Sign up with your TrialGuard email address. We read the welcome email and the fine print, work out exactly when the first charge lands, and cancel two days before it — automatically, unless you tell us to keep it.
Now enrolling a 200-person concierge beta. Free while we prove it. No card required — obviously.
Every "free" trial is a scheduled charge with the date buried in the terms. The business model counts on you forgetting. Here is the standard playbook:
No reminder email, no warning push. The first sign the trial ended is the charge on your statement.
"Cancel by the 30th" quietly means 11:59 PM Pacific — or the company's home timezone, not yours. Cancel "on time" and still get billed.
Signing up took one click. Cancelling takes a phone call, during business hours, with a retention script on the other end.
Six screens of "Are you sure?", a discount detour, and a cancel button styled to look disabled. Built to wear you down.
Your email gets passed to "partners." The trial ends; the spam doesn't. Your real inbox pays for a service you used once.
No browser plugin, no new habits, nothing to install. The inbox is the integration — the welcome email every service already sends is all TrialGuard needs to start the clock.
Every trial gets your TrialGuard alias instead of your real email. If that service ever sells its list, it sold a dead end — your real inbox never hears about it.
The AI parses the welcome email and the terms: trial length, the exact first-charge date and amount, how cancellation works, and the gotchas. Then it sets the cancellation clock two days early — beating the timezone games and the "by 11:59 PM" fine print.
Before the deadline, the trial is cancelled and you get the confirmation. Want to keep the service? One tap on Keep and we stand down. And if a service plays games with its cancel flow, the virtual card on file gets paused — the charge physically can't land.
Use it anywhere you'd normally type your real email at signup. Same address every time — the clock starts the moment the welcome email lands.
This is the exact math TrialGuard runs on every signup. Pick a trial you're in right now — most people are surprised how close the charge already is, and how much earlier the safe cancel date is than the deadline printed in the terms.
The two-day buffer isn't caution for its own sake. It absorbs timezone cutoffs, "processing" delays, and cancel flows that mysteriously fail on the last day.
In the real product you never see this screen — the dates come out of the welcome email automatically. This is just the math, out in the open.
TrialGuard started with a $7 PDF report from a public-records site — a one-time download that quietly came with a subscription attached. I caught it before the monthly charge landed. Most people find out from their bank statement, weeks later, $29.95 at a time.
Reminder apps don't fix this; by the time a charge posts, the money's already gone. TrialGuard is prevention, not cleanup: the cancellation happens before the deadline, every time, whether you remember or not.
Real catches from the concierge beta. Amounts only, no merchant names.
A transcription subscription, $29.99 a month, that kept billing after its owner thought it was cancelled. Cancelled for real — no next charge, access through the end of the paid period.
A $35 charge pending on a public-records account that had already been closed, with confirmation of no further charges. Dispute in progress — cancelled means cancelled.
Recover — our second service, now in beta.
Preventing the charge is the core job. But sometimes one lands anyway — a cancellation that didn't stick, a subscription that billed after it was closed. That's the second service: Recover.
TrialGuard builds the case from the file we already kept: the terms we read at signup, the cancellation proof, the dates, the amounts. Then we work the ladder: merchant request first, bank dispute second, regulator complaint third. Deadlines tracked — bank dispute windows run roughly 60–120 days, and missing one loses the case.
Every filing goes out with your approval. Refunds go back to your original card only — we never hold your money. And we triage honestly: strong cases and weak cases get called what they are. No promises, no guarantees — just the full hunt.
Recover is in beta with our first members while we prove it. Tier pricing comes later, once we've got wins to price from.
We charge a subscription to end subscriptions — we know how that sounds. The difference: ours is the one you chose, it says its price up front, and cancelling it takes one click. We deliberately don't take a percentage of what we save you; a fee that grows when you almost-forget is a conflict of interest wearing a business model.
For the occasional trial
Trials cancel themselves
One avoided $29.95 charge pays for six months of Guard. During the concierge beta, Guard is free for the first 200 members — we're running every cancellation by hand, on the same checklist the software will use, before we automate a single one.
The welcome email and the terms of service contain everything: trial length, first charge date and amount, and how cancellation works. The AI extracts those fields, cross-checks them, and sets the cancellation for two days before the first charge. If anything's ambiguous, a human reviews it during the beta — a wrong date is the one error we can't afford.
Tap Keep on the trial's case file any time before the cancellation fires, and we stand down completely. The default is cancel, because forgetting defaults you into paying — keeping should be the deliberate choice, not the accident.
A person, following the same checklist the software will run later. The first 200 members are a concierge beta on purpose: we'd rather prove the cancellation flows by hand — including the ugly phone-only ones — than automate something unproven and miss your deadline.
That's what the virtual card is for. On Guard, each trial can sit on its own virtual card number. If a service buries the exit or "loses" your cancellation, the card gets paused before the charge date — there's nothing for the charge to land on, and the paper trail is yours.
It never gets handed out. Trials live on your TrialGuard alias; anything sent there — receipts, reminders, and yes, spam if a list gets sold — lands in the alias inbox, where it's useful evidence and zero nuisance.
Yes. Anything else would be a bit rich, coming from us.
Tell us you're in, and here's exactly what happens: you get your TrialGuard address, you use it the next time a "free" trial asks for your email, and we track the deadline and handle the cancellation ourselves — while you watch it work. If it saves you even once, you'll know what it's worth.