serendipitous trips to bookstores

I feel like one of life’s little pleasures comes from unannounced, unplanned, completely serendipitous trips to bookstores. I had one those, yesterday afternoon, in the midst of a terminally busy day. I found three books, all on sale, the Sweet Potato Queen sequel, another copy (that new translation) of Beowulf, and some kind of Western. But the strangest find (okay, so far it really isn’t that good of a book, but its astrology is sound) is Heart of Stone by Denny DeMartino (sounds a lot like a pen name).