CRADLE OF FILTH will be holding an in-store signing session in Paris, France on November 13th at the Champs Elysee Virgin Megastore. It will take place between 5:00pm - 6:30pm.

In other news, frontman Dani Filth has issued the following update on his recent trip to Los Angeles to promote the band's new album, Thornography:

"Dear Fiends and Filthettes,

Sadly this is the last verbal outing prior to the European tour, but rest assured, there will be the usual extensive tour diary being uploaded from day to day as we travel the length and breath of Europe befouling and corrupting all we meet and see.

Anyway, the aforementioned LA trip. This went exceedingly well despite getting off to a somewhat bad start, what with my wife Toni having to return home from the airport instead of making our Saturday flight, having the wrong bloody surname on her ticket. This meant that she had to return the next day and meet us at our rather plush hotel, which was situated not far from our All Hallow's Eve destination of The Roxy night-spot (which myself and Rob Caggianno made good use of the first night, clubbing it until the early hours of the following morn at all kinds of exotic rock-pools). Fortunately our good friend from Hustler magazine, Tom Farrell, was on hand to grab her from the airport as well as provide me with a highly entertaining trip around the LA suburbs, detailing the who's who of LA's richest residents and of course, the best bars and restaurants.

However, this was not half as comedic as Monday night's 'Haunted House/Murder Tour' with Revolver magazine in tow shooting us at each particular scene, as the tour guide not only managed to be the hammiest host ever to grace the Hollywood hot spots, but his vintage fifties estate car kept on giving up it's ghost and breaking down... and usually in the honking thickness of downtown traffic! It was absolutely hilarious, although our press woman from the record company seemed none too impressed with the whole shoddy affair, especially when the driver pointed out that at least we had had the full two hours tour (albeit staring at a steaming radiator!).

Still, at least we got to see Marilyn Monroe's grave (which wasn't quite as impressive as one would've thought...) and the entry gates to the Osbourne mansion, amongst other more sinister abodes (the Sharon Tate murder house was unfortunately viewed from literally a mile away).

That night also got us an invite to the Fear.com launch party which was rather glamorous and glitzy, with it's red carpet entry (I got my arse out for the cameras) and various spooky events happening inside the rather outsized gathering, including tattooing, zombie waiters touting gore-hors d'oeuvres and horror movie caricatures thriving midst a veritable orgy of free booze (which i am ashamed to admit in retrospect that i wholeheartedly took advantage of) and even freer party bags, rife with DVDs. A portion of my night was spent trying to out-scare the girl from The Grudge, who appeared out of nowhere in the women's toilets as Toni was powdering her nose, almost leading to a coronary.

Tuesday started with an en-suite hangover cure and a bit of the doldrums as my first year anniversary was interrupted by a solo tour of the Hustler offices (brilliant under any other situation, though I did meet some very cool people dressed in some very strange Halloween costumes) which dragged out to an hour prior to our in-store at Hot Topic because of the horrendous traffic getting back and me being loaded down with all manner of sexy paraphernalia.

The day obviously picked up here as over three hundred fans turned out to see me and Paul contented sign away all manner of weird and wonderful stuff in the confines of a shop full of the same. This is what I love about these signing sessions, the flora and fauna of fandom, replete with unhinged dress codes and even more unhinged requests filing past like the entourage of the damned.

Our in-store was then completed by a quick shopping-spree courtesy of the Hot Topic staff (who I'd definitely like to take the opportunity to thank right about now!) and then it was off to prepare ourselves for the gathering at The Roxy.

It was at this point that the assimilation of hangover, jet-lag and lack of food started to kick in for me and at one point I didn't think I was going to make it out that evening after retching in the sink a few times, but a few prods in the right place from my wife and a settling of my internal organs saw me right as rain in the very nick of time.

The night was pretty cool despite both Paul and I forgetting the charger for our Ipod DJ set, thus unfortunately leaving all concerned to the mercies of our album playing incessantly (nightmare!) with the highlight of the evening being meeting up with our number one fan (probably a bone of contention with at least one or two people at least) and all round nice lad Weston Cage, son of the actor Nicholas Cage (with whom I got the opportunity to speak to on a cell phone). It would seem that he's quite a massive fan as well!

The night wound down fairly quickly having exhausted the plethora of people after a couple of hours of drinks, mingling and mind-numbingly loud music and so we made an exit back to the hotel feeling at the same time exhilarated and exhausted.

The night continued for Toni as she went out clubbing with friends whilst I ate some room service and crawled into bed to drift off watching Vincent Price movies on the humungous HD TV, pretty much spent but content and feeling more than a little guilty for leaving her to her own devices... she raring to go and I staring at the grave.

The next day, our final there, saw Paul and his wife Deborah (along with our manager, Fay) head over to Hot Topic's head quarters in the valley to discuss business with the honchos from Bravado, whilst I was allowed the freedom to hit Melrose and it's menagerie of clothing stores with a reconstituted Rob Caggianno.

If you're ever there you've got to check out 'Necromance', a shop full of antiquities and curios that will satisfy even the most ardent of ghouls and grave diggers. I think my favourite pieces in the shop were either the old photographs of women who would literally rot from different viewpoints or the bottled mink penises. But hey, that's just me....

So after buying a nice Hellraiser-style overcoat and scoffing a lunch of traditional American fare (thick Oreo milkshakes and sloppy hotdogs), then staring tongue-tied at a garage full of Lamborghini and pimped up Corvettes, it was back to the hotel to pick up our luggage, pay the sizeable room bill (we would insist on lazy breakfasts in bed) and then fuck off to the airport for another journey forged in Hell... ten hour flight, three hour journey home.

And that's that minus the really juicy bits, but you're quite welcome to fill in the empty gaps as, after all, there were tons of parties and it was our anniversary (having acquired some rather unusual looking appliances from Tom the Hustler guy).

And now it's back to a peaceful week in sleepy, misty Suffolk, before seeing you horrible lot giving it large out on tour.

C'est la fucking Mort!"
- Count Filth. xxx

Video footage from the Hot Topic signing session can be found at this location (scroll down).