Stealing Writing Novels & Stories

Every swing she made was heavier and faster than the previous ones. She just did not like the way they resolved the revolt of the villagers. Killing them, even the weak ones, was just so low and unacceptable. Plus, the problem was not in the villagers themselves but it was rooted in the corrupt ministers who thought of nothing but themselves and fulfilled their greed while those who shed sweat every day were starving.

Stealing of my work/any idea or portion of the book may result to severe punishment to whoever who plagiarizes as it is a serious crime and won't be excused. This is a work of fiction. Names, places, businesses, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, actual events or locales is purely coincidental. _____ Prologue... In the Ceo's house, Late night, She was confused and taken aback when he lifted himself up from her body, "Strip Stella!" Unfortunately they were back again to square one. "Uh, Max..." She initiated but miserably failed when he pulled her out of the bed and o

the rescuer said as he grabbed Rita who was already intoxicated but could hear what he said. "Take me out of here", she said with a muffled voice without glimpsing at who rescued her. "Alright, I'll take you out of here but did you come here alone? He asks, looking down at her. "Take me out of here", she whispered again, dangling her right hand loosely while she rested her whole body on him. He navigated her steps till they got out of the club; he helped her into his car and drove like a bat out of hell. He stole a few peeks at her and couldn't help but get entertained by how she kept talking to herself in the car, making hand gesticulations sleepily. He arrived at a safe spot and then parke

Nikita Ragland is a young actress who has only recently made her debut. After starring in a few romance short series, she starts to believe she's a real-life princess. After another argument with her boyfriend, Dwayne Ferguson, Nikita doesn't hesitate to abandon a production crew of more than 500 people and catch a flight in the middle of the night just to appease her beloved boyfriend. When filming starts the next day, Nikita is nowhere to be found, and her hotel room is empty. Dozens of messages are sent to her, but none receive a response. It isn't until that evening that she finally calls on video, completely unbothered. "Mr. Casson, I went to pacify my boyfriend. Let's put filming

Faced with the reporters’ relentless questions, Lia completely panicked. Her tears were no longer an act; they were real fear. “I… I can explain…” she stammered. A reporter from The Wall Street Journal was merciless. “Explain what? How you framed Miss Caroline and then stole her job and her office?” The livestream chat was now a firehose of outrage. These two are disgusting! They took her money, used her connections, and then stabbed her in the back!

Her gaze locked onto the journalist who posed the first question, a subtle smile playing at the corners of her lips. "First and foremost, I would like to express my sincere gratitude to Nixon Tech for granting me the platform to showcase my passion for Software Technology," Elena's eyes shimmered with excitement, her voice brimming with conviction. "For five years and several months, I wholeheartedly poured my ingenious knowledge, creativity, and unique abilities into the company. It is, therefore, ironic for them to accuse me of theft. In fact, I dare say that it is the company itself that swindled me, depriving me of the recognition and rewards that I rightfully deserved. So, I pose this q

I thought that after this incident, he might finally learn his lesson and stop pulling this kind of stunt. Unexpectedly, another delivery showed up outside my door that evening. I took it downstairs and tossed it into the trash along with the garbage from my apartment. When I came back upstairs, Derek was once again standing outside my door arguing with a delivery driver. The moment he saw me, he pointed a finger in my direction. "Was it you who stole my food? You pathetic freeloader. I caught you once at lunchtime, and now you've got the nerve to steal it again tonight?"

Hence, he could only let his actions show that he was always on my side. "Thank you." I nodded at him and walked out. People in the research institute all turned to look at me. Since my identity was exposed, my colleagues had been especially sympathetic. In their eyes, everything I had achieved was the result of my own hard work. However, my brother, Jeffrey Shaw, had publicly declared on the company's website that all my achievements were thanks to the Shaw family's name. As such, I had no right to blame them, nor did I deserve any sympathy.

She was trying to frame me. She'd been looking for a way to get me kicked out, and planting the manuscript in my stuff? That was a masterstroke of sabotage. Writers loathe the idea of anyone stealing their work—there's no greater betrayal. After a deep breath, I called Claudia to explain. But instead of Claudia, Hailey's voice slithered through the line. "Vera," she cooed, smug as ever, "did you steal Claudia's manuscript?" "It was in my cabinet," I shot back. "I just found it."

On the first page, the introduction stated: [The man who steals had been known as a thief, a gentleman of knowledge, a flying thief, and there are sects of stealing, such as…] “Damn it! Why are they all the same? So pretentious,” Darryl muttered, but it was not long before he was hooked on the contents of the book. The Cult Mistress was right; this was indeed an interesting read. The stealing techniques used by modern-day thieves were considered unprofessional. This included using tools such as using long tweezers to steal a phone from a lady’s bag.