Sydney Rye Mysteries

Sydney Rye and her dog, Blue, exact justice with a vengeance.

The dog doesn't die. But the bad guys do.

Blue was as tall as a Great Dane but skinnier, with the snout of a collie, the markings of a Siberian husky, the ears and tail of a shepherd, and the body of a wolf with one blue eye and one brown. Crouched in a sitting position, unable to lie down or sit all the way up, he looked at me from between the bars, and I fell in love.

I adopted Blue from the shelter, and everything in my world changed...

When I brought him home, I wanted something in my life that was worth holding on to. I’d just broken up with my boyfriend and picked up a dog-walking gig on the Upper East Side. I was young and lost...normal.

I was still Joy Humbolt.

I'd never even heard the name Sydney Rye.

Never seen a dead body, gotten beat up, or shot at. I didn’t set out to be a hero—couldn’t have imagined becoming a vigilante.

But I don’t regret what I’ve done. The lives I’ve saved...or the ones I’ve taken.