Aaron), I was an attorney for several years before following my writing dream. I served as a prosecutor right out of law school, then worked in private practice defending white collar lawsuits. As you may have guessed, my legal pursuits played into the Bad Bitch Series, as each centers around lawyers.
Lawyers are a strange bunch. We love to drink (too much). We love to argue (too much). And a lot of us live for the drama of the courtroom (too much). I pretty much meet all those tests, and I take those traits even further with my characters. Evan, the heroine of Bad Bitch, is the quintessential hot shot attorney who is a force to be reckoned with. She is undeniably alpha--at least until she meets Lincoln, who is undeniably even more alpha. In Hardass, Washington tries to be the stuffy, uptight attorney with his career on the front burner. He does well at it until Caroline shows up and really turns up the heat. And, in Total D*ck, Kennedy is the unrepentant rake who meets his legal and love match, Scarlett.
All of my characters are spirited, intelligent, and fire in the sack. They spring from my experience and also my imagination (side note: I've never seen an episode of Law & Order in my life). These books aren't ripped from the headlines, but they are sure to take you on a trip and leave you wanting more. I hope you enjoy reading about my three brothers and their sassy women as much as I enjoyed writing about them.
PS Give Evan a chance. Yeah, she's a Bad Bitch, but she has a lot of heart once you get to know her.
PPS The sex scenes are SMOKIN'. Believe it.
They call me the Bad Bitch. A lesser woman might get her panties in a twist over it, but me? I'm the one who does the twisting. Whether it's in the courtroom or in the bedroom, I've never let anyone - much less a man - get the upper hand.Except for that jerk attorney Lincoln Granade. He's dark, mysterious, smoking hot and sexy as hell. He's nothing but a bad, bad boy playing the part of an up and coming premiere attorney. I'm not worried about losing in a head to head battle with this guy. But he gets me all hot and bothered in a way no man has ever done before. I don't like a person being under my skin this much. It makes me want to let go of all control, makes me want to give in. This dangerous man makes me want to submit to him completely, again, and again, and again...
Check out the Bad Bitch series:
“Why are you looking into my clients?”
“I’m not going to tell you—”
“You said —” I flared again.
“You didn’t let me finish. I’m not going to tell you, but Drew came by and picked up all my discovery docs today. I assume you have someone in your firm collecting all the victim information for you? I’m sure an attorney of your caliber doesn’t do the grunt work.”
“Yes. I have associates on it.”
“Then all will become clear in short order. Trust me. If I was able to figure it out, you’ll figure it out in half the time.”
I leaned back into him and lay my head against his chest. His steady heartbeat was strong, a comforting thump-thump. I felt the fear falling away. I hated the feeling of fear, the emotion. There was a time in my life when I almost let fear destroy me, and I refused to let it ever happen again.
I wanted to believe him, to maintain our tenuous connection. Even if it was only for one more night. Even if tomorrow I found out all my worst fears were well-founded and he really was looking to get my name in front of a grand jury. For tonight, I just wanted him.
His steady strength.
He stroked down my back.
“It’s okay, Angel. I promise.”
“Why do you call me angel?” Even I heard the weariness in my tone. My adrenaline was fading fast.
He scooped me into his arms and took me the ten steps to his bed. He scooted his wine-colored covers down and sat me on the edge of the mattress before taking my shoes off and kissing the arch of each foot. A thrill shot through me at the touch of his warm lips.
He stood. I couldn’t help but notice his erection tenting his pajama pants. He noticed, too, and tucked it into the waistband of his boxers. I groaned in irritation.
“Arms up.” He ordered.
I did as I was told and he pulled my blouse over my head. He unclasped my bra and peeled it from me. His eyes paused on my nipples, already beaded and rosy. Then he pulled me to my feet and unzipped my skirt. He slid it down my body, dotting kisses over my stomach and legs as he did so. I was warm in all the right places. His touch made sure of it.
He pushed me back so I landed on my ass.
“Lie down.”
I did and he threw the covers over me and hit the light switch. I saw nothing in the new darkness.
“What are we doing?” I asked.
“Sleeping together.”
“Wait. Sleeping as in sleeping? No sex?”
I sank into his pillow, his clean scent washing over me in a pleasant wave.
“Not tonight.” He got in beside me and palmed my ass. “But not because I don’t want to.”
“Then why?” I yawned.
“That’s why. You’re exhausted.”
He snugged up to my back, spooning me. I wriggled back toward him, trying to get a feel of his dick on my ass. He growled and put a hand on my hip, holding me in place.
“Don’t tempt me, angel.”
“You never really answered my question. Why do you call me that?” I lay still, content in his arms.
“First, it’s part of your name, so it’s a legit nickname.”
“Sure,” I agreed, already drowsing off a bit.
“Second, the moment I saw you in that bar, I knew you were a fallen angel, sent to tempt me.”
I turned over and nestled into the hollow of his neck, breathing him in. He was a sweet talker, all right.
“Total bullshit,” I whispered.
“No, I’m serious.”
“You can’t tell a girl something like that and ever expect to get rid of her.”
“That’s what I’m hoping for, angel.”
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