She was sent to be my ruin.

I made her my obsession instead.

Rustanov men do not fall. We conquer. We own. We destroy anyone reckless enough to cross us.

And Lydia dared to cross me.

She was sent to seduce me before the biggest hockey game of my life. But then she lost her nerve at the last second and ran out before I could claim her. She thought that was the end of it.

It was only the beginning.

Forget the way my heart raced when she looked up at me with those big, doe eyes and apologized for her innocence before saying I would be her first.

There are always consequences when you cross a Rustanov.

From Bully to Husband, she’s about to find out what a nightmare I can be.

She was mine from the moment I saw her. I will never let her go.

Lydia, you have no idea what I will do, what I will burn, who I will become, to make sure you never run away from me again.

Bully to Husband is the complete Yom and Lydia story, two consecutive books (Her Rustanov Bully and Her Rustanov Husband) collected in one binge-ready duet. This collected duet includes two bonus epilogues previously only available to my Patreons.

Expect an obsessive alpha with a wounded heart, a neurospicy heroine who has no idea what she’s wrought, enemies to lovers heat, forced proximity, huge secrets, filthy banter, gut-punch feels, and a guaranteed happily ever after.

REJECTED BY ALL, UNTIL…

I’ve always been the outcast in my cloistered Canadian village. So, after an especially humiliating rejection, I sign up for a Bridal Exchange trip to Scotland, a wolf kingdom desperate for she-wolf brides to reverse their zero birth population crisis. But even the threat of extinction isn’t enough to make any of the Scottish Wolves want a 6-foot-tall, plus-sized she-wolf with a quirky whittling hobby.

Just as I’m about to give up, all of the would-be brides are kidnapped by the Irish Wolves… who don’t want me either. In fact, they drop me off with three huge males… who claim to be kings. My kings.

That’s when I learn I’m not the world’s most rejected she-wolf.
Because actually, I’m not a she-wolf at all.

Too big, too curvy, too other—that’s exactly what at least two of these Irish Kings are looking for. But one of them—the High King, who gets the final say—isn’t so sure.

The word ruin comes up. A bunch.

After a lifetime of rejection, can I put aside my insecurities and trust not one, not two, but three Irish Bear Kings with my heart?