Sometimes you read a novel, and whilst knee-deep in some shamelessly perverse delights that the author has dreamt up, you think to yourself “what the hell must this author’s friends and family think when reading this”. I have to admit, I absolutely love it when an author just goes “to hell with it” and allows all those nasty little thoughts and worrying daydreams to be unleashed across their work. It’s one of the aspects I loved about Laymon’s tales the most. He frankly didn’t give a shit if someone judged him. If someone wondered if these were indeed his own fantasies. It’s a story. A work of fiction. Nothing more…we hope.

With David Owain Hughes’ ‘Wind-Up Toy’, what you get is just that type of sleazy, lowest denominator filth that makes you feel dirty just reading it. It’s unashamedly grubby from start to finish – with sex and carnal titillation constantly the main meal of the day.

The premise and set-up of the plot is a pretty straight forward affair. You’ve got a guy with one hell of a messed-up childhood, who’s grown up to become a submissive slave to a dominatrix, but now wants to break free from her abusive role-playing. In reaching out for some form of help, he ends up speaking to a young volunteer from a local Samaritan call centre. Said pervert then manages to gradually build up a repertoire with the good-natured student on the other end of the phone, and whilst still getting up to various dirty deeds out on the streets of Porthcawl, slowly draws the Good Samaritan closer into his devious and dangerous world.

However, it’s not the plot or the carefully knitted together storyline, that make the novel the (oh so wrongfully) entertaining read that it is – it’s instead with the characters and the masterfully fleshed-out characterisation Hughes has injected into his tale. Simone – our messed-up principal character – is a lovingly-sculpted work of perverted art. His personality is a complex latticework of opposing elements, which creates purposeful conflicts with the reader, whilst sporadic human qualities can be glimpsed within the slime of his perversions.

Through a series of flashbacks, Hughes paints a vivid backstory for the character, mapping out how Simone’s life was undeniably affected by his very ‘different’ upbringing. It’s probably here that the novel ventures into some of the most unsettling areas – with underage sex and the like adding a particularly hard-to-swallow edge to the first half of the tale.

Move on to the here-and-now and we’re treated to a near constant showcase of one man’s unrelenting libido, the sleazy little things that make him tick, and the lengths he’ll go to in order to appease these urges. As you’ve undoubtedly guessed – things will get messy, not everyone that comes into his sights will be all that willing to participate in the outrageously sordid stuff he wants to do, but ultimately Simone’s going to get his release – one way or the other.

One aspect which works particularly well with Hughes’ writing style (in this novel at least), is the shifting perspective which is combined with the repeating timeframe. Quite often chapters will show the situation from one character’s perspective, to then repeat the same period of time in the proceeding chapter, only from another character’s perspective (this is usually shifting between Simone and Toni). This is a simple, yet remarkably clever device to keep the reader fully engaged with the tale – with each chapter clearing up aspects from the preceding one, allowing the reader to reassess the oddities that perhaps didn’t seem to make particular sense to an outside observer at the time.

Although from the outset it’s clear that Hughes has his sight on one goal – delivering extreme and sordid horror entertainment – there’s nevertheless still a wealth of cunning complexities and inter-woven layers going on within the novel. Gratuitous violence is married with a subtly hidden agenda for a ‘normal life’ and a non-abusive relationship. The novel’s awash with raw emotions; hurt, distrust and betrayal, and a seething anger that perfectly mirrors the goodness within the character of Toni.

It’s certainly not a novel for everyone. It explores fantasies and desires that some will find just that tad too extreme or indeed downright depraved. Yes, there’s that overriding ‘horror’ aspect – with plenty of brutal violence and visceral gore clinging to the heels of all the sleaze. I dare say the majority of horror fans will use the splatterings of grisly horror to justify where the entertainment’s at in the tale. But deep down you know there’s also the undeniable thrill of the sleaze. Like a Graham Masterton erotic horror, Hughes delivers equal measures of grubby dirt alongside plentiful bloodshed.

If you’re easily offended, or simply prefer to steer clear of blatant seediness, then best you skip this one. There’s more depravity and filth in these pages than a well-thumbed copy of Razzle. But of course, it’s how the slimy, sleazy ponderings so easily progress to acts of brutal and sadistic violence, that’s ultimately where the novel gets you in the gut.

‘Wind-up Toy’ is a one-stop-shop for all things lewd and twisted. It pushes the boundaries of taste, until we’re standing ankle deep in blood and filth and wondering what the hell just happened.

Gut-churningly depraved fun from start to finish.  You’ll love it!

The tale was first published as the stand alone novel ‘Wind-Up Toy’ (2016).

Whore, whore, whore…Merry Christmas! My, my, is this a wild festive read! It’s got all the insanity of a textbook David Owain Hughes story – colourful and sadistic characters, psychotic bloodlust, a splash of sordid debauchery, and one fucking maniacal plot.

We start out meeting the gangsters – Hammer, Ace, Bruno, Valentine, Forty-Five and a psychotic lunatic named Ike. With this colourful collection of characters in the mix, a wealth of hilarious black comedy banter quickly ensues, before our star guest of the night arrives.

In typical DOH fashion, the grand entrance of the Klaws family is an absolute bloodbath of violence. It’s everything you’d expect from a festive short story from DOH. If you remember that Christmas episode of ‘Futurama’ when Robot Santa goes on a rampage – well, crank the psychotic madness up to eleven and watch as the heads roll! Trust me, this one’s gift wrapped with so much furious festive fun. Frigging genius is what it is.

Ha! What a fucking story! You can imagine the big smile on his face as Hughes conjured up the idea of this one. It’s the sort of story that’s undoubtedly come from a moment of hilarious inspiration. A colossal beast gorging on used nappies in a ‘James Bond villain’ style setting. Oh, the sheer wackiness of it all.

Short, sharp and oh so fucking wild. It’s a simple short that delivers a series of punchlines you probably weren’t expecting. Who is this guy? Where is he? Why the hell is he about to be attacked? And then the big twist at the end…one which changes the whole perspective, whilst simultaneously throwing up even more questions. Questions which honestly really don’t need answering. Because the story is all about the sledgehammer of a twist-ending. It’s a short tale that thumps you in the gut then waltzes off into the sunset as you lay there, jaw open, wondering what the fuck just happened. Glorious!

This is a fun one. Essentially what we have is a wild cross between Walter Hill’s ‘The Warriors’ (1979) and J.R. Park’s ‘The Exchange’ (2016), with more than a few Easter-Egg nods towards Russo’s ‘Return Of The Living Dead’ (1985) thrown in for good measure.

First off, the story is absolutely bursting at the seams with a wild flurry of action and adrenaline-pumping violence. Initially this is with the savage, almost post-apocalyptic gang-on-gang warfare, but this eventually erupts into (spoiler alert) a gang-on-zombie fight for survival.

As with almost all of Hughes’ offerings, the story displays a rich cast of characters, all sporting quirky names and with their own little traits and drives. Miniature backstories for the key characters amongst them provide a slice of depth to the overall story, bringing an added level of life to the gangs and their bloodthirsty rivalry.

But the story really is all about the action and violence. The sheer barrage of blood, guts and gore we’re presented with is immense. Rotten heads roll, and bodies are literally torn apart, in a maelstrom of over-the-top violent mayhem. 

Furthermore, within our cast of characters, we have a band of trained mercenaries who increase the violence tenfold, including a sword wielding samurai who comes across as a male version of Michonne from ‘The Walking Dead’ (2003 – 2019). Also, as with ‘The Warriors’ (1979), we also have knuckledusters, chains, hammers, and hatchets all brought in use against the undead hordes.

Oh yes, it's a fucking wild ride for sure. An explosion of violence that doesn’t let up until the very last pages are turned. And man, is it a blast.

The short novella was first published within the collection ‘Dual Depravity: Volume 2’ (2018).

The collection runs for a total of 353 pages.