Nope. No no no. Uh uh.You can say dead body. You can even describe how bloody it is. Or mention his guts or whatever. But I can't handle lengthy (this is page 3, now) descriptions of how a blanket of flies are eating his lips and laid eggs in his eye sockets, or how his splattered brain look like melted butter. As much as I loved Ilsa's other book I think I may just vomit on this one for real.