I really need to get away from it all, so I sign up for a remote retreat. I barely pay attention to the details, something about inner peace and self-discipline. Blah blah. Whatever. When I get off the boat, I expect to be met by some chill monks. Instead, I’m greeted by two hot ex-military men who run their remote meditation center like a boot camp. I quickly learn they’re really serious, and hands on, about the discipline part. They demand obedience and submission, I demand cocktails and hot towels. None of us are giving in. But one of us is very sore. Me. It’s me. I’m sore. These guys know how to break a girl down. Before I know it, I’m falling apart. Going to inner pieces. Are they going to put me back together? Or will I stay their shattered little brat? And what happens when they find out why I really had to get away?