Princess of Midnight (Fairytales of Folkshore, #6)

by Lucy Tempest

I started at his instant answer, then frowned at him. “You believe me?” He tilted his chin downwards to give me a comically judgmental look. “Cinders, you’re a tree-person, your stepmother is a slave-trafficking troll, and we came looking for you in a giant pumpkin. You could say you sneeze glitter, and I’d believe you.”

“No!” I blurted out, making him laugh, a sound that gave life to a dozen fuzzy moths in my gut, and the best thing I’d ever heard.

An alternative to “butterflies in my stomach.”