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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?
