My Wife's Baby
by RM Johnson

Does the love for a wife and the jealousy for an infant, warrant murder?


After ten years of bad dates and worse relationships, Stan is in heaven for he has finally found his soul mate, Erica—a beautiful, caring woman who shares all his beliefs, to include not wanting children. They discussed this over bottles of red wine the night they met and promised, if ever they became a couple, they would remain childless and forever the other’s priority.

One year after being married, Erica tells Stan she’s pregnant: news she’s very happy about. Stan considers talking Erica out of it, but that would mean aborting her child, something he knows Erica would never do.

Two months into the pregnancy, Stan notices changes: times he and Erica enjoyed as a fun-loving childless couple are no longer; Erica’s attention is occupied with all things related to the forthcoming baby, and Stan has gone without sex for months.

The child arrives and things get even worse; Stan feels like an outsider: a stranger living among his wife and her son. Erica gives all her time, attention and love to the infant, leaving none for her husband. Stan becomes envious; he looks at the newborn as a threat, tells himself something must be done—but what? He fights his jealous thoughts, knowing horrible things would happen if he were ever to act on them. But one night while drunk, Stan attempts to make love to his wife but is once again rejected. His pride hurt and feeling disowned, Stan stumbles into the baby’s room with intentions of eliminating his problem once and for all, knowing there can only be one man in Erica’s life. That is the promise his wife had made him on the night they met, and it is the promise he intends to make her keep.    

5.0 out of 5 stars written by Paula Wheeler

This book will have you on the edge of your seat like all of his books.  RM Johnson you did it again. This book make you reflect on relationships, marriages and most of all promises that was made but never kept.

My Wife's Baby: I Am Not A Murderer by RM Johnson
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Excerpt—My Wife’s Baby: I Am Not A Murderer

Twenty stories up, the harsh, cold wind swept across my face, tested my grip, tried to rip them from my hands. Sweat spilled from my brow in large round beads, plopped into the eyes of my wife who dangled from one of my arms. From the other, my thirteen year old daughter clung, crying, begging, “Daddy, daddy! Please don’t let go!”
I can’t remember how we found ourselves here—me hanging, waist deep out the window of our high-rise condo, the two people I loved most in the world, swinging from my ever loosening grasp. My palms were coated with hot sweat, the tendons in my shoulders felt as though they were on fire, would be ripped from their sockets if I didn’t free myself of the weight pulling on them.
Squinting against the pain, so far below us, like tiny diligent ants, I saw the men file from the fire engine—red lights flashing on its roof, attempting to extend some giant ladder, rig a safety net, proposing to catch my wife and child as they plummeted toward the hard concrete. The thought comforted me only momentarily, because I knew those men could not make it happen, that ladder would never reach, the net would never open, at least not in time; a decision had to be made now.

I loved my daughter from the day she was born, from the moment her mother smiled in my face, pressed her warm cheek to mine, whispered in my ear that we were pregnant. I never thought I was the father she deserved, that she was worthy of, but she triumphed in spite of me, always telling me I was her hero, snuggling up to me nights when we watched TV, as though I were her favorite blanket. She made me the best man I could be, forced me to never stop trying to be better. Now hanging from my arm, my little girl glanced down, screamed then turned back to me, wind whipping her hair into her face. I saw the certainty in her eyes; she knew she’d die. I cursed God for putting me here, for making me chose.
“Stan…” my wife moaned, her hands wrapped tight around my wrist, her nails drawing blood from my skin; I saw the red lines crawling down, spiraling around her forearms, but her eyes were calm, she was content, ready to face what she knew was inevitable. “…I’ll be fine. Just let me go.”
My daughter heard her mother, cried out, begged her mom to stop talking like that.

“Dad, you can’t!  You have to pull us back up!” My child said. But there was no way that was going to happen, and her mother had to have known the decision I was going to make.
It had taken me a lifetime to find my wife, and when I did, I felt as though I was freed from a search filled with frustration and disappointment, loneliness and uncertainty. After meeting her, I no longer looked back at my mistakes, looked forward to the good I could do, the wonderful life we would have, the beautiful child we would make. We did that.

I kept telling myself we could do it again. The love my wife and I shared could produce another example of our undying devotion to one another, and in that child, we’d see glimpses of the one I had to sacrifice in order to hold onto to my soul mate, to that one in a million I could never recreate or replace. This line of reasoning occurred in a fraction of second, my wife staring up—and knowing me better than anyone alive—she surmised the decision I had reached. Her eyes flashed wide with horror and in her attempt to save our child, she released her hold on me. But I caught her wrist before she fell, held her tighter than I had before.
“No, Stan! No!” My wife cried, begged. “Let me go! Just let me go!”
I turned to my daughter blinking against the tears that practically blinded me. “I love you so much,” I told her.
“Dad?” My little girl said.
“I love you, baby,” I bawled, staring into her eyes, trying to imprint her face forever onto my brain. “I love you so much! God, please forgive me,” I said, shaking my daughter lose, and as punishment for not being strong enough to save them both, forced myself to watch her sink to her death, her eyes filled with terror, one hand stretched out to me, as though I wasn’t the coward that released her, but the hero she had always mistaken me for, that would save her.

(  Continued...  )

© 2014 All rights reserved. Book excerpt reprinted by permission of the author, RM Johnson.  Do not reproduce, copy or use without the author's written permission. This excerpt is used for promotional purposes only.

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RM Johnson is the author of twenty novels to include, The Harris Men, The Million Dollar Divorce, and the soon to be released, Hate the Air series. He holds an MFA in creative writing, is the recipient of the African American Arts Alliance Award among many others, and he resides in Atlanta, GA.    




Intimate Conversation with RM Johnson


RM Johnson is the author of twenty novels to include, The Harris Men, The Million Dollar Divorce, and the soon to be released, Hate the Air series. He holds an MFA in creative writing, is the recipient of the African American Arts Alliance Award among many others, and he resides in Atlanta, GA.    

BPM:  How did you get to be where you are in your life today? Who or what motivated you?
It took hard work, dedication and sacrifice. Although that sounds like a generic answer, it is true. As a novelist, you alone, do all the work. As another writer said, “There’s no one to throw the ball back to you.” You must be dedicated; writing a novel is not a sprint, but a marathon. It can take quite a long time to write a great one, equally as long to pen one that is horrible. Both are accomplishments, but you can’t finish either unless you stick to it.

Referring to success: it likely won’t come without sacrifice. I have an undergraduate degree in science. I left a lucrative career in the medical field to pursue my passion for writing. As any artist will attest, there are as many valleys—if not more—as peaks, but many of chose this: to sacrifice a normal life for that of an artist’s, not for the money, but because we feel this is why we’ve been put on this earth.

BPM: Who does your body of literary work speak to? Do you consider authors as role models?
My work speaks to Black folks: men and women, married and single, young and old, fatherless and motherless, divorced, deceived and cheated on, poor and affluent. My work speaks to readers who want relevant, heartfelt, relatable and suspenseful fiction. In regard to authors being role models, I’d say only if one wants to be a writer oneself, then authors might be seen as inspirational. Aside from that, I’d say no; authors should not be seen as role models, because many of us can be pretty screwy in the head.

BPM:  What inspired you to sit down and actually start writing this book? Why now?
Five years ago, a 44 year-old, good friend told me how disappointed he was with the turn his new marriage had taken. During their one-year marriage, he and his wife traveled, partied, drank and loved more than couples half their age. When they had their first child, he noticed a shift in the attention he was getting. It was a hard adjustment for him to make, and although he didn’t say he was, I detected a jealous tone in his voice. I felt there was an intriguing story there: man becomes envious of his newborn son, and does whatever he must to revert things back to the way he preferred them. I decided to write this book when I did, because, for the past several months, I’ve been working on a dystopian novel: Hate the Air, and I needed a break from the heavy lifting of that book, to something a little lighter, more familiar to me.

BPM:  What did you enjoy most about writing this book?
I loved writing this book. Like I said, I’ve been working on something far less familiar to me—something that required a lot of research. “My Wife’s Baby: I Am Not A Murderer” is right in my wheelhouse—my comfort zone. If you’ve ever read “The Million Dollar Divorce” or “Bishop”, you know that I often write about unsettling family situations and the toll taken every day, just to exist in them. This book is first person, from my main character, Stan’s POV, so the reader is right there in his head, experiencing his every thought as he grapples with his unwanted, jealous feelings toward his son.

BPM:  Where do your book ideas come from? Are your books plot-driven or character-driven?  Why?
The idea for the current novel, like I said, came from a friend. My novels are definitely character driven. I love the conflict, the havoc, the destruction caused by differing opinions: each character believing he or she is right, attempting to impress their beliefs upon the other. It creates the potential for great drama.

BPM:  Could you tell us something about your most recent work?  Available on Nook and Kindle?
“My Wife’s Baby” is available on Nook  and  Kindle and in paperback on The premise: Stan doesn’t want children and marries a woman who says she feels the same. They have a great year of marriage, childless and obligation-free, traveling and over indulging in each other, when Erica winds up pregnant. To Stan’s dismay, she decides to have the baby. After the baby arrives, she spends almost all her time with the infant, neglecting Stan, and forcing him to take the drastic and unthinkable measure of eliminating the issue he believes is stealing his wife from him.

BPM:  Give us some insight into your main characters or speakers. What makes each one so special?  
I like to put my main characters in positions where, the result of them not accomplishing their goal is equivalent to the worst fate imaginable. In other words: if they fail, they die—or they will feel as though they’d want to. So when I write a character that feels he or she must succeed at all costs, they let nothing stand in their way, making them desperate. Those, in my opinion, are the most interesting characters to read.

BPM:  Are there under-represented groups or ideas featured in your book?  If so, discuss them.
What’s notable in this book are the intimate, emotional, non-fantastical struggles that Black men contend with everyday. It’s not about a kingpin drug dealer, or a cheating minister, or a thug that sleeps with his team of prostitutes. “My Wife’s Baby: I Am Not A Murderer”, is just an extremely intense look inside the thoughts of a Black man when faced with the notion he might lose the woman he loves most in this world.

BPM:  How does your book relate to your present situation, spiritual practice or journey?
It really doesn’t. I don’t have an infant child. I’ve never experienced the jealousy, Stan, my main character, has. But men very close to me have. I’ve seen marriages fall apart because—with the addition of the baby—couples seemingly forget how to function as they had before: they forget what brought them together, what made them happy, and in some instances—not all—the mother puts the wellbeing of the baby so far ahead of the father that he feels he no longer has a place in the mother’s life.

BPM:   Did you learn anything personal from writing your book?
I think I’m learning more from the reader responses to the book than from the actual writing of it. This is a controversial piece of work: there is subject matter here that some people would rather not address, and issues that provoke people to think about how they relate to their most significant other and their infant. I think the female reader—if nothing else—will be forced to ask herself if she might’ve neglected her husband while caring for her newborn, or the male reader may question if he was understanding enough of the mother’s responsibilities, and was not needlessly envious of his own child during this period.

BPM:   Can you share some stories about people you met while researching this book?
I met a woman with two children, both over the age of 18. When I asked her what her situation was like soon after she had given birth, she told me that she spent most of her time with her newborn: some days she spent as many as fourteen hours alone with the child. This time would be spent away from her husband, because she was so engrossed in the care of the infant. What was most intriguing was that she was shocked at the idea that she had done something wrong. She did say that her husband was gone a lot during this period; she did not relate it to the possibility that she might have been shutting him out, just thought his job had suddenly become more demanding. She said, looking back, if she had considered the possibility that her husband might have been envious of the time and attention not given him, she might’ve made more of an attempt to him include him more.

BPM:   What were your goals and intentions in this book, and how well do you feel you achieved them?
The most major intention of this book was to shed light on the possibility that some men might find themselves jealous of their own children and enlighten mothers that this envy is real, and although they feel—as one mother told me—that men should be just as excited and wanting to spend every minute of the day with the new baby, that is not always the case. Not to say that fathers don’t love their children as much as mothers do, but when the baby arrives, we have not had the opportunity to bond with the infant. We have not carried the baby for nine months, so we might need more time to build a relationship with the infant.

Do I feel I achieved my goal in the writing of this novel? I’m not certain. I think the novel will incite some serious discussion and maybe a few arguments, but I also believe, those of you who read it, will find it intriguing, disturbing, suspenseful and very enjoyable—which is always my ultimate goal.  

BPM:   What projects are you working on at the present?
My next work, “Hate The Air” is about all human beings over the age of twenty years old dying, due to something in the air. Left alive are young adults to fend and fight for themselves, to run the country and to solve the problems of ensuring humanity does not die. It was inspired by the often self indulgent and over confident opinions of kids today believing they could do a much better job running the world than their elders. It will be an ongoing series, but I haven’t determined just how many books there will be.  

BPM:   How can readers discover more about you and your work? Share all of your social media links.
My readers can always contact me directly via email:,  Twitter: @Marcusarts and on Facebook at:

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