Exclusive
Fall in Love With ‘It’s Different This Time’: Read An Exclusive Excerpt of Joss Richard’s Dazzling Debut
Joss Richard’s debut novel, It’s Different This Time, is the kind of novel you read in one sitting. This second-chance romance, which will hit bookshelves on September 30, is one you won’t be able to stop thinking about. You’ll immediately be scrolling TikTok for edits and dream-casting June Wood and Adam Harper in your head. The yearning! The angst! The romance! It’s all there — and more.
June thought she’d never go back to New York City. On the heels of her TV show’s cancellation, she finds herself back in the Big Apple after receiving a mysterious email about the place on Perry Street where she used to live with her former roommate, Adam Harper. In Swooon’s exclusive excerpt (which you can read below), June sees Adam for the first time in five years. Through dual timelines, you’ll be completely immersed in the origins of June and Adam’s friendship, the moment that changed everything, and how they navigate their long-held feelings for each other years later.
Since we love a *little treat* here at Swooon, Joss will also be at Dell Romance’s Cozy Night In event — with Swooon! — at the Ripped Bodice on October 28. Get your tickets here!
Read our exclusive excerpt of It’s Different This Time below:
“June,” she says, nodding. “So, to introduce myself, I’ve been a CPA for over twenty years. I’ve been with Bower & Robbins for the past twelve years. We offer services for businesses, individuals, real estate companies, estates, trusts, nonprofits, and more,” she says, and I don’t tell her I already know this due to my extensive research over the past forty-eight hours. “And I specifically focus on individuals and families, as well as real estate.”
“Oh, okay.”
My brain continues to sweep through all the possible reasons I could be here. There had never been an issue when I lived on Perry. Could this be about the rent? Maybe the checks never went through, and I somehow owe a small fortune in rent money?
“Okay.” She adjusts her computer monitor. “Before we get started, there are a few details I need to gather from you that I didn’t have a chance to ask in our emails.”
“Of course.” I nod and tuck my hair behind my ear.
“So, I have here on file that you resided at 74 Perry for…” I watch her eyes dart back and forth across her screen. “Six years?”
“Correct.” I clear my throat and prepare myself for the rest of the questions.
“Perfect.” She hands me an iPad with a form full of details: legal name, occupation, current address, number, etc. “If you don’t mind taking a few minutes to fill this out, please.”
“Sure.” I take the device from her and fill out the necessary details and return it.
“Thank you.” She glances over my answers and then smiles. “Actually, it’s probably best if we wait for everyone before we continue.”
I move my head as if it will help me hear better. “Everyone?”
“Yes, he should be here any—” Then, as if on cue, her office phone rings, and she answers it. “Yes? Mhm. You can go ahead and send him in.”
She’s talking about someone else. She must be talking about someone else. Perhaps another CPA. There’s no way…
My palms start to get clammy and I can’t shake my heart palpitations. For the love of God, it can’t be. I remember specifically rereading my email exchanges with Mara and making a note that I was the only one in the chain.
There are some muffled sounds through the wall. I can’t make out any words being said, but I know I hear a man’s voice.
I know that man’s voice.
Typically, I’m not a huge planner. While I do have a calendar for any meetings or appointments, I’m usually a go-with-the-flow type of gal. However, there are things I like to mentally prepare for: auditions, going to a concert and knowing I won’t be home until 1 a.m., and possible encounters with people I’ve told myself I would never see again.
My hands squeeze so hard into a fist that my nails dig into the center of my palms. This is probably the closest thing I’ve ever had to a panic attack. Maybe I’m actually having a fucking panic attack, I don’t know. What does a panic attack entail? Does it feel like not being able to breathe and wanting to shit your pants at the same time?
My eyes go to the window behind Mara, and I wonder how many people have survived an eighteen-story jump. I clutch my purse, ready to make a run for it, but it’s too late. The sound of footsteps is getting closer, and I hear the man’s voice more clearly. I can quite literally feel my ass sweating. I didn’t even know that was physically possible.
He’s getting closer and closer, and the door finally opens. I refuse to turn around, but I see Mara’s face light up at whoever is behind me.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” a deep voice says. A voice that you can feel throughout your veins. A voice that you never forget.
Maybe it’s the adrenaline; I couldn’t tell you, because everything that’s happening is a blur, but somehow, I manage to stand up and turn around.
For the first time in five years, I’m face-to-face—well, face-to-chest—with Adam Harper.
The realization dawns on him, except the blood isn’t rushing to his face the way it is to mine.
He looks older, but not old. There are a few more lines around his eyes, slight facial hair that he would never have let grow before, and, although Adam Harper was always one to keep in shape, he looks somehow more fit, bigger, than I remember. He’s wearing an army green denim shirt and black pants with leather boots. He looks handsome. I guess he always was. His sleeves are rolled up a little and I notice a watch. He never used to wear watches.
“Hey,” Adam says.
My lips slightly part. Hey? Hey?! He is not supposed to be here.
“Hi,” I say, although it comes out a little shakier than I’d like.
I force myself to look into his eyes. The same hazel eyes I used to look at every day, eyes that apparently still make me go weak in the knees, for reasons that are unclear right now. Memories tower over me like a huge wave about to cascade.
I remember the way his fingers would run through my hair.
I remember how satisfying it felt to earn one of his laughs.
I remember the last time I saw him and our final words to each other.
“How are you?” he asks, keeping his focus on me.
I’m not imagining it: Adam looks calm and composed, like he’s asking his fucking barber what’s been going on since his last haircut. Instead of panic, I now feel slight anger. I’m angry that he’s… okay.
“Good.” I smile, only slightly concerned that my heart rate is not slowing down.
It’s not supposed to be like this. This is not how we should be reuniting.
“All right, let’s all take a seat.” Mara’s voice snaps me back to reality and Adam puts his arm out, gesturing for me to sit first.
Okay, well, I guess we’re doing this.
Mara begins talking but it’s hard for me to process what she’s saying, because Adam and I are sitting next to each other. We are really in the same room right now. I’m going to be sick.
At some point she passes him the same iPad that was in my hands a few minutes ago and he starts filling out the form. She then begins to scan our IDs and says something trivial about the weather. I have no idea. We are less than four feet away from each other and, yeah, I’m definitely going to be sick. The worst part is that Adam looks fine. Tall, strong, handsome, and fine with this situation.
He hands her back the iPad and looks at me. The moment we make eye contact my eyes dart back to Mara, like he’s the male counterpart of Medusa. Too late— I already feel like stone that’s crumbled.
“Mr. Harper, I have here on file that you also resided at 74 Perry for six years?”
“Correct.” Adam keeps his focus on Mara.
Six years. Six years we lived together. But Adam wasn’t just my roommate—you can’t reduce someone you shared a life with to a label like roommate. A roommate is someone who is strictly a percentage of the rent, a ship passing in the night that happens to dock at the same port as you. A roommate doesn’t know your deepest, darkest secrets, or your most intimate hopes and dreams. They certainly don’t know what spot on your collarbone makes you moan in pleasure.
There’s an urge in me to pull Adam’s arm and say hey, let’s get out of here… separately, but that would require talking to him.
“Great.” Mara continues to focus on her screen. What’s the point of those gigantic glasses if she can’t see that someone is about to throw up all over herself? “Okay, so thank you both for taking the time to come here in person.” Mara pulls out a brown folder containing a pile of paperwork.
I shift uncomfortably, because the last thing I need right now is to be looking at any form of documentation. I can barely concentrate. Had I known he would be here, I wouldn’t have flown across the country. I would’ve demanded this be a Zoom call with cameras off.
“As I was saying, I’ve been a certified public accountant for over twenty years and for fifteen of those years, I’ve worked with Stanley Hill.”
I sit up straighter. Stanley Hill is a name that I haven’t heard since I left New York. My mind travels to the few but lovely memories I have from when he was our landlord. The stories he would tell us of growing up in Brooklyn, how he’d always let it slide if we were a week or two late on rent, the comforting feeling I had knowing we could go to him if a pipe was leaky or the furnace needed repair.
“How is Stanley?” Adam asks.
Mara’s smile becomes somber. “It saddens me to let you know that Mr. Hill passed away earlier this month.”
“What?” My face falls, and I instinctively look at Adam. His arms are crossed with a fist to his mouth, telling me he had no idea either. My words come out gentle and slow. “M-May I ask how?”
“Alzheimer’s,” Mara says, and my throat becomes tight. I know he didn’t have a family or kids and that he must have battled his illness alone. “At Mr. Hill’s request, there was no funeral. But I want you both to know he didn’t suffer long and had a peaceful passing. I saw him a week before… and he was happy.”
Despite my regrets about not having stayed in touch and the utter shock of this news, those details are a silver lining.
“Thank goodness,” Adam says softly.
“That being said, as the granted executor of Mr. Hill’s assets…” Mara tentatively guides our conversation to a pivot. “There are some matters that need to be attended to regarding 74 Perry Street.”
Between Adam’s showing up and the news of Stanley’s passing, I’d almost forgotten that there was a reason we were summoned here. The past five minutes have already been far too much to process and I don’t think I can handle anything else.
Adam shifts and takes a breath in. “Yes, of course.”
Mara licks her index finger and flips to a specific page. She adjusts her glasses and scans what’s in front of her. Pulling out a single sheet, she places it on her marble desk. “Based on the estate plan”—Mara spins the paper in our direction, then pushes it forward—”74 Perry Street is now under the ownership of Adam Harper and June Wood.”
Excerpted from It’s Different This Time by Joss Richard. Copyright © 2025 by Joss Richard. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
