All those forgotten books

The books you've forgotten over the years  . . . those stories, hard to recall.  Are there any books that hide in the shadows of your mind?  Book that make you think: hmm, I read it; but when?  Why?  And what the hell was the title and who the hell was the author?!

Books, like any style of artistic expression, are subject to genre-biases.  For example: there are those who read The Twilight Saga by Stephenie Meyer, and then there are those who read The Saga of Seven Suns by Kevin J. Anderson.  And I am proud to be genre-biased.  I own The Saga of Seven Suns; furthermore, I don't even care about this whole Twilight saga [sic] to begin with--read it, don't read it; love it, hate it; emo, artist; tomato, potato--who cares? 

But yeah, yeah . . . who cares?  Right?

Being as I am, (and that doesn't mean I don't read mainstream fiction), I often read randomly.  My tastes change ever-so often and if I see book I think I may like, I'll buy it.  Book stores are a nemesis of my personal monetary goals.  I'm always buying books and magazines.  And some of those books are gone.  Gone to friends, ex-lovers, used book stores . . . the garbage. 

But which books?  What were they?

There are a number of books rolling around inside my head that I just can't seem to recall in grave detail.  I know I read it, I know what it was about, I even remember a scene or two and various descriptions.  But what the title was, who the author was . . . I haven't the faintest.

I wish I could remember these books . . . I mean, I remember reading Weasel by Cynthia C. DeFelice when I was like 12 years old (and that was 17 years ago), but books which came later in my years, like when I was in college . . . poof!  Gone!

I mean, there was this book which had a black cover, with a girl, and gears from a clock tower, and there was a pocket watch; and I remember a scene with a bad guy from her dreams, and she belched this purple light which the bad guy caught and proceeded to eat, ultimately leading to his demise. 

And I remember reading this homo-erotic vampire story, where people are converted into the realm of the undead via Dracula's(?) phallus. 

And then there was that book about farming . . . an entire full-length novel about farming . . . corn . . . soil . . . chickens . . . farming . . . Ohio.

There are others I assure you, books that are just lingering in the deepest crevices of my wrinkled brain.  And it drives me insane . . .