Your business card, reinvented as a link.

Building your card costs nothing: sign up, design it, and look at it as long as you like. Publishing it is $72 a year — that is the address, the QR code that never changes, the hosting behind a link somebody printed, and a physical NFC card posted to you. One charge a year, on a date you can see before you agree to it, cancellable in two clicks from the same screen you bought it on.

Your card stays published and your link keeps working. Somebody who scans a code off a business card should never meet a paywall where a phone number belongs, so the page goes on resolving; what locks is your dashboard, until you pay again. That holds for twelve months. After twelve months the account is deleted, and that is the one moment the address stops working — we email you three times before it happens. Even then the address is retired rather than handed to somebody else, so a code already printed can never lead to another person’s card.

It is a web page at your own address that holds everything a paper card holds — your name, title, company, phone, email and location — plus the things paper cannot: a tappable call button, live links, and a one-tap save straight into the other person’s contacts. You share it with a link or a QR code instead of handing over a piece of card.

No. Your card is an ordinary web page. Anyone who can open a link can open it, on any phone, tablet or computer, with no app, no account and no sign-up. That applies to you too after you have published — you only log in when you want to change something.

Any time, as often as you like. Change your phone number, your job title, your photo or your whole design, and the page updates immediately for everyone. There is no re-issuing and no re-sending: the people who already have your link simply see the new version next time they open it.

It does not, and that is deliberate. Your QR code encodes your address — tapcardlink.com/yourname — and never your contact details. So a code printed on a sign, a badge, a folder or a window keeps working after you change your number, your title or your company. It keeps working even if your subscription lapses: the card stays published and what locks is your dashboard, because a stranger scanning a code should never meet a paywall where a phone number belongs. Two things end it. Changing your username, which we warn you about clearly first. And leaving an account lapsed for twelve months, after which it is deleted — and even then the address is retired rather than handed to anybody else.

You can, and it is the one change we ask you to confirm before saving. Before you publish, change it as often as you like. Afterwards it is a real decision: every printed code, sticker, sign and email signature pointing at the old address stops leading to you, and the address you leave behind goes back into circulation for somebody else to claim — so the editor spells that out and waits for you to agree. This is the one reason to choose slowly at the start: pick the name you would still want on a card in five years, and you never have to think about this again.

Yes. The Save Contact button generates a real vCard file, the standard format both iPhone and Android contact apps import. It carries your full name, company, job title, phone, email, website, address and photo, and files you under your own name rather than as a link they will lose.

Your card is a single link, so anywhere a link goes, it goes: a text message, WhatsApp, your email signature, an Instagram or LinkedIn bio, an AirDrop, a printed code on the counter. The share button on your own card opens your phone’s normal share sheet.

We do not collect your visitors’ details at all, so there is nothing about them to export. TapCardLink has no lead-capture form and keeps no visitor profiles, no raw IP addresses and nothing that identifies who opened your card — a card is a page you hand someone, not a way to harvest them. What you get instead are counts: views, saves, and taps on each link, with seven-day, thirty-day and all-time totals in your dashboard. Those counts are read on screen; there is no download button for them yet. Your own contact details are yours throughout, and the card publishes them as a standard vCard that any phone can already import.

If we ever discontinue the service we give at least ninety days’ notice by email, so you have three months to move before anything stops resolving — that is written into our terms, not left to goodwill. It is also worth knowing what you are not locked into: your card publishes a standard vCard, the same format every phone has imported for twenty years, so the contact details themselves are never trapped here. What a shutdown would cost you is the address and the printed codes pointing at it, which is true of any web address anybody rents. We would rather say that plainly than promise a company will exist forever.