Once, there was almost a book called Borderline. It was written, accepted, contracted and then-- nothing. That happens sometimes. This one has haunted me for years, because I no longer have a copy of the manuscript. (It was written in the days of floppy disks and the disk corrupted.) I remember I dreamed the first chapter and it stuck in my mind so strongly that I wrote the book very quickly.
Now I can't even remember the names of any of the characters.