My novel is pure trash... but it's on Kindle Unlimited.
When I was a teenager, I thought my destiny was art. I studied literature and photography, did some modeling work, and acted in a couple of small theater plays. My current reality is completely different: I work in a restaurant kitchen and what I do most of the day is peel potatoes. My biggest aspiration is that the chef quits one day so I can take his place.
A few years ago, I wrote a novel that I thought was very deep. I spent a lot of money on editing and the cover, but above all I invested a huge amount of time. It took me years to write it. I uploaded it to Amazon, but no one downloaded it. I was convinced the novel was good (maybe more than it actually was), but I didn't sell a single copy.
One day I got fed up. I said: "If that's what they want, I'll give them exactly what they're asking for."
I wrote Maid for the Billionaire in less than 5 months. I didn't invest a single cent: not in the cover or professional editing (I'm sure it's missing commas and periods). It's full of absurd scenes and totally cliché characters: the millionaire who falls in love with his Mexican employee and the trophy wife addicted to plastic surgery and pills. (Seriously, my grandmother already watched that garbage in the 4 p.m. soap operas.) To make sure it was really bad, I even added a conflict with the Russian mafia and a boy with huge ears whom they call Dumbo.
The novel is pure trash. It's full of exaggerations, parodies, absurd scenes, and toxic craziness. But you know what? I put it up for free for two days and people downloaded it. Now I don't know if I should feel proud or embarrassed.
If you want to see the result of my existential crisis, the book is on Kindle Unlimited. Read it at your own risk.
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0GZQ396ZB
P.S.: If you don't like it... well, what can you do. Tomorrow I'll be back peeling potatoes like any other mortal.