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Stories by M. J. Sager

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Stories by M. J. Sager

Alter Ego - M. J. Sager

When I started my writing career and first became published, I thought I’d write erotica, and chose two names to write under. So far, the erotica career hasn’t happened and I decided to drop the pen name M. J. Sager. However, I do have three short stories published under the pseudonym, which are available on Coffee Time Romance.  These stories are all contemporaries, but not Westerns.  However, if you enjoy the way I write as Anna Kathryn, you’re sure to enjoy my alter ego’s stories as well.


Burned in the past, journalist Clara Barnes doesn’t mix pleasure with business.  Her conviction is sorely tested when she meets sexy resort owner Grayson Everett. Gray is instantly attracted to the woman sent to do an article on his retreat.  Neither is looking for love, but the magic of the Blue Moon opens their hearts to possibility of ENCHANTMENT BY THE SEA, until Clara learns the truth behind Gray’s seduction. Will he convince her the magic is real before it wanes?

Enchantment by the Sea unedited excerpt

“There are things you don’t know about me,” Clara whispered.

Gray raised an eyebrow.  “Are you an axe murderer?”

“What?” Startled, she stopped walking. “No, of course not.”

“Did you embezzle millions from your employer?”

Clara laughed.  “I’ve never worked for anyone who had millions to embezzle.”

“Do you rip off the mattress labels when you’re not supposed to?”

She grinned at him.  “No.”

“Then nothing about you is worth not letting me get to know you better.”

“This is.” She needed to tell him why she was at his resort.

He put his finger against her mouth.  “Shhh.  See that moon?  It’s a Blue Moon—the second full moon of the month. It’s magical, and that means tonight is magical as well.” He cocked his head at her.  “You don’t want to waste all that magic telling me things about you that don’t matter, do you?”

“What does matter, then?” Her voice was breathless.

He stepped closer, pulling her into his arms.  “This.”

His head lowered and he claimed her mouth in a deep kiss.  His tongue slipped in and teased as it parried with hers.  His hands explored the hollows of her back, cupping her buttocks and holding her against his growing erection. 

Clara slipped her arms around his waist and moaned. 

It had been too long since she’d been held like this…kissed liked this.  She felt cherished and desired.  Needed and wanted.

She molded to the contours of his hard body. He groaned, tightening his arms around her and broke the kiss. He dropped his head into the hollow of her neck, his breath hot against her skin.

“Christ, what you do to me, Clara,” he whispered, lifting his head and resting his cheek on her temple.

She laid her head on his chest, listening to the rapid thumping of his heart and his ragged breathing.  She felt none too steady herself and feared if he released her she’d crumple to the sand in an ungainly puddle. 

He pulled away from her, lifting her chin until he stared at her with dark, desire-filled eyes. He searched her face, as if looking for an answer there.

“Clara, what am I going to do with you?”

Take me to bed? Make wild, passionate love to me? She remained silent.

Gray groaned. His mouth hungrily covered hers. Heat, lust, need spiraled through her.  She grasped his shoulders and forgot why she shouldn’t be doing this.  His lips seared a path across her cheek and down her neck.  He nibbled her earlobe.  His hands roamed her body—waist, buttocks, back.  He cupped a breast through her cotton dress, teasing the nipple with his thumb.

“Clara.” He reclaimed her mouth, devouring its softness. He pulled her down onto the sand as he continued the sensual kiss.



More than soup cooks when Layla and Conner prepare the daily special.  More than sparks fly when she discovers who Conner really is and why he’s interested in her Community Center.

Soup d’Amour unedited excerpt


Conner stood in the anteroom of the building, his hand on the doorknob. It was nearly three and the clean-up from lunch was finally finished. Layla had dismissed him from his ‘community hours.’ Yet, he was reluctant to leave.

“Mr. Conner,” Layla said from the dining room.

He turned to face her. “Yes.”

“You didn’t give me the paperwork for the court. I need to fill it out so you’ll get your credit.” The scent of roses wafted around him as she stepped closer.

He patted his shirt, which had no pockets. “I left them at my office.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he noted the limousine stop at the curb. He kept his gaze on Layla’s face as she turned to stare out the glass door. Her eyes widened, then shuttered her thoughts.

“You need to get it to me, so you can prove to the court you came.” She looked at him. “Do you plan to finish your hours here?”

He fisted a hand. Damn that lie. “No. I’ve decided I want something more important than community service hours from the East Side Community Center.”

“Oh, what’s that?”

He had never in his life asked a woman he hadn’t known for weeks, if not months, out on a date. He drew in a deep breath.

“I’d like to take you out for dinner tonight. I don’t believe I can do that if I’m earning my hours with you.” This would be easier if he didn’t have to keep up that pretense.

Her eyes widened more than they had when she spotted his car. “I don’t think that would be advisable.”

He reached out a hand and touched her face. Fire flared up his arm. “Can you tell me you don’t feel the electricity between us? I felt it the moment I laid eyes on you. I’d kick myself tomorrow if I didn’t at least see if it’s real.”

She leaned her cheek into his palm and he ran his thumb over her lips. Her lips parted in a silent gasp.

“Dinner. That’s all I’m asking. Let’s just see if there’s something real between us or not.”

Layla licked her lips and his thumb, then jerked back in surprise. She drew in an unsteady breath. “Okay. I can be ready by seven.”

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When you speak your words echo only across the room
or down the hall.
But, when you write, your words echo down the ages. --Bud Gardner